Chapter 92

“We manufacture vehicles,” he says, and then grins at me. “Pretty much any car made in the USA or Italy has the Payson stamp on it somewhere.” I smile back, but actually, I already knew the answer to that question. I studied every Blueblood on that list, their family, and their net worth. I know who’s the richest of the rich, and who’s just hanging on by a thread.

Raucous laughter rings across the lot, and I lift my head to find Zayd with his head thrown back. He’s howling over something Greg’s just said, his arm around Becky’s waist. My blood boils hot as they all pile into a blue Jaguar F-type convertible, gravel churning as they take off out of the parking lot with no regard to anyone else. I cringe as Zayd just barely misses smashing the front of his car into Valentina’s Porsche.

“Idiots,” I mumble as I spot Zack’s orange McLaren parked across the way. He’s leaning against it, watching me. “Stalker,” I add, flipping him off before I unlock the doors to the Lambo and