Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
"Did you find it?"
"We did, it's in our possession right now," Scott answered.
I nodded, "I will be there. I just want to fucking end this shit with Bolton. I'm fucking tired of hearing his fucking name!"
Scott chuckled on the other line. "That would be a little hard, considering you married his daughter. Elijah Bolton is tied to you for life."
"Evangeline isn't Bolton anymore, she is a Costello."
"Yeah but that's his blood coursing through her veins," he chuckled.
Irritation surged up inside of me, "Don't fucking say shit like that! I have no fucking idea how that scum can father a child like her."
Scott laughed out loud at that, "We all get lucky sometimes, don't we?"
"Sometimes, I wonder how he'd react if he saw me fucking his daughter," I laughed, "That's the kind of shit I'd pay to see."
"That psychopath would have probably tried to kill you."
I was sitting on the living room couch when I noticed her walking downstairs, "Wouldn't that be fun?" I said to Scott mindlessly, she had all of my fucking attention in those short shorts and a pink tank top.
"How is she anyway?"
"She's fine," I answered, watching her phenomenal ass as she wandered into the kitchen, "Don't go in there without me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. Did you know that there are three fucking doors to get into that thing? The first one opens with Evangeline's face, Alessandro had worked something out from her picture. The second one opens with the key and the third one opens with her thumbprint. He must have kept something fucking precious in there."
"That's exactly what I am hoping for," I heard a loud clattering noise from the kitchen followed by her loud annoyed groan, "It'd take me a while to get down there."
"Why? What the fuck are you doing?"
I smirked, "His daughter."
"You sick bastard," he snickered.
I hung up the call and threw the phone on the couch before I went into the kitchen and saw her sitting on the kitchen island chair, her head plopped down over her arms. She sniffled a few times, was she crying again?
I went closer to her and touched her back, rubbing my hand up and down, "Baby girl..." her back muscles stiffened, and without looking at me, she got off the chair and tried to get away from me, "What's wrong, are you still mad?"
She shook her head, "Nothing, nothing is wrong, Nikolai..."
