Bound To The Disabled Apocalyptic Tycoon

eyes snap

sh, ragged sound, as her hands instinctively flew to her throat. Her fingers dug into her own skin, frantical

se. Just the smooth, unblemished skin of her neck and

glass coffee table, the sharp smack vibrati

," Brend

nst her ribs, a frantic, somatic rhythm that told her she was alive. She dragged her gaze away fr

movements. "You will marry the Ramsey heir. The family needs this capital injection, Je

ality of the moment. She was back. Back in the Manhattan penthouse. Back t

eyes with a tissue. "Mom, Dad, please," Harley choked out, her voice trembling with prac

s, sweetheart. You are a delicate girl. Jessie grew up in Pennsylvania, shoveling dir

o a cold, heavy beat. She looked at the three of them. Her blood relatives. The same people who, three ye

into the plush Persian rug, th

near his phone. He thought she was going to scream. He thought s

the heavy Montblanc pen

led the

gleaming with a sick, hidden anticipation. She wanted Jessie to

the last page of the contract, pressed

Scratch

ightly into the thick parchment

ying in her throat. She stared at the s

rom the window, his brow f

up. Her hands froze on her ruined si

the glass table. The metal clatt

any human warmth. "Now, since I'm saving this

ng into a sneer. "I knew it. You're just a greed

out my inheritance rights. Every single share, every trust fund ti

u are an idiot. You're giving up billions in

cern. "Jessie, don't be impulsive. The inheritance is yours by

. "Really, Harley? Do you want me to keep it? Because

drained from her face, and she looked u

that!" Brenda shrieked, shielding Harley a

creaming like a scalpel. "Get them here now to draft the buyout agreement.

Ramsey money was the only thing keeping the Aguila

rd the guest hallway. Her posture was rigid, her steps measured. She felt n

their sight, Jessie stopped. She pressed two

irthmark, with lines that almost looked like mic

of relief washed over her. The Pers