"Kendrick, what the hell are you doing here?" A deep, rich middle-aged voice boomed from outside the door.
A man with a crew cut, graying temples, and a build that still looked strong for his fifty-plus years stormed in, face twisted with anger.
The second he entered, he yanked Kendrick up off the floor and slapped him twice across the face. Then he turned to Eldon, brows knitted tight, and bowed his head in apology. "Mr. Haywood, I am so sorry. My son has caused you trouble again."
Eldon's lips curved into a faint smile. "No harm done. I actually admire Mr. Gilbert's devotion. He just offered to trade shares worth half a billion dollars for this woman's freedom..."
"That is not happening!" Preston Gilbert, Kendrick's father, cut in sharply.
"Those shares were left to me by my mother.
