The Price of Power

If only Ashton knew exactly who he was dealing with right now. He took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling in Ashton's stupid, smug face. Unfortunately for them, he held all the cards. They couldn't negotiate a deal for a dead girl, now, could they? In the end, Lance smirked, his lip slightly twitching.

They had always been pathetic.

"Fine, guess I can't help you."

"Give him what he wants," Natalia snarled at Ashton.

"My ass will be handed to me—"

"Who gives a shit about you? This is about Kayla! And every second you've wasted flapping your big lips is a second taken away from her life."

Ashton sighed. "Fine. I'll do it."

"I want that in writing," Lance tilted his head. "Tomorrow."

"Anything else?" Ashton grit out. "How about a foot massage?"

"Maybe later," Lance tossed the cigarette on the ground. "Once I have what I want, you'll get what you want. Fair is fair."

They glared at him.