Wilhelmina's lips parted slightly, the words stuck in her throat.
"I'm such an idiot," Daniel whispered, shaking his head and turning around to leave the room. She followed him, without saying a word; she knew she should explain, but she simply couldn't find it in her to stop him. Daniel marched along the corridor, entering the dining room.
She noticed the candles lit in the middle of the table, and her heart broke at the thought of what Daniel must be feeling. But how could she tell him she had gone there for closure, when for a moment she'd lost herself in the arms of the man whom she had loved more than life itself? How could she tell him it had been nothing, if she wasn't sure of it either?
"Daniel, wait," she tried, but Daniel wasn't listening. He bent to collect his coat from the small couch in the corner and threw it over his forearm. "Can you please stop with the stubbornness and listen to what I have to say."
He walked by her and she grabbed him by the sleeve; he pulled away brusquely and she felt him slip away from her grip. He kept walking away, and she followed him. "Daniel, I told you to listen to me!"
They reached her entrance and he was almost at the door when she sprinted forward, blocking his way, placing her hands on his chest, trying to push him back. He tried to shove her away, placing a hand on her arm, but she just grabbed his shirt into her fist and he snorted, halting.
He looked down at her, the anger clear in his eyes. His jaw was clenched, and his chest was rising and falling in time with his heavy breathing. She took in his appearance for a second.
"Wow, I never noticed you look this good when you're angry," she exclaimed.
He shook his head and tried to shove her to the side again, but she propped herself on her feet, stopping him with her weight. He took a step back, and she almost fell on the floor. Regaining her balance, she straightened herself up, and licked her lips.
"I know you're mad," she said, putting her hands up. "But you're being a jerk."
"And you're being a bitch. I guess we're even."
He stepped to the side, hoping to reach the door, but she mirrored his movements, blocking his way again.
"You think calling me a bitch will hurt me? Please, I've been called that so many times I could officially change my name into Wilhelmina Bitch Slater," she joked, biting back a chuckle, because she knew he wouldn't be amused. And indeed, his face didn't show the smallest trace of hilarity, so she decided to go on. "I went to see Connor because I needed to close that chapter in my life, Daniel. Can't you see I did this for us, so that there would be no ghosts in between the two of us?"
"I thought you'd closed the chapter when you kindly told him you didn't need him anymore," he said, moving to put on his coat. Wilhelmina snatched the garment from his hands and threw it to the side. He opened his mouth in shock.
"You're not going anywhere," she said, folding her arms on her chest. "Not until you hear me out properly. I didn't leave Connor because I didn't need him, as you kindly pointed out in your endless stupidity. I left Connor because I couldn't be attached to anyone while I made the transition."
"Good, now you're going to be back at Mode and you'll be free to have him back," Daniel snapped. "I wish you all the best."
"God, you're so dense!" she exclaimed, her voice rising dangerously.
"Don't worry, I'm sure Connor will be much smarter than me," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He bent again and retrieved the coat Wilhelmina had carelessly thrown aside. He moved past her and just when he was at the door she grabbed him by the elbow and spun him around with all her strength, pushing him against the wall.
"Now listen to me, you son of a bitch," she hissed. He saw her lift her skirt a few inches, showing off her thigh, and pointing at a red scratch. "You see this?" she asked. "Those were your nails, this morning." She turned around, her back on him, and lowered the neck of her blouse, showing her left shoulder. He noticed the marks there, too. "This? You made it yesterday night." Turning around, facing him again, she moved her hair to the side and tilted her head, pointing at a spot on her neck. "And this hickey? Yes, still you, before I left for LA, the other day. It took a hell of a lot of concealer to hide it, but it's still there."
He stood motionless, watching her getting so worked up. He was everywhere, on her body.
"This, Daniel, all of this," she explained, "it's yours. You're imprinted on me. You know my body better than me. You know every single spot, you know exactly where to touch me and how to do it. You know when I'm angry, and you know when I'm sad. No one ever knew me as much as you do now. So can you please stop being so insecure? I'm yours, Daniel. I really am."
She took a step closer, placing her hands on his chest. She looked up at him, trying to decipher his expression. He let the coat fall on the ground and he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She felt the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, pulling her to him. Sneaking her arms around his neck, she parted her lips and traced his bottom lip with her tongue; he responded to the kiss, eagerly, sliding his hands down her back, stopping just inches before he could reach her butt.
