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162

Mr. Templeton demanded that everyone sit down and get it over with.

“I have better things to do with my time than this,” he grumbled.

“What, better than blackmail and destroying people’s lives? Come on, Dad, this is the perfect Tuesday night for you,” Connor joked as he pulled back my chair and pushed it in for me. Then he sat down beside me with Johnny on his left. Javier was on my right, his hands folded in his lap, looking suitably grim behind his sunglasses.

Apparently it was working, because occasionally Vincent would give him a nervous glance.

Vincent sat opposite Javier, Miranda sat across from me (Oh joy), Mr. Templeton was across from Connor, and Mrs. Templeton sat beside him, across from Johnny. The four bodyguards stood in the background, menacing shapes against the glass window and the Las Vegas skyline.

“We wouldn’t have to resort to unpleasant measures if you weren’t such a beastly son,” Mrs. Templeton said haughtily.

“I learned from the best, Mother.”

“Enough,” Mr. Templ
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