Bought By The Coldhearted Media Mogul

a vibrant, screaming crimson that seemed to pulse against the cracke

side the thin walls of the Brooklyn apartment, a siren wailed, growing louder and then fading, a Doppler

nd pulled it one notch too far. She closed the app, only to open it aga

phone v

ter" flashed

lled after 10 PM, it wasn't to ask how her day was. It was to ask for money she didn't have

g. Silence returned to t

later, it st

essed

nth

drum. It wasn't a word; it

er? W

ll me, Cinthia! Or call the cops! If the cops come, I

ing. A woman's high-pitched, hysterical shriekin

? That's a private club in M

the credit card! T

ne wen

. It was for medical emergencies for their younger brother, Casey. Not for whatever

ment. She grabbed her trench coat from the hook-the beige one with th

e nearly tripped over a bag of trash a neighbor had left out. The smell of rotti

if he went to jail, the debt collectors would turn their full attention to her and Aunt Linda.

was a miracle one stopped. She gave the

ter, the cab pull

nimal signage, a velvet rope that seemed t

haking as she handed over the cash.

man in a suit that cost more than her entire wardrobe. He cro

only," he

voice sounded thin, swallowed by the cit

t wasn't kindness. It was a smirk.

velvet rope. "Go on in. They're wait

t. She stepped past him, pushin

dry, conditioned chill. The smell of exhaust vanished, overtaken by the scent o

nd of shouting down

e double doors at

m was a dis

A glass coffee table lay in shards on the Persian rug. Am

re was

ttons missing. There were three long, red scratches runni

rap

terrifying way-blonde hair perfectly disheveled, a silver dress that clung to her like a se

s hands raised in surrender.

abbed a heavy crystal ashtray fr

by inches and smashed

r brain couldn't process the vio

she sa

om, seated in a high-backed

sobbing. He held a tumbler of whiskey in one hand, resting it casually on the arm of the chair. H

n Cle

eart slammed against her ribs,

ss. The man whose face was on the cover of Forbes in the lobby o

oked

throwing furniture, Adrian Clemons looked like he

ed to Carter, dropping to her knees besid

red, grabbing his ar

and, his grip painful. "Tell th

e marched over, her heels stabbing i

l are you?"

ance. "I'm his sister. Please, just te

a sharp, brittle sound. "Your trash

ice cracking. "You said you wanted to make him jeal

rd A

his involvement, A

ing his drink. H

swept over the room, cold and precise as a scalpel. They

t a pixel in the background of his empire. But the look he gave h

sound of the heavy crystal hitting the wood w

id. His voice was low, a baritone

ut from the shadows near the

nds and knees. "Mr. Clemons, please!

arter by the collar

Cinthia. "She set it up! My sister! She

at her brother, at the desperation twisting his features. He was sel

breathed, the wo

bed a silver ice bucket from th

the bucket

ned by years of stepping in between her a

to

r body in fr

tte's momentum did. Yvette crashed into

ck edge of the rug. She flailed,

fe

ard the

er. Toward the man who was watching them with the