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