The Sick Tycoon's Unwanted Substitute Bride

of the women's rest

aintenance sign rattled against the frame. Her lungs burned, pu

, uneven, and accompanied by a wet, sticky l

ckering wall sconces, Kian Maddox swayed around the corner. Hi

e thick wool carpet, slowing her down. Panic squeezed her chest

he very end of the corridor, a set of double walnut doors st

he metal hand

shoved the door shut behind her. She threw the dead

ains were pulled