al building and into the relentles

ing it to her skin. The burn on her han

hrough the bustling city, before her body f

ice a hoarse whisper. It was a high-end private

ed her head against the cool glass, fighti

e serene, manicured entrance. She paid the drive

shed to her side. "Mrs. Webb! You're

. "Forgot my umbrell

table. She's resting n

aceful, sleeping face of the only family she had left was a balm to her r

arterly fees were due, a staggering sum that Jordon paid without qu

the emergency entrance burst open. A

ck, hiding herself behind a la

art st

ing down the corridor, his

ms, he was ca

rembling. But Ciara didn't need to see her face. She

vintage Cart

lare-up, a damsel in perpetual distress. Her assista

voice was a sharp, commanding bark, la

ess than fifteen feet away, as her h

e final, fatal blow. It was the look she had craved, th

igence Jasmine carried, a vital link to a cr

n desperately in lov

f hope inside her

nds clamped over her mouth to keep a sob from es

? A pawn. A bargaining chip. An heir to be seized an

o

ed in her bones. She had to prot

he turned and walked silently out a side

thumb moved with cold precisio

she blocked his assistant,

ck to the city. Her spine was straight, her

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