Bound By The CEO's Cruel Contract

The morning shift security guard nodded at her. She arranged her face int

ng, Ms

ng, Ma

a soft pneumatic hiss. The moment she was alone, her shoulders dropped. Her spine curved. Sh

ure change pressed against her eardrums, her sinuses,

xty-eigh

and her gaze fixed on the horizon line of windows at the far end. The women's restroom was

ast stall before her

yesterday, before the gala, before the hotel, before everything. Acid burned her throat. Her abdominal muscles sei

her face. She didn't

rtition. Her forehead rested against the cool metal. She close

ree months to buy the thrift-store dress, to get her hair done at the mall s

waist. Ashton's lip gloss shining under the string lights. The way they'd looked

ked. Her voice was honey and arsenic. "A charity case

ire's chest and splashed up onto her chin, her throat, soaking throu

d," Ashton had whispered

own sweat. She fumbled for her phone, her fingers clumsy. The screen lit up. One mi

e sound cracked

up and her heart hammering so hard she thought she'd pass out. She'd reached for his tie with hand

erneath the mascara, the inexperience beneath the red lipstick. His eyes-God, his eyes-like b

hunting him. She'd tho

t her mouth and tasted salt. S

heels. Someone tried the bathroo

e water until it was ice cold, then splashed it against her cheeks, her neck, the holl

en specifically because it made her look like she ate m

in place when she

pressed to his ear. When he saw her, his face went through three expressi

already here. He's been here since seven. He's tearing through the

from him. Her fingers didn't

king for you specifically. He threw his coffe

ne hard squeeze, then n

e doors to Ellsworth Mosley's office. They looked like the gat

steady when