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Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire

Chapter 2 The mysterious man

Word Count: 805    |    Released on: Today at 14:17

against the wet pavement. A massive, pure black Rolls-Royce

rolled down. A man in a

he wrong car to jump in front of,"

r passenger door and slammed her blood

ow slowly glide

rk eyes cold and predatory. He radiated a dangerous

s on her wrists, then shifted his

ordered. His voice was

seat. Her muddy clothes and bleeding skin ruined the pristine

ine, waving a metal pipe and a

not even blink. "Handle

bright red laser dot appeared dead center on the man's soaking wet shirt. The driver didn't say a word, his finger resting lightly on

pped dead in their tracks, cursed lou

rated smoothly, leavin

ng. She shivered uncontrollably, her teeth

It smelled of expensive cedar and faint c

her neck. "Thank you," she rasped, her

eyes tracked the bleeding scratch on her neck. He

apartment building. She did not call the polic

ford. Is my husban

ft an hour ago and has not

and handed t

is tone laced with mild curio

ust drop me off on the Up

rt, the blood, and the absolute ex

nhattan," he t

from the corner of her eye. He wore no n

d out a crystal glass. He poured amber liquid

k," h

y in one gulp. The liquid burned down her throa

entually bled through t

ey approached a block away

, he held out a matte black business card. It had no

e in danger again, call this," he

situation so perfectly. She took the card, gri

away, disappearing i

ing, avoiding the main lobby cameras. She took

code. The massive apar

out her passport and birth documents. She dragged a battered suit

ck on the front d

the foyer. Joaquin's voi

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Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
“When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married. His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope. But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search. "Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars."”