“Blacklist me, then,” Connor says. “This is a terrible party. You didn’t even bother to serve food.” Matt’s head jerks back in surprise. “You’re going to choose them over us?” Connor nods, his muscles tensing. “Yes. Let’s see what we have here. Net worth of maybe”—he scans the mansion behind me—“twenty-five million combined.” He points to Lo and me. “Calloway and Hale. That’s every fucking soda can in your house and all your little nephews and nieces’ diapers. Billions. So yeah, I’m going to side with the two people that make your inheritances look like chump change.”
