he floor and up into my heels. The dry, hot air hit my shins, but I couldn't stop shaking.
ing up with my irregular breathing. Outside, New York was just a blur of neon lights and wet pavement, but ins
d by the streetlights. He looked completely calm, while I sat there in a ruined Dior dress that smelled of damp silk an
saw the smeared blue frosting on my knuckles-remnants of the cake he had destroyed. I tried to wipe it
st stood there. He had watched me leave. He hadn't even reached out a hand to say goodb
e arrived at a glass tower that seemed to disappear into
t. He didn't wait for me. He didn't offer his hand. He simply stood on the sidewalk, his shadow long and imposing un
d walls reflected exactly what I was: a mess. Loose hair, red eyes... and
ibit. Everything was marble, glass, and shadows. There were no family pho
ibrary,"
ince the ballroom. His voice was low,
s of books that looked as if they had never been opened. He circled an obsidian desk-black, polished, impenetrable-and s
e. You're making
t me as he pulled a stac
e leather chair was cold
us," I lied. "
uth. It wasn't happiness. It was
ave a debt. Ten million in interest alone, Claire. Your fathe
e. The paper was thick, exp
EEMENT AND A
e us. You've spent ten years trying to destr
s will is clear. I won't get the CEO position until I'm married. The St. Claire name is the
mo
lf a year. He would pay the debt, keep the
whispered. "That's not a marri
whatever
old pen that shin
now. Your father won't survive a cell.
ctly where
brushed his, and I shudde
ign
ooked like a ho
aid, dropping the pen. "
slowly. He took
became
tled," he said.
nbuttoned h
If anyone sees us, they have to see a
drained fr
ause. I am not s
ped closer
body," he whispered. "But you are collate
the tracker
oses at ten. From the outside
him, my he
ng me up? Lik
ent," he replied. "Get use
d around
the gold ban
n't je
s a c
floor, the ruined dress
I let the fir

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