Chapter 20
“Mr. Lloyd, you’re here,” The overweight man sprawled on the couch barely looked up, one brow lifting.
It took Finley a second to recognize him–Danny Wright.
“Mr. Wright,” Finley said, tight–lipped. His gaze flicked to Renee, unease curling in his gut. Since when did she let men handle her like this?
“You’re late,” Wright said, nodding at the table. “Three drinks as penalty.”
Finley frowned. He wasn’t late. He was actually early.
“What’s the holdup? You came to ask for a favor, right? If you can’t even drink, how do you expect to prove your sincerity?”
Across the room, another man lounged with a woman draped over him. Finley recognized her-an actress from Renee’s era. Now, she looked just as ruined, reduced to arm candy.
Something in him snapped. He grabbed Renee’s arm. “What are you doing? We’re leaving.”
“Let go of me!” Renee yanked her arm free. “Do you even know why you’re here? You’re begging Mr. Wright for business. Or are you still too dense to get it?”
Her glare cut through him. “I went to your company, Finley. Embezzlement, site accidents, tanked partnerships–it’s all crumbling. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”
Of course, he was. Lloyd Corp was his father’s legacy. He wasn’t about to let it go under.
“Mr. Wright,” Finley said, forcing himself to stay composed, “what do you need to keep working with us?”
Wright smirked. “Not up to me. It’s up to Miss Slutsky.”
Then, with a sleazy grin, he pressed a kiss to Renee’s cheek. She didn’t flinch. Worse–she giggled. “Oh, Mr. Wright, you’re too kind.”
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Finley’s hands clenched. “Renee…”
She leaned back, ice–cold. “Mr. Lloyd, call me Miss Slutsky. We’re not close anymore.”
She crossed her legs and smirked. “You want a deal? Drink both bottles of whiskey.”
Finley’s eyes flicked to the bottles. Downing one could put a man in the hospital. Both?
Suicide.
“What’s wrong?” Renee taunted. “Scared? Thought your dad’s company meant everything to you. He handed it to you, and in just a few years, you’re running it into the ground?”
“You really want me to do this?”
In just days, Renee had turned into someone he barely recognized.
“Drink,” she said. “Or there’s no deal.”
Her stare drilled into him, pure venom.
And just like that, he knew—this was revenge.
But for the company, he had no choice.
“Fine. I’ll drink.”
He grabbed the first bottle and started chugging.
Halfway through, his legs wobbled. He’d never been good with alcohol. Funny. The only times he ever drank were for Renee. And now? Still for her.
“Keep going, Mr. Lloyd,” Wright drawled, cigar smoke curling around him. “Do you want this deal or not?”
Gritting his teeth, Finley forced down the last drop. His throat burned, stomach twisted, and the room blurred at the edges. The second bottle loomed in front of him, but his body refused.
“Mr. Wright, Mr. Lopez,” he muttered, swaying, “I… I can’t drink anymore. Please. I’ve
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shown my sincerity. Let’s finalize the deal.”
Wright chuckled. “Fine. Just make Miss Slutsky happy, and we’ll consider it.”
Finley turned to Renee, his vision swimming.
She looked at him like he was nothing. “Kneel.”
“What?” Finley stared at her in disbelief. “Renee… What are you saying?”
“I said, kneel,” she sneered. “Or did you think I’d let you off easy?”
His jaw tightened. Then, slowly, he dropped to his knees.
Not enough.
She lifted her hand and slapped him.
Hard.
a
“Finley Lloyd, everything happening to you right now? You deserve it. You stopped loving me? Fine. Now you’ll see what that costs.”
Another slap.
And another.
Her fury lashed out, years of resentment pouring into every hit.
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