Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“I want you to install miniature hot water spouts on the side of every alley-facing building that I own,” I said. “And then, the moment someone starts pissing on my property, I want the spouts to blast them so hard that they nearly lose a limb and never think about disrespecting me again.”
“There’s no legal way for me to do that, sir.”
“There is if you install cameras,” I said. “I can have security monitor things 24/7, and they can press the buttons to soak the offenders.”
“Sir…” He clasped his hands together and took a deep breath. “On top of your request being one-hundred-percent illegal, it would cost you tens of millions of dollars per building.”
“Have I ever been worried about a price tag?”
“Not to mention the water main issues this would cause in the winter months,” he said, “it’s. just. not. possible.”
“Okay, fine.” I shrugged. “Let’s go with the sudden-death bear traps that swoop down the moment someone unzips their pants.”
He gave me a blank stare.
“What’s illegal about that?”
“That’s it,” he said, pushing up from his chair. “I’m going to go discuss this with Mr. Anthony now, sir.”
“There’s no need to involve him in anything,” I said. “Sit back down and suggest some goddamn alternatives instead of giving up.”
He left my office without another word, forcing me to consider calling in another engineer.
Since Chloe had left behind the “Anti-Dante Hudson” binder in my car, I’d been spiraling over all their strategies to block me. On the one hand, I was somewhat impressed by how organized and dedicated they were to hating me and my properties. On the other, I was livid that they had the audacity to go against me.
There has to be a decent way to make these people pay…
I flipped to the page titled “100 Other Things Mr. Hudson Could Do with His Money,” and shut it.
I spent my money exactly how I wanted, and that would never change.
Picking up my coffee, I walked over to my windows to watch the sun fall over the city.
In the distance, the lone rooftop light on The Holden flickered on, and my chest ached at the memory of spending a few nights sleeping near its glow.
I made a mental note to send the mayor another suck-up fruit basket, and then an image of Chloe’s tempting mouth crossed my mind.
Unable to resist thinking about her, I pulled out my phone.
How are your plans for me going?
Chloe Sterling
I’m doing them well, Mr. Hudson.
On a scale of 1–10?
2
How the hell is that “very well”?
It was autocorrect.
I meant “I’m in Hell.”
You should be out of it by tomorrow evening.
And if I’m not?
I would hate for you to fuck around and find out…
THE AGENT
CHLOE
Two a.m.
There was no point in attempting to get a single wink of sleep with an impossible deadline hanging over my head.
I’d asked my new team to pull every headline, magazine article, and mainstream press piece that had been printed about Mr. Hudson over the past two years, and we were still drowning in hopelessness.
When I did this same task for my hometown mayor, the negatives were washed out by his endless good deeds, and I was able to find a passage to success from there.
For Dante Hudson? The river was flooded with miles of tales about his ruthlessness, and the only positives were scraps of sarcasm.
Groaning, I pasted “Billionaire Dante Hudson Blocks View of Pier with New Yacht” to the negative wall and headed to the break room.
Above the coffee machine hung a picture of Mr. Hudson shaking hands with another executive on a stage.
In small print, the words read: “Soulless Billionaire Shuts Down Another Apartment to Build a Complex for the Mega-Rich.”
I should just quit this job now…
As I stirred a shot of espresso into my cup, my new phone rang.
“This is Chloe Sterling speaking,” I answered. “If this is about the headlines, don’t tell me.”
“I don’t appreciate all the lies that The New York Post published about me at midnight.” Mr. Hudson’s deep voice caught me off guard. “This is unacceptable.”
“Okay…” I glanced at my screen, seeing a different number for him. “What does the new article say?”
“It’s your job to read these things before I do,” he said. “I could’ve sworn that’s why I hired you.”
LESS THAN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS AGO…
I held back a scream and sucked in a long breath instead.
He’s paying you over a million dollars, Chloe.
“Please give me a moment, Mr. Hudson,” I said, trying to sound polite.
I typed in the website, and the moment it loaded, I sent it to the printer for the negative pile.
The Biggest Beast in Manhattan Is Trying to Strangle Another Beauty.
“Hello? Miss Sterling?” he asked. “Am I talking to myself?”
“No, I’m reading…” I quickly skimmed, trying to find the “lies” he was talking about.
“Overbearingly wealthy ass who doesn’t need to purchase any more real estate.”