Half a million for a piece of fine virgin snatch and it sends you all f*****g doolally.” He shakes his head. “Now you’re after a settlement agreement for that same f*****g p***y? Willing to pay a whole f*****g mill for it?”
“Stay out of it,” I snap. “It’s none of your f*****g business.”
“Oh but it is,” he snarls. “Because she’s addled your f*****g brain, boy.
The woman’s playing you for a silly f*****g fool.”
“You know nothing about it,” I tell him, “and you definitely know nothing about her. Just get the f**k out of here.”
“Amy Leigh Randall?” he asks, and my breath hitches. “Twenty-one years old, perfect bloodwork, lives in EC1 with her lovely parents and two delightful younger siblings, yes?”
I don’t say a word as he flips open the file. He slams a photo of some random woman down
