No Heir For The Cheating Billionaire

orm she was bringing inside. Rain slicked the marble floors of the Tribeca lobby, and she shrugged the d

the concierge. His job was to know every face, and hers was not

. Her fingers, cold and numb, dug into the depths of her Hermès bag until they closed around the cool, sharp edges of a black key ca

An agonizing second passed. Then, a small green light blinked, a

ed the button for

t of dread tightening in her gut. The feeling was so intense i

i

d the silence was absolute. Her footsteps were swallowed by the plush car

she sme

el N

air like a declaration. Her fingers, reaching for the keypad, froze

h and typed in Clevela

flashed. A

of blood a sharp sting on her tongue. Of course.

A birthday she'd seen splashed across the gossip pages a

ic

gaged. The lig

or was

's other life. Across the living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the gl

d to the floor

studded with crystals, were kicked

cket was tossed over the arm of the sofa. She recognized the fabric, the cu

hroaty-slithered through the air. It felt like a physical bl

She moved toward the master bedroom door, which was sl

e warm glow of a bedside lamp. Tw

of him. He was leaning over someone, his head bent

aded through his dark hair, her voice a

, so powerful she had to brace herself against the wall.

Not

palm. Harder. The sharp, grounding pain cut through the nausea. It

humb pressing down hard on the screen. She hit record to capture the unmistakable, breathy sounds of Seraphina moaning his name, intertwined with his low, husky responses. Then, stepping back quietly toward the entryway, her ey

n't make a sound as she backed away, turning and wa

sheets, plastering her hair to her face. But s

g through her contacts until she found the number

d on the f

otion. "I need you to do something for me immediately. Shut it

ll to her side. The party Cleveland was hosting for his partners t