Chaz slapped Helen across the face, leaving her seeing stars.

"You asked for it!" he bellowed. "Take her away!"

While Helen was being shoved into a BMW, a black Maybach drove into The Dynasty's parking lot as well.

Vicky was riding shotgun dressed in a bewitching purple dress, watching Frank as she asked, "Henry Lane's funeral will be held in a few days. Are you attending it?"

"Yeah." Frank nodded somberly. "He saved my life. No matter what the Lanes did, I'll send him off one last time."

It has been three days, and he had gathered himself by now.

she was going to start talking about what they should drink, she frowned as she

"What the heck?"

was unusual, and her woman's intuition

brands after all, and Vicky could tell that it was expensive.

Screech!

from the opposite side stopped beside their Maybach,

isn't Frank Lawrence and Ms. Turnbull! What, here to get drunk as well?" Chaz whistled pointedly at Frank, in a good mood even as he glanced at Helen who was being pressed against the

which immediately left

pompous act." He snorted and turned toward Vicky, raising his brow repeatedly and flirtatiously. "Forgive me for being Frank, Ms. Turnbull, but keeping your gigolo would eventually lead to your family's downfall. You really should dump

your own business, Mr. Graves. Why don't you go back to Southstream and lap up what's left of it?" Vicky's

was given a slap in the face, he was not annoyed at all. "Don't worry—I'm sure you'll be begging at my doorstep in a

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