Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 456

“Besides, he left with nothing. You know better than I do what happened to all his assets... So this three hundred million,” Janet said, clenching her fists, her voice firm, “don’t you think I’m entitled to it?”

If her father were still alive and running the Wilcox Group, a few hundred million would be nothing. But alas, Trent’s incompetent father had ruined everything.

“You’re an illegitimate child! What right do you have to the family inheritance?” Trent, infuriated, dropped the act and slammed his hands on the table. “Janet, don’t make me do this the hard way.”

“Sign this agreement, and I’ll give you two million. Otherwise...” Trent leaned across the table, his face menacingly close to hers. “Don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Janet, who had always been gentle and avoided conflict, had never been in a situation like this. Her legs trembled uncontrollably. But then she thought of Juniper, who had promised she would be there for her. With that thought, Janet managed to hide her fear.

“Go ahead and try,” Janet retorted, clenching her jaw.

With that defiant last word, she turned and strode away.

Trent was left standing there, his face pale with rage. So she wanted to play tough? Fine. He wouldn’t show any mercy.

Trent took out his phone and made a call. “Starting today, keep an eye on Janet and her mother. Find an opportunity... I don’t want them alive.”

Once Janet was dead, there would be no heir to Orville’s will, and the inheritance would naturally revert to them.

...

In the car, Janet gulped down water, her body still shaking.

“You were that scared,” Juniper said, wiping Janet’s mouth with a tissue.

Listening to the conversation between Trent and the hitman through her earpiece, she smirked. “The show is about to begin.”

“Cut the crap and get in the van,” the leader said, regaining his composure. “You’d better not scream, or I’ll kill you.”

“I’m not screaming,” Juniper replied, glancing nonchalantly at the knife at her throat. “I’ll cooperate, but I have three conditions.”

“What?” one of the goons asked, craning his neck in curiosity. This was the first time they’d ever had such a cooperative victim.

Juniper calmly listed her terms:

“First, I get carsick, so I have to sit in the front passenger seat.”

“Second, connect my phone to the Bluetooth and play my playlist.”

“Third...” Juniper glanced at the strangely shaped goon to her right. “Keep his face out of my sight. I have a thing about ugliness.”