The Tasting Room had a secluded alley behind it. That’s where Penelope had told Chasel to meet her.
When she arrived, he was squatting on the ground, smoking, a pile of cigarette butts at his feet. He had clearly been waiting for a while. Seeing her, he flicked his cigarette away and stood up, furious.
“You kept me waiting for half the day, you bitch!”
“You’re asking for thirty million, not three thousand,” Penelope said coldly. “It takes time to get that kind of cash.”
In truth, she had arrived much earlier and had been waiting in the shadows for someone else to get into position.
Chasel was impatient. “Enough talk. Give me the money!”
Penelope took a check from her purse and waved it in front of his face before tucking it back into her pocket.
He lunged for it and missed. “Give it to me!” he snarled.
“The videos you took of me. Delete them.”
Chasel shot her a glare but pulled out his phone. He found the videos from the restaurant—the ones of her with the Lancasters and the one of her hitting Mr. Lancaster Sr.—and deleted them in front of her.
He undoubtedly had backups. This wouldn’t be the only time he tried to fleece her.
“Why are these videos so important that you had to come yourself? It’s a waste of my time.”
They weren’t important, but her presence was non-negotiable.
“My reputation doesn’t matter, but I won’t let the Stapletons be disgraced because of me. The videos have to be erased.”
Chasel’s eyes darted around. “So it seems that the next time I’m short on cash…”
“You didn’t delete everything?”
“Of course I did. Your brother wouldn’t lie to you.”


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