She ran a hand through his hair, grinding against him, and he broke the kiss, shifting her body so that she was the one pressed against the door. He slid his hands up her sides, and she shivered. He stopped before his hands would reach the roundness of her breasts, and he pulled back.
"I hate it that he touched you before me," he said, his voice low. "I hate it that he had you before me. I hate it that you were in love with him, I hate everything about him."
"He doesn't have any of that anymore, Daniel," she whispered into his ear, casually slipping her hands under his shirt and tracing the curve of his spine with her fingers.
"How do I know you're not using me because he's in jail?" he asked, leaning his forehead against her left shoulder. His hands inched up, his thumbs drawing circular patterns on the curve of her breasts. She closed her eyes, the anticipation was killing her.
"You need to believe in me, Daniel," she said, bringing her hands to the front of his body, just above the waistline of his trousers. She hooked a finger in the belt, pulling at it before passing a hand over the fabric, feeling his hardness growing under her touch.
He groaned and started working on the buttons of her blouse. He didn't want to look her in the eyes, it was easier for him to stare at her body as her breasts slowly came in sight with each button he would undo. He took in the way the bra hugged her curves perfectly and dipped his head down, using his tongue to tease her, sliding it smoothly along the lacy fabric, still never really latching on her.
She arched her back, closing her eyes and working fast on Daniel's belt. As soon as she'd unbuckled it, she pushed the trousers downwards, so that they fell around his ankles. He stepped out of them, taking off his shoes hastily. He pushed the material of her blouse off her shoulder, tossing it away and surprised her by pulling her roughly off the wall, pressing her into him, staring into her eyes.
With one hand, placed in between her shoulder blades, he kept her in place, while the other slid down her side and rolled her skirt up around her hips and gripped the thin material of her thong, pulling at it roughly, ripping it to the side. Her eyes widened and she looked down, as her expensive, and now completely useless, thong fell to the ground.
He used his body to push her against the wall again and placed the left hand on the cold tile behind her, and with the other he reached down, behind her thigh, and lifted it above his right hip. She pushed his boxers down his thigh, freeing him and immediately gripping him tightly. He thrust against her hand, unable to control his body's movements. Lifting her leg higher around his waist, he used his free hand to position himself at her entrance. She arched her back, ready for the feeling she'd grown to be addicted to, and gasped when he thrust his whole length into her core, in one swift movement.
With one hand, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head up, crashing his lips on hers, meanwhile with the other hand she circled his waist and kept him still, pressed against hers. He pulled back from the kiss and leaned his free arm against the wall, at the side of her head.
He began to move inside her, thrusting roughly. Her hand slid down on his butt, pulling him to her harder with each thrust, moaning his name over and over. It ignited him, hearing his name coming from her lips, today more than anything. Because it was his, and not Connor's. Because he was the one who had her moaning. Because he was the one who could reduce her to a shivering mess.
She arched her back, and the leg she was balanced on almost gave up; he circled her waist and kept her in balance, thrusting harder. She clutched at his shoulders, rolling her head back. He kissed down her neck, biting on her collarbone. Her moans grew louder and more frequent, and he sped up his movements. She began to cry out, gripping his shirt into her fists; his fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, which he still kept high above his hips. He closed his eyes, doing everything he could to resist and fight his own release.
He buried his head in the nook of her neck, blocking out her moans as her orgasm hit her. The clenching of her inner walls against him, as he kept thrusting, was torture, but he was determined to win this one. As soon as the grip she had on his shirt lessened, he pulled back out, his erection still throbbing painfully.
Wilhelmina looked at him, confused, still breathing hard from her high. "What…why…" she tried to form a coherent sentence, but he didn't give her time. He worked on the zipper of her skirt, wrinkled and rolled up around her hips messily, sliding it down her legs. He took her by the hand and she stepped out of it, her legs like jelly. He lead her across the room and opposite the table, and he turned her around, coming to stand behind her, his hands on her stomach.
"Bend," he whispered into her ear.
She turned her head to the side, and met his gaze. "Are you trying to prove a point?" she asked, smirking in between deep breaths.
He smirked against the skin of her shoulder, darting his tongue out to slide it over the marks she'd showed to him. His hand travelled from the base of her spine along her back, upwards, reaching the base of her neck. She shivered, her own reactions making her grin, and bent over slowly, placing her hands on the wood of the table. She tilted her head to watch him over her shoulder, and the look in his eyes amused her and aroused her at the same time. Never, in her whole life, had a man wanted her more than Daniel did.
