Prentice grinned. “Elle likes it when I talk dirty.” He looked down at her and asked softly, “Don’t you, baby?”
Elle’s eyes rounded in horror then they grew warm and she looked like she was trying hard not to laugh.
Yes, he hadn’t lost her. Standing at his side was his Elle.
Prentice nearly laughed.
Again, he did not.
“Isabella –” Carver started but Elle’s humor faded and her eyes turned to her father.
“I thought we’d said what we had to say.”
“We did but that was before you decided again to throw away your life on this man,” Carver replied.
“Finally, something I’d like to talk about,” Prentice announced and he felt Elle’s body twitch at his side while Carver’s angry eyes slid to him. “Twenty years ago, for no reason other than to be an ass**le, you took away the woman I loved. I’ll expect an apology before you leave.”
“I… you –” Carver spluttered.
“And one for Elle too,” Prentice went on.
“I can’t…” Carver started then finished on a hiss, “You must be joking.”
“Don’t feel like apologizing?” Prentice asked then concluded, “That’s fine, then. You can just leave.”
“Isabella –” Carver started yet again but it was Elle who cut him off.
“Prentice asked you to leave, Dad.”
“You can’t tell me –” Carver began.
Prentice looked down at Elle and interrupted him by asking her, “Does he have keys?”
“I changed the locks after our last conversation and asked security to change the code for the front door,” she replied.
Prentice smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Excellent.”
Carver butted into their discussion, “Cameron, I’ll remind you about my offer. I’m willing to negotiate.”
Prentice looked to the man. “You’re saying you’re willing to pay me more than twelve million dollars to get out of Elle’s life?”
He knew Elle had heard that part because she showed no reaction to his words.
“Yes,” Carver bit out.
“How much more?” Prentice asked, Elle went tight at his side and he gave her shoulder another squeeze.
“Name it,” Carver snapped.
“All right, Carver, since this doesn’t seem to be sinking in, I’ll explain it to you. I love your daughter. I’ve loved her for decades. My children love her. We’re happy, finally, f**king happy. You don’t have enough money to make me walk away from that. There isn’t enough money to make me walk away from that.”
“You’re only saying that because Elle has more than four times that amount in her trust,” Carver shot back.
At his words, it was Prentice’s body that went tight.
Then he looked down at Elle and asked, his voice sounding stunned because he f**king well was. “You have over forty-eight million dollars?”
She licked her lips, the nerves acute and visible and she nodded. “At my last meeting with my accountants, it was around fifty-three.”
Prentice couldn’t wrap his mind around fifty-three million dollars.
Carver cut into this endeavor and declared, “I’ll give you fifty-four.”
Elle sucked in breath.
Prentice’s surprised eyes sliced to the man and he muttered the first thing that came to his mind.
“You’re mad.”
“Fifty-four million dollars, you’ll have it tomorrow. No strings,” Carver confirmed. “We’ll find a way around red tape, taxes, everything. You’ll have it mid-morning. Tomorrow afternoon, you walk away.”
“Mad,” Prentice repeated.
“I’m not mad, I’m deadly serious,” Carver returned.
“You’re mad,” Prentice stated again.
“I have it and Isabella knows it,” Carver’s eyes moved to his daughter. “Don’t you?” he demanded and, when she didn’t answer, he leaned forward. “Look at her, Cameron. She knows it and she knows you’re going to take it.”
“Definitely mad,” Prentice muttered yet again.
“Stop saying that!” Carver snapped.
“Carver, if you think I’m going to take that money, you are definitely mad.”
Elle’s body jolted violently at his side but Prentice ignored it and ignored Carver’s mouth dropping open. He didn’t, however, ignore just how f**king satisfied witnessing the bastard’s angry astonishment made him feel.
“Now, I’ll say it one last time before we call the police. It’s late. We’ve got less than a week to pack Elle’s things before we go home. We need to get back to bed. Please leave.”
Carver’s eyes shot daggers at him. Prentice simply returned his furious stare.
Carver broke contact and his gaze took in his daughter, top-to-toe, before he returned it to Prentice.
“You’ll regret it,” Carver warned in a low voice.
“That’s doubtful,” Prentice returned.
“I regretted it, marrying her mother,” Carver went on, Elle gasped and Prentice pulled her more tightly against his side.
“The feeling, Carver, was obviously, and sadly, mutual,” Prentice replied softly and then, his voice firm, his intent unmistakable, he finished, “Now, we’re done.”
The bastard gave them both a scathing look before he stalked, back ramrod straight, out of the room.
Prentice followed him and locked the door behind him.
When he turned, Elle was standing in the foyer.
“You just turned down fifty-four million dollars,” she whispered, her eyes wide and when she finished speaking her lips stayed parted.
“Aye,” Prentice agreed, moved forward the two steps that separated them, kissed her forehead then walked around her to the living room.
He switched out the light and when he turned to the door, Elle was standing in its frame.
“You should know,” she said quietly, “I can’t get to that trust unless it’s to make an investment that’s agreed by a small board made up of executives at my mother’s family’s bank or if it’s an emergency. I live off the interest.”
He walked to her, sliding an arm around her waist and leading her into the foyer so he could switch off the light.
“When you sell this apartment, the money will go back into the trust?” Prentice asked.
“Yes.”
“And if you don’t use the interest, it reverts to the trust?” Prentice went on, having turned off the light, he was guiding her through the boxes.