He Gave Our Baby To His Mistress Then I Was Reborn Chapter 09
After Richard threw him out, Preston had nothing. He applied at a few companies. Everyone knew what he’d done. Every door slammed shut.
He tried construction. Lasted three days before the exhaustion broke him. Fired for being useless.
He tried washing dishes at a restaurant. The kitchen women mocked him. Called him a loser for stealing their jobs at his age.
Eventually he just sat at home.
Sierra had a two-year community college degree, no experience, and the entire city knew her as the notorious mistress. Nobody would hire her.
She started hanging around clubs and bars.
Eventually she found her real talent. Charming men in dim rooms for cash.
Rumor is she landed a rich sugar daddy recently. Dumped Preston and moved on.
Which is why Preston is now grinding his face into the dirt, begging me to take him back.
I think for a minute. Then I call my assistant and give him instructions.
Outside the Hyatt, I park across the street and wait.
Fifteen minutes later, Preston shows up. He storms into the lobby and up the stairs.
A few minutes later, he drags a half-dressed Sierra out the front doors by her hair.
“You whore. You told me you only pour drinks. You couldn’t go a week without a man?”
He grabs her hair and starts kicking her hard between the legs.
Sierra shrieks.
“Preston, you piece of shit, let go of me!”
“How dare you hit me? Without me making money, you’d be begging on the street! What right do you have?”
Preston’s face contorts. He slaps her again and again.
“You slut. You’re the one who’s rotten and you blame me? You cursed my whole life. If you hadn’t seduced me, I’d still be running Whitmore Corp. I wouldn’t need your dirty money.”
“I’m going to kill you for whoring around.”
He kicks her again. Sierra bites down on his forearm. Preston howls.
A crowd forms fast. Phones come out. People whisper and laugh.
“Isn’t that Preston Whitmore? Boston’s richest kid?”
“That’s the mistress, right? The one who swapped her own baby for the wife’s, and then let her own kid die?”
“That’s her. Saw it on the news. Look at that face. Textbook homewrecker.”
“Why are they fighting? Weren’t they in love?”
“You didn’t hear? Preston isn’t a real Whitmore. He was adopted. The old man kicked him out. Sierra dumped him for a sugar daddy. Now he’s here trying to catch her cheating.”
“Karma. That’s karma.”
Nobody’s had this much entertainment in weeks. They all crowd in, laughing.
Preston, red-faced, tries to pry Sierra’s teeth off his arm.
“Let go. Come home with me. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
A heavy, balding man in a bad suit steps out of the hotel. Bloated stomach, gold watch. He walks up to Preston, pats him on the shoulder, and flings a stack of cash in his face.
“Preston, my man. Hitting women isn’t a good look.”
“Sierra’s been taking care of me a few times. Not bad in bed. Good energy. Real enthusiastic.”
“Don’t hit her anymore. You need money, just say the word. Get the bed made and the water hot, and big brother will send some cash your way.”
Tony Draven pats Preston’s cheek.
“Preston’s got taste. Girl’s a keeper.”
He laughs, adjusts his jacket, and starts to walk off.
Preston’s eyes go red. He lunges at Tony.
Tony pivots, plants a boot in his stomach. Preston folds like paper, curled up on the pavement.
Tony snaps his fingers. Three men in black jump in and start stomping.
Tony brushes off his sleeve.
“Ignorant trash. You think Tony Draven is short on women? If you weren’t a former rich kid, I wouldn’t take this trash if you paid me.”
“Throwing me business and you don’t even know it. Beat him. I’ve got money for the hospital bill.”
Preston is begging for his life, blood pouring from his mouth, sprawled on the ground gasping.
I watch it all through my windshield. Roll the window up. My Ferrari purrs off into traffic.
A moment later, my phone lights up.
“Ms. Sinclair, was it satisfactory?”
I text back: “Very.”
“An honor to serve, Ms. Sinclair. I look forward to your future business.”
I reply with one word: “Good.”