He gripped her by her hips tightly, and pushed deep inside her, groaning at the sensation. She bit her bottom lip and shut her eyes, her nails scratching the surface. It wasn't long before he started moving, keeping his thrusts slow and rhythmic. She moaned when he found her g-spot, feeling another orgasm building quickly and unexpectedly. She felt him bend slightly too, biting down on the skin of her back, maintaining his thrusts deliberately slow.
"Harder," she ordered in a whisper, gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. He was more than happy to comply, as his strength was starting to weaken the more he kept his movements up, unable to hold it in anymore. He started to slam harder into her, his fingers squeezing her skin madly.
Her walls tightened once again around him, and he rested his forehead against her back, groaning deep into his throat and stilling her against him as he finally let his release overcome him. She arched her back and cried out when her second orgasm hit her, and her nails dug violently into the surface.
She kept her eyes closed, leaning on her arms, and Daniel bent over her, placing his hands near hers. He placed his chin on her shoulder, their breathing perfectly synchronized. She opened her eyes slowly, and looked down onto the table.
"Oh. My. God…" she stuttered.
"Yeah…" he agreed, stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. "You know…I was just wondering how long it would take us to have angry sex."
She chuckled. "I guess we should have tried this a long time ago," she said, still taking in large gulps of air. "Daniel, I…it really is over between me and Connor."
He nodded and kissed her shoulder languidly. "I believe you."
***
He wished he would be able to enjoy his out-of-cell time, that afternoon, but instead he sat down in a corner, and watched as the other prisoners played basketball in the courtyard. He was good at basketball, he was the best amongst those people. They always wanted him in their teams, because they knew it would grant them to be the winning team.
Connor stared into space, his mind miles away. All he could think about was Wilhelmina, and what she had told him. Why had she felt the urgency to tell him? He could have lived without it. He would have served his time, and when the time was right he would have found out about it when he was free. Yes, he would have killed the motherfucker Meade, but that was a whole different story.
Knowing he was locked in there and meanwhile, somewhere in the outside world, Daniel Meade had his hands on her was unbearable. He banged his head back against the wall, looking up to the sky, cursing such a misfortunate fate.
"Hey Owens," came a familiar voice. He looked at the source and saw the man walking towards him. He was a tall white man, bald and wrinkly in his face. He was so thin you could see the bones sticking out from everywhere. Crime: fraud.
"Hey Mills," he greeted his cell mate. "Why aren't you playing?"
"Doctor's orders," the man answered, and leaned against the wall, sliding down and sitting next to Connor. "I saw the chick that came to visit today," he said, smirking. "Man, did you tap that?"
Connor frowned, well used to the man's antics, but still reluctant to the way the man used them in regard to Wilhelmina. "That was my girlfriend," he said, drawling the last word, wondering if the fact that he still referred to her as his girlfriend could be indicative of his unresolved issues. Clearly she could not be his girlfriend anymore, if she was banging someone else. Let alone if that someone else was Daniel Meade.
"I thought you said she dumped you?" he said, smirking. "Because, I mean, if she's available…give her my number, you know what I mean?"
"Shut up, Mills," he said, passing a hand through his hair, tiredly. "And by the way no, she's not available, because apparently she came in here because she wanted me to know she's in a relationship with the man I stole money from. Basically, she's stabbing me in the back."
"So…That was Wilhelmina Slater, uh?" the man named Mills asked, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that his cell mate had reluctantly told him in their endless, sleepless nights confined in a dark cell. "And let me guess…the man you stole money from…That must be Daniel? I can't remember his full name, sorry."
"Meade," Connor finished, and just mentioning the name he felt his blood boiling up. "Daniel fucking Meade. I mean, how could she? He's a closet gay!"
"Well, apparently not, if he's enjoying that," Mills said, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "Can't be that gay, after all."
"You should see the man, Mills. He's a douche!" Connor complained, slamming a fist on the ground. "I can't believe she let him trick her, he doesn't even care about her! He hates her, Mills! I bet he has some sort of agenda. He has to. There's no way Daniel Meade could ever be interested in Wilhelmina Slater, unless there was something more to it."
"Maybe he just finally saw that perfect ass of hers," Mills exclaimed, whistling in appreciation. Connor shot him a look and the man smiled wickedly. "Anyway, I thought you told me she went away from that place. Wasn't she at Emme, or something?"
