img Escaping The Grasp Of My Billionaire  /  Chapter 5 | 4.17%
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Chapter 5

Word Count: 1054    |    Released on: 13/05/2026

nergy of the main club. It was dimly lit, soundproof

tly to her chest in a fetal position. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth grinding together as she rode out the

eels sinking into the thick carpet. She was carefully balancing a delica

Dawn's trembling shoulder. "Hey. Sit up just a little bit

rom the unshed tears of physical pain. She uncurled her bod

teacup to Dawn's pale lips. Da

e heat traveled down her throat, settling into her violently cramping stomach. The medicinal properties

She exhaled a long, shaky breath. The intense physical pain

he peppermint vapor drifted into her n

a specific scent bypasses the logical brain a

ed her of cheap chewing gum. It reminded her of a boy who constantly che

etching and fading until it was replaced by the shrill, chaotic noise of teenagers. The dim ligh

rce of a physical blow, draggi

seventee

in Manhattan where the tuition cost more than her father made in a decade. She was there

classroom, pushed right up against the massive windows. She wore a pristine, perfectly ironed uniform. Her skirt was the regulation length. Her tie was knotted p

llway outside. It was a mix of loud, obnoxious

a

ked open with such force that it slammed again

d strode in

slung carelessly over one shoulder. His school uniform was a disaster. The top two buttons of his crisp white s

rust-fund baby who knew the rules didn't apply to him

pped talking, their eyes tracking his every movement with undisguised

e fixed straight ahead, jaw tight, deliberately ignoring the figure in his peripheral visi

tbook. Her fingers tightened around her mechanical pencil. T

scratch paper, writing out formulas at a frantic pace. The scratching sound of th

bout a weekend yacht party his family was hosting in the Hamptons. His voice was a lazy,

make herself physically smaller. She

desperate prayer. He is a Hammond. I live in a neighborhood where t

ut, signaling the end of the period. It was a harsh sound that

shoved it into her worn canvas tote bag, her movements jerky and panicked. She needed to get out of this room. She need

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