Semua Bab The Stripping Heiress : Bab 1 - Bab 7

{Hailey Pov}“All you do is shake your ass in a club like a damn whore,” Richard growls behind his beer can.“It’s a club, not a church,” I shot back at him, swiping my lips gloss across my mouth in the cracked hallway mirror. “And trust me, the crowd prefers me to you.” I hear him storm closer, I smell the whiskey. “You think shaking your ass makes you feel better than me.” I finally looked at him. Gut hanging over stained jeans face red from rage or alcohol, or both.“No Richard, I know I’m better than you, all you do is drink to stupor, You rot I do think of how my momma was able to be with a low freak ass man like you, I’d rather strip until I’m seventy, than end up with men like you, eww.” He tosses the beer can. It slams against the wall. I don’t flinch. “You ungrateful little bitch.”“I’m not yours to be grateful to.” I step past him and grab my purse. “You married my mom with your fists and lies and drove her to her early grave. You don’t get a thank you for that.”“You're

{Hailey Pov}I have never flown before. Looking down from ten thousand feet, I could imagine myself farther than Paris, the Maldives, and the United Kingdom. Places that used to live in my daydreams. Places I’d escape to, somedayBut now…Beside me, Kiara was in heaven, sipping on a complimentary cocktail. “Picture time,” she chirped.Across the aisle, a lady shot Kiara a disapproving look. I wasn’t sure whether the target of her disapproval was Kiara's wide curls, the mini dress she wore, or the unapologetic selfie she was attempting to take, or the volume with which she’d just said the phrase warm nuts.Adopting my haughtiest look, I leaned toward Kiara and raised my warm nuts high. Kiara giggled, laid her head on my shoulder, and snapped the pic.She turned the phone to show me. “I’ll send it to you when we land.” The smile on her face wavered, just for a second.“Don’t put it online, okay? Craig doesn’t know where you are, does he?” I bit back the urge to remind her that she was a

{Hailey’s Pov}The Great Room was two-thirds the size of the foyer. An enormous stone fireplace stood at the front. There were gargoyles carved into the sides of the fireplace. Literal gargoyles.Kiara and I sat on the wingback chairs, three older gentlemen in suits stood, talking to Agnes and her husband.The lawyers, I realized. After another few minutes, Clara joined them, and I took stock of the other occupants of the room. A White couple, older, in their sixties at least. A Black man, forties, with a military bearing, who stood with his back to a wall and maintained a clear line of sight to both exits. Aaron with what was clearly another Lachlan brother by his side. This one was in his midtwenties. He needed a haircut and had paired his suit with cowboy boots that, like the motorcycle outside, had seen better days.Luca, I thought, recalling the name that Clara had provided. “Are you all right, Hailey?” Kiara asked beside me. “I’m fine,” I told Kiara. But I wasn’t. Even after t

{Hailey’s pov} “Enough.” Agne’s husband stepped in. “We will sort this out.” “I’m afraid there’s nothing to be sorted.” Mr. Smith reentered the strife. “You will find the will is indefensible, with significant disincentives to any who might be tempted to challenge it.” I translated that to mean, roughly, shut up and sit down. “Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Smith looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Aaron Lachlan, Marcus Lachlan, Luca Lachlan, and Julian Lachlan I leave…” “Everything,” Agnes muttered bitterly. Mr. Smith spoke over her. “Two hundred thousand dollars, payable on their birthday, until such time to be managed by Clara Smith trustee.” “What?” Clara sounded shocked. “I mean… what?” “The hell,” Aaron told her pleasantly. “The phrase you’re looking for, darlin’, is what the hell?” George hadn’t left everything to his grandsons. Given the scope of his fortune, he’d left them a pittance. “What is going on here?” Julian asked, each word deadly an