"Elle," Connor corrected him. "And yes, she was, but the bastard has managed to get her on board for some sick plan that not even I understand. She's going back at Mode, or whatever it is she told me. I wasn't listening frankly. I just wanna punch him in the face, that son of a bitch."
Mills studied the man's profile for a second, then patted him on the back and got up, shaking the dust off his jumpsuit. "You know, Owens…" he began. "Life is a big wheel. They'll pay, when the time comes."
Connor snorted. "You don't know her, Mills. She's too smart. He's an idiot, but somehow he manages to make it through every time. I'm starting to think I'm the only one who's paying the price for their actions, here."
Connor looked up and noticed a gleam into the mate's eyes. "Connor, trust me," Mills said. "It's a matter of time. Their little worlds will come crumbling down. They'll regret it. They all do, sooner or later."
***
As they lay on the bed, he looked at her, chuckling. They had both just got out of the shower, and they were wearing their bathrobes. She was leaning against the headboard, her legs crossed at the ankles, while he had his head on her thighs, sideways.
He didn't know when they'd started talking about their exes, but they were. After listening to her rant about what a pain in the ass Sofia was, and how she couldn't stand her, it was his turn to trash someone.
"The cowboy," he stated, the word enough to make Wilhelmina smile. "Seriously, woman, what were you thinking?"
"I think I got into the southern charm, that time," she explained, running a hand through his hair. "He was good-looking, and he was fun. He was different from the men I usually dated. I think it's the differences that drew us together."
"He was a total scumbag," Daniel exclaimed, stretching his arm out to tickle her side. She slapped his hand away and raised an eyebrow. "Come on, you could do so much better."
"At least I didn't sleep with a lawyer just to get my father out of jail."
"At least I didn't screw your mother just to get my hands on your money."
Wilhelmina puckered her lips and bit the inside of her cheek. "Shall we change subject?" she said, trying to avoid the awkward conversation.
"Did you at least care the slightest bit about him?" Daniel asked, referring to his own father. Wilhelmina looked down, seeing the genuine curiosity in her eyes, without a trace of anger, and she decided she had to be careful dealing with this issue.
"Are we really going to talk about this?" she asked. "Isn't it weird?"
"It is," Daniel said, using his hands as leverage and propping himself on one elbow, facing her. "I don't want you to tell me you did just because he was my father. I'm just trying to get inside your head."
"I'm afraid you'll find a good deal of things you don't want to see, Daniel," she said.
"Try me," he insisted, sitting up straight, crossing his leg, facing her.
She sighed. "I had a great respect for your father, Daniel. I mean, if anything, I wished I could accomplish as much as he did. He was…a role model, on so many levels. He was an idiot, most of the time, don't get me wrong. He was your father, after all," she said, smirking, and he slapped her on her thigh. "But he was a determined business mind. He was a money machine. He was…he was ok. But when I got into that relationship it was far from a love affair, Daniel, and you know that. I must have cared for him, on some level, but that was definitely not love."
Daniel nodded and placed his hand on her leg, under the soft material of the robe wrapped around her body. He kneaded the skin he found, and she tilted her head. "What's going through your mind?" she asked, deciding if he had just asked for access to her mind she might as well be granted access into his.
"I miss my father," he said. "Sometimes, when I least expect it, I find myself asking what he would have done in certain situations, with certain people. I wonder if he would look at me and be proud of what I have become."
She didn't like the way the conversation had started off as a light one and was now heading into more serious business. She wasn't ready to do it, yet. She did the only thing she could think off. She moved from her position against the headboard and got nearer to him, sliding a leg on his lap, and slowly straddling him. She cupped his face with both hands and leaned in, kissing him. He kissed her back, moving his hands to rest on her thighs, under the robe.
The phone rang. She pulled back and stretched her arm behind her, grabbing the phone. She looked at the ID and read Marc St. James on the screen.
"It's Marc," she said, while Daniel started kissing down her jaw line.
"Leave it," he mumbled against her skin.
"No, I have to get this," she said. "He tried calling four times already, while we were under the shower playing the dolphin's mating."
He laughed at the analogy. "Fine, answer, but be quick," he said, his mouth not leaving the skin of her neck. "I'm interested in studying as many animals' mating processes as we can."
