His Accidental Cure: The Runaway Contract Wife

oken glass a chilling counterpoint to the terrified silence. His cold, merc

eyes foun

hand pressed to her back in a gesture of pu

erature plummeted. The casual arrogance on his fa

d forward. "Mr. Winters," he stammered, "what a

and kicked the heavy marble coffee table. It flipped over,

like squeal, and collapsed to the f

in terror, huddling togeth

ng man on the floor and knelt b

here to punish her for last night, for the contract, fo

Devaughn. His expression hardened. He reached out again, his mov

nd clean. Her mind, in a flash of horrified clarity, c

d lines of his face, the intense darkness of his eyes

he realization sent a trem

of pain. He looked over his shoulder at the pathetic,

ecute plan 'Vulture' against Nash Industries. I want their c

efficient. "Understood, sir. The team is moving. The fi

text from his CFO, the preview clearly visible on the shattered screen: Winters G

ne leaving no room for negotiation, "Nash Industries is eff

he floor, weeping, and grabbed the cuff of Devau

rd and kicked Joel away, pinning him t

g to make herself invisible. "The drug you used la

eed the exact compound," Devaughn said, his eyes devoid of mercy. "I just need you to feel a fraction of her helplessness

. She began to writhe on the floor, screaming at unse

wift, brutal retribution. This was the cold,

ugged off his own expensive suit jacket and

weighed nothing and stro

her voice weak. "We signed

man in his arms, a dangerous, possessive s

r meant only for her. "I tore up the papers.

is waiting Maybach. He slid in beside her, and the h