The Disgraced Heiress's Deal With The Devil

el's second-floor restaurant reeked of ric

her palms so hard they nearly drew blood. Her own father had lied to her. He had tearfully begged h

across the table was Silas Thorne-a notor

oudy eyes fixed on her chest with a damp, sickeningly lecherous gaze. "Fifty million to buy you. I'm very satisfied with

d the fifty million investment to keep her younger brother out of prison. Her father had thrown her to the wolves

sent me here to discuss

squeezing together in a display of pure, greasy entitlement. "Why hid

hat money to save your brother? Look. Your stepsister just posted from her first-class flight to Paris, flaunting a new diamond

d even process the cruel truth, Silas suddenly reached across the table, his dam

a violently jerked back, dodging his filthy touch, a

ed his face, but a second later, he let out a cold, sleazy chuckle.

ble. "Fine. Drink to our deal, and I'll sign the fifty million check ri

Francisca picked up the glass. She took a small swallow

omach. Her breath hitched. A heavy, melting weakness spread rapidly through h

gged t

legs trembling so badly she nearly knocked over her chair. Before the old man could react, she turned and stumbled fra

onto her face. But it was useless. The drug was moving too fast, tu

Bang

ud rattled

ade, dripping with vile lust. "The drug is already kicking in! Your father took my money, which makes you the bitch

of humiliation and fierce fury stinging her eyes. I

remembered the restaurant was only on the second floor. If she climbed out and dropped to the first

tumn wind of New York slashed at her bare skin, a brutal contrast to the fire burning insid

e desperately, her bare feet frantically seeking purchase, until

e, crashing heavily ont

ooked up-and her breat

round floor. And standing just a f

ssed in a bespoke three-piece suit that screamed untouchable wealth, he had just fi

en crash, the ma

le and eyes as black as an endless abyss. But it wasn't his looks that paralyzed her; it was the sheer, su

on't let her escape!" Silas's furious r

e drug had completely destroyed her balance. Her legs gave out entirel

ical contact with strangers disgusted him to the point of murder. He raised a large, cal

ngers brushed against her

brain that kept him awake, turning him into a violent, cold-blooded monster. No doctor could cure it. B

ne silence washe

She couldn't control herself. She whimpered painfully, her delicate hands instinctively grabbing his expensive silk tie. Driven by the unbeara

ous, stormy black. Instead of pushing her away, his large hand slid down to h

his chest, Everet turned and

r, Liam, his head of security, hurried o

ms, the "Living Hades" of Wall Street who treated women like walking diseases-was holding a half-undressed, flushe

He effortlessly adjusted his grip, pressing Francis

manded, his voice a low, freezing

arms. A dark, predatory fire ignited in his cold eyes as he

red, his voice dripping with dangerous possession.