She rolled her eyes, snapping the phone open, and brought it to her ear. "Wilhelmina Slater," she said, casually drawing circular patterns on the base of his neck with his free hand. She heard wheezing on the other end, and recognized immediately the noise of Marc's inhaler. "Marc, what's wrong?" she asked, unimpressed.
"Willie…prison…disaster."
Wilhelmina frowned and her hand stopped moving. "What are you saying, Marc?" She heard the inhaler's noise again, and her patience started to decrease dangerously. "Marc, put the damn inhaler down and explain!"
Daniel looked up, questioningly. She shook her head and lifted a finger.
"Willie," Marc started, breathing deeply. "Someone just called from the Federal Penitentiary. They KNOW."
"Marc, you have one minute to be sure your sentences have sense, or I swear I'm shoving a broomstick down your throat as soon as I see you."
"I got a call from a lawyer whose client is a prisoner of the Federal Penitentiary, they say they know about you and Daniel's plan to take over Elle and they offered a deal to keep their mouth shut," he said without pausing in between words. "They want money. A shitload of money, Willie. So much money we could solve Lindsay Lohan's drug problems if we had that amount."
Wilhelmina's eyes darted to Daniel's, then she got off his lap and off the bed, pacing around the room under his scrutiny.
"How much?" she asked.
Marc made a noise, and stuttered: "I don't know Willie, they didn't say, they just said they want a lot."
"Isn't there any law against this? Isn't this illegal?" she asked, feeling foolish for letting someone trap her with her own weapons of choice.
"I'm sure there is, but there must be some law against what we're doing too! We're going to prison, Willie. We're going to prison, and they'll force me to get a tattoo done on my pretty face. I'll look like a thug, I'll be a murderer's bitch!"
"Marc, stop the hype right now," she ordered, stopping in the middle of the room and placing one hand on her hips. "I'm going to think about this, I need to collect my ideas. I'll get back to you as soon as I have a solution."
"And hopefully that solution won't include tattoos and prisons, right?" Marc asked.
" Hopefully," she concluded, disconnecting the call. Her arm fell down her side, still gripping the phone in her hand, and she stared ahead, with a blank expression on her face.
Daniel, who had been silent for the whole time, waited for an explanation, but when it didn't come he grew slightly concerned. "What happened? Who's doing something illegal?" he asked.
Wilhelmina shifted her gaze upon him, her face still wearing the most confused expression he'd ever seen on her. "You know Daniel, I'm not sure, because I'm usually on the other side, threatening…But I think someone is blackmailing us."
***
"You are the most stupid woman I've ever met, Wilhelmina!" Claire shouted, slamming her fist on the glass metallic surface of Wilhelmina's kitchen. "I can't believe you would tell Connor about our plans! That was the single dumbest thing you could do!"
"I didn't know he would tell anybody!" she retorted, knowing there was no excuse, no witty remark, no way she could talk herself out of that situation. She knew it was her fault, she shouldn't have said that, she should have just stuck with the original plan and told him about Daniel. Why did she have to go and talk about Elle too? "I thought I could trust him."
"Yes, obviously, because he gave us such good reasons to trust him the first time he stole the company's money, didn't he Wilhelmina?" Claire snapped. "So you thought, hey, why not go after a repeat performance? How could you be so monumentally naïve?"
"You can say all you want, Claire, but I'm sure he didn't spill with the purpose to cause any problem. I'm sure it was a slip up," she insisted, not knowing why she was still defending him.
"How do you know that, Wilhelmina?" Claire pressed. "You strolled in and rubbed your relationship with a person who took his fiancé from him, right in his face. How can you be so delusional?"
"Because I know him, ok?" she said. "I know he wouldn't do this to me, not even if I hurt him."
She could feel Daniel's gaze upon her, and she looked at him, who was leaning against the wall, his arms folded on his chest, clearly trying to ignore what she was saying. She sighed, knowing he was probably going to throw it all in her face again, later, but she had to explain to Claire the reality of things.
"He's still in love with me," she continued. "And he said he wouldn't give up. He knows he wouldn't have a chance, if he did this. He wouldn't be that stupid."
Daniel snorted and pushed himself off the wall, leaving the room. Claire followed him with her eyes, then turned to Wilhelmina again.
"Who is this man, anyway?" she asked.
"I don't have the name yet, I told Marc to gather some info. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago," she said, checking the clock. She couldn't deny the fact that she was worried for him. What if something had happened to him?
