I itched with the need to vault across the desk and wrap my hands around the bastard’s neck just so I could watch the life drain from his miserable eyes.

It would be fucking glorious.

And… final.

Yeah, that wouldn’t do.

I didn’t want Trent Stevens to die a quick death. Hell, I didn’t want him to die at all. Or maybe not for a while.

He needed to suffer first.

After I got exactly what I wanted from him.

“So, you want to merge your casinos with my beautiful hotels?” Trent Stevens—owner of Summer Meadows Hotels & Spas—rubbed his hands together gleefully. “We’d be partners then?”

He was so far off it wasn’t even funny, or maybe it was since I was doing such a bang-up job of hiding my true intentions. Not that it was easy. I’d been aching to get this man alone for years.

Keeping my features even, I smoothed a hand down my navy-blue tie. “Of course.” The words came out calm and measured. It was in stark contrast to the furious way in which my blood was rushing through my veins.

Across from me, the silver-haired man bellowed out a loud laugh that reverberated through the sparsely decorated space. My lips didn’t even twitch.

“I like you, de la Fuente.” Trent folded his thick arms on his desk and leaned forward.

I gritted my teeth. The only time it was acceptable for anyone to address me by my last name was when Mr. was used in front of it.

“And seeing as you’re the one who sought me out, I think a little bargaining might be in order, yes?”

The muscle in my jaw ticked faster. “Bargaining?”

“I tell you what, de la Fuente.” Trent stood and walked over to the bar at the far side of the office. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and held it up in question.

I declined with a sharp shake of my head, and he shrugged, pouring himself two fingers’ worth of the amber liquid.

After taking a long swallow from his tumbler, he went back to his desk. “Why not entertain ourselves with a merger of a different kind?”

What the hell was he on about? Luckily, the bastard liked the sound of his own damn voice so much, I didn’t have to ask.

“You see,” he drawled after another swig from his glass. “If we become… partners, our interests would align, no? Which means my bad publicity would, in a sense, become your bad publicity.”

“Sure.”

He nodded, then picked up a frame from his desk and studied it for a few moments before handing it to me. The instant my gaze landed on the person in the photograph, a sour taste filled my mouth.

I’d seen the blue-eyed, blonde bombshell before, or rather I’d read about her many exploits more times than I could count. Pretty sure if you looked up the phrase “self-centered little rich girl,” an image of her would pop up.

The sour taste on my tongue quickly turned bitter. There were few things in life that really got me worked up. But spoiled daddy’s girls who couldn’t be bothered to work for the things they wanted were definitely one of them.

Swallowing the disgust, I set the frame back on Trent’s desk and glared at him. Because why the hell was the man showing me a photo of his promiscuous daughter?

“My daughter, Natalie,” Trent said, as if I needed any clarification. “I’m sure you’ve heard or read about her once or twice, hmm?”

I simply nodded. The man didn’t need to know my exact thoughts on the matter.

“I want you to marry her.”

I stared and waited for the loud bellow of laughter to follow such an incredulous statement, but it never came.

Is he fucking serious?

“I don’t see what this has to do with the business at hand.” Even though I was fuming, my tone hadn’t changed at all. It was an art I’d perfected over the years. Once people get even a glimpse of your true feelings, they’ll drain every last drop until you have nothing more to give.

So I made a point of not giving them anything to begin with.

“I didn’t come here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” I’m here because you need to hurt like—

“It’s quite simple.” Trent sank into his leather chair and laced his fingers atop his rounded belly. “She needs some… guidance. Someone to tame her, if you will. Marry her and set her straight. If you can do that within six months, we can do whatever business you damn well please. Hell, I’ll even dance naked around a fire and sing ‘Kumbaya.’ If you’re not up for it, we might as well call it a day.”

Six months? Six fucking months?

I needed this business deal to go through. It was crucial to my plan. Hell, it was the damn cornerstone of it. I’d waited years for this and didn’t want to wait a second longer.

But I also didn’t want to marry Natalie fucking Stevens.

I was about to push to my feet and tell this asshole exactly what I thought of him when it hit me. This wasn’t a hiccup in my plan. This was even better than the plan itself. He was offering me his daughter on a silver platter.

His daughter.

Something that belonged to him. Something I could ruin in the same way I wanted to ruin him. So what if the woman disgusted me about as much as her miserable father did?

No one ever said vengeance was easy.

My gaze locked on to his, and I slowly rose to my feet. Smoothing a hand down my tie, I buttoned my jacket. Trent’s eyes never left mine, and even though he tried hard to hide it, he still reeked of desperation.

Why was he so desperate for me to marry his daughter? I wasn’t stupid enough to believe the reasons he gave me earlier. There was more to this than he was telling me.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter because somewhere in the not-so-distant future, Trent Stevens and his daughter would be nothing more than ash at my feet.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I gritted my teeth and forced the words from my tongue.

“Very well. I’ll marry your daughter.”