al building and into the relentles
ing it to her skin. The burn on her han
hrough the bustling city, before her body f
ice a hoarse whisper. It was a high-end private
ed her head against the cool glass, fighti
e serene, manicured entrance. She paid the drive
shed to her side. "Mrs. Webb! You're
. "Forgot my umbrell
table. She's resting n
aceful, sleeping face of the only family she had left was a balm to her r
arterly fees were due, a staggering sum that Jordon paid without qu
the emergency entrance burst open. A
ck, hiding herself behind a la
art st
ing down the corridor, his
ms, he was ca
rembling. But Ciara didn't need to see her face. She
vintage Cart
lare-up, a damsel in perpetual distress. Her assista
voice was a sharp, commanding bark, la
ess than fifteen feet away, as her h
e final, fatal blow. It was the look she had craved, th
igence Jasmine carried, a vital link to a cr
n desperately in lov
f hope inside her
nds clamped over her mouth to keep a sob from es
? A pawn. A bargaining chip. An heir to be seized an
o
ed in her bones. She had to prot
he turned and walked silently out a side
thumb moved with cold precisio
she blocked his assistant,
ck to the city. Her spine was straight, her
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