The doorbell rang just as her thoughts were leading her to think about the many ways Marc could have been killed, and she sighed in relief. Before she could even realize it, she was running along the corridor, on her five-inches heels, and on her way she cast a glance towards Daniel, who was sitting on the couch, his legs on the coffee table, sulking. She stopped, pointing at his legs. "Off," she ordered, and he snorted, ignoring her demand. She shook her head. "I'm going to deal with you later," she said, throwing her hands in the air and reaching the door; she opened it wide, and Marc came running inside, dragging Amanda with him.
Wilhelmina frowned. "Did you have to bring your own personal assistant?" she asked, closing the door.
"Yes," he said, out of breath. He looked around quickly, just as Claire came in the room. He noticed Daniel's childish pouting, and shook his head, focusing back on what he had to say. He held up a thick folder, waving it. Wilhelmina stepped forward and snatched it from the man's hands, going to sit on the couch next to Daniel. He shot her a look and scooted further away from her. She narrowed her eyes, exasperated, and then went back to the folder.
"Hector Mills," she said out loud, and Claire walked up to the couch and sat on the armrest, leaning to read over Wilhelmina's shoulder.
Marc and Amanda couldn't help but notice how homely the image was. Daniel leaned his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "What is he in jail for?" he asked, deciding that he couldn't just pretend they weren't in a huge mess.
"Fraud, of course," Wilhelmina explained, skimming through the contents. "I don't know what to make of this," she said, looking at the page. "Marc, where did you find this stuff?"
"Actually, Amanda did," he said, pointing to the little blonde friend.
She nodded and stepped forward. "I know the lawyer. Stan Kelly. I mean, he was a friend of my adoptive father, as soon as Marc told me his name a called my dad. I asked him if he knew a way to know which of Stan's clients were in the Federal Penitentiary. Turned out, there was only one of them, and that's the guy on those papers."
Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes at Amanda. "Do I want to know how your father got his hands on these files?"
"No, you don't," she replied, grinning.
"Alright, that's it, I'm calling Roger," Claire interrupted them, standing up and reaching into her pocket.
"Who's Roger?" Wilhelmina asked Daniel.
"Her lawyer," he explained, picking on his shirt. Wilhelmina stood up and spun around hastily snatching the phone from Claire's hands.
"You can't call a lawyer! We can't sue!" Wilhelmina exclaimed. "You think what I did with those forms, at Elle, is legal? No, it's not."
"Give me my phone," Claire ordered, stretching her arm out. "I'm giving you ten seconds to give me my phone, before I attack you viciously."
"I'm giving you your phone back as soon as you promise you won't call lawyers, police, the army or whomever it is you want to call," Wilhelmina said, lifting the phone up and dangling it in front of Claire's face. The woman looked at it, then nodded. Wilhelmina placed it on her palm, and Claire, put it back into her pocket.
"What's the plan, then?" Claire asked, going to sit next to Daniel. Wilhelmina looked down on the two of them, then turned around to face Marc and Amanda. The two took a step back, as if her glare had almost actually pushed them. She, on her part took a step forward.
Amanda grabbed Marc's hand and leaned in. "What is she doing?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, as they kept backing up. When they reached the wall behind them, they had to stop. They looked frantically at her, as she drew closer. She placed her hands on her hips and smirked.
"I need the two of you to meet with the guy and his lawyer," she said. "Tell them we agree to pay off."
"WHAT!" Claire yelled, standing up hastily.
Wilhelmina ignored her, continuing. "Meanwhile, I'll talk to my father, and I'll ask for a private meeting with Connor."
"WHAT!" Daniel yelled, this time, mirroring his mother's actions.
Wilhelmina turned around and rolled her eyes. "We need to buy more time. If they think we're going to pay, they'll be patient for, say, a few more days. All we need, now, is more time so that we can speed things up. And Daniel," she said, facing him. "I want you to come with me, when I meet Connor. We'll sort this out, and I'm sure he'll help us. There must be some dirt on this Hector Mills he can help us use against that scumbag."
"He will never help me, Wilhelmina," he said.
"But he will help me," she pointed out. "Daniel, I need you to be there. I need you."
Hearing whispering from behind her, she turned around and narrowed her eyes at Amanda and Marc, whose head were close together, blabbing about something. "What?" she barked.
"Nothing," Marc exclaimed. But then his expression softened, and he smiled "It's just…Can you say that again? I want to use it as my ringtone."