“Name it,” Carver snapped.
“All right, Carver, since this doesn’t seem to be sinking in, I’ll explain it to you. I love your daughter. I’ve loved her for decades. My children love her. We’re happy, finally, f**king happy. You don’t have enough money to make me walk away from that. There isn’t enough money to make me walk away from that.”
“You’re only saying that because Elle has more than four times that amount in her trust,” Carver shot back.
At his words, it was Prentice’s body that went tight.
Then he looked down at Elle and asked, his voice sounding stunned because he f**king well was. “You have over forty-eight million dollars?”
She licked her lips, the nerves acute and visible and she nodded. “At my last meeting with my accountants, it was around fifty-three.”
Prentice couldn’t wrap his mind around fifty-three million dollars.
Carver cut into this endeavor and declared, “I’ll give you fifty-four.”
Elle sucked in breath.
Prentice’s surprised eyes sliced to the man and he muttered the first thing that came to his mind.
“You’re mad.”
“Fifty-four million dollars, you’ll have it tomorrow. No strings,” Carver confirmed. “We’ll find a way around red tape, taxes, everything. You’ll have it mid-morning. Tomorrow afternoon, you walk away.”
“Mad,” Prentice repeated.
“I’m not mad, I’m deadly serious,” Carver returned.
“You’re mad,” Prentice stated again.
“I have it and Isabella knows it,” Carver’s eyes moved to his daughter. “Don’t you?” he demanded and, when she didn’t answer, he leaned forward. “Look at her, Cameron. She knows it and she knows you’re going to take it.”
“Definitely mad,” Prentice muttered yet again.
“Stop saying that!” Carver snapped.
“Carver, if you think I’m going to take that money, you are definitely mad.”
Elle’s body jolted violently at his side but Prentice ignored it and ignored Carver’s mouth dropping open. He didn’t, however, ignore just how f**king satisfied witnessing the bastard’s angry astonishment made him feel.
“Now, I’ll say it one last time before we call the police. It’s late. We’ve got less than a week to pack Elle’s things before we go home. We need to get back to bed. Please leave.”
Carver’s eyes shot daggers at him. Prentice simply returned his furious stare.
Carver broke contact and his gaze took in his daughter, top-to-toe, before he returned it to Prentice.
“You’ll regret it,” Carver warned in a low voice.
“That’s doubtful,” Prentice returned.
“I regretted it, marrying her mother,” Carver went on, Elle gasped and Prentice pulled her more tightly against his side.
“The feeling, Carver, was obviously, and sadly, mutual,” Prentice replied softly and then, his voice firm, his intent unmistakable, he finished, “Now, we’re done.”
The bastard gave them both a scathing look before he stalked, back ramrod straight, out of the room.
Prentice followed him and locked the door behind him.
When he turned, Elle was standing in the foyer.