ry's stomach as she pushed open th

a plush leather sofa, the undisputed king in his court. Kade Wexler

well. If it isn't little Rory Conway. Six years is a long time. D

om. She kept her chin high, her hands clasped in front of her to hide their

w table in front of him. On it sat an unopened bottle of Macallan 25 Year Old Sco

leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I'm prepared to offer you fifty thousand dollars

blood r

hot of tequila had landed her in the emergency room with a violent allergic reaction. He had been the one

ody's greatest wea

bly. "Corbin, come on. Th

l look from Corb

show. "I'd call that a bargain. What's the matter, Conway? Too good for o

needle, sinking d

s a number. It was the down payment for Willa's surgery. It was months of th

daughter's life. It w

pression one of detached, clinical interest. He was

ving toward the stack of cas

heard herself say, h

as replaced by a look of dark satisfaction. He had been

y legs. Kade slid a heavy crystal

d poured a generous measure into the glass. The amber liquid swirled, catching the light

es watered, but she didn't stop. She slammed the empty glass down and immediately poured another, just as full. And then

o sip, to choke, to beg. He had not expected t

is head away, u

ony were now streaming down her face. The room was starting to spin. A hot, prickling rash was already blooming

tion was starting

rectly at Corbin, her gaze a mixture of shattered pride and raw hatred.

her body, and she stru

ears that made her eyes shine with a broken, feverish light. The triumphant thrill of revenge he had