No More Submission: The Heiress Strikes Back

eyes sna

f her Upper East Side bedroom, but all she could taste was the sterile, chemical tang of a hospita

cotton sheets so hard her knuckles turned a stark, bloodless white.

attled the solid oak

through her chest, interrupting her desp

en this door

with irritation. He accused her of giving Fallon the cold shoulder last n

present perfectly overlapped with the cold, dead tone he had used

omatic terror forced her body to scramble backward, her

ce. The brass doorkn

light spilling from the hallway. He stood over her, casting a long, suffocating shadow

the large room. "You are going to apologize to Fallon

and the sudden, metallic taste of copper flooded her mouth. The bl

tilted he

an to freeze over. The warmth drained from her face, leaving b

his ego. He instinctively raised his voice, a h

me? Apologiz

didn't launch into her

t touched the cold hardwood floor. She took two seconds to smooth ou

ice was flat, devoid of any inflecti

d in his throat. He stared at her, completely

ecover, Harmony t

ly calm, "I think we should host a formal welcome

s line. He searched her pale face for any sign of

pping the bait with surgical precision, "she needs a high-profile endorseme

rson family's greatest weakness was thei

ed into arrogant satisfaction. He

e watch. "You're actually acting like a daug

his heel an

r, not bothering to look back. "Don't try

shut, the sound echoing l

She slumped against the solid wood of the door, he

stand. She opened the calendar. The date glowing on the

st hosting a dinner for Fallon. That refusal had branded her as a bitter,

ment. She had just pushed Fallon onto a massive, unforgiving stage, di

f the floor. She walked o

le, but the pathetic, desperate need fo

through her long hair, pulling hard. With every painful stroke,

o her massive

off their velvet hangers. These were the clothes her mother forced her to we

he closet and pulled out a sha

cold black silk over her shoulders, feeling the