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m Italian leather sofa in the mas
. She scrolled through the PR itinerary for the Farrell Group's up
stinct, low growl of an Aston Martin eng
gine s
her laptop, setting it o
or. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her silk nig
doors to the be
g a rush of cold Califo
ed toward him, automatically reaching out to take his hau
settled into her han
able. A heavy blend of san
ainst the wool lapels. Her
ted, medical-grade skinca
. He leaned in and pressed a dry,
lifting a hand to rub
a nightmare," Axel muttered, his voice thick with
rming in her throat. She forced
he climate-controlled walk-in closet, care
the bedroom, Axel was stan
h a frustrated sigh and tossed i
buttoning his crisp white dress shirt, p
ers, dropping to the floor and expo
et, her eyes naturally falli
acted so fast it
eemed to vanish. Her
is left shoulder blade, were th
inflamed, the edges sli
fingernails. The downward angle and the sheer force of the cuts
ightly. He caught her s
ond, raw panic flashed
towel from the bench and wrapping it tigh
sauna at the club," Axel said. His voice
been on the cover of Time magazine, praised for ha
y turned over. Acid
am. She didn't
les in her face to stretch i
d, her voice sounding like it belonged
ing and walking i
sound of the rain showerhead tu
r hit the tiles, Ay
attress, her hands gripping the shee
rted to the
e sat face down on
e reached out and picked it up. Thed typed in the four-digit pass
side to side. P
her stomach, hitting her wit
ode that had been the same for three
throom masked the sound of Ay
arriage shattered into a mill
ed awake until 3 AM, drafting flawless PR press rel
ly erupted in her chest, ins
ing played
e nightstand, making sure it was in the e
her legs no
ahogany writing desk and
blank white stick
he phone number of a top-tier divorce
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