The Coldhearted Surgeon's Billionaire Revenge

real. Anya scrubbed her skin until it was pink, trying to wash a

her clothes she had packed: a pair of grey

in these clothe

ed musty. She n

he back patio. The ocean roared in the

d the side of

fr

were floor-to-ceiling glass. He had no curtains. He

rk, minimalist. White leather couches, abstrac

n was

oned halfway down his chest, sleeves rolled up to his e

tiger, full of restless energy. He ran

sto

ut the glass wall, d

of the overhang. She was

e stood in the same darkness she did, a silhouette against the lighted r

ne rang in

the screen.

yes locked on the man

el

s illegal,

imate, as if he were st

ishbowl, Julian. You're practi

a sip of his drink. She could imagine the mov

some air," Anya

"From Bentley. From the board. Fr

hiding fr

standby. We can draft the terms for the emergency board meeting now. Or

" she asked, repeating the

topped moving. He turned

ce dropping lower. "I want you

is leverage,

talking about leve

d. It was heavy, lad

that had nothing

, Julian,"

lied. "Bentley is weak, but he's not

hun

back inside his glass house. T

rring. Anya blinked, tryin

e dark, watching her. But

ng door. She pulled the curtains shut, overlappin

amiliar bed, stari

leve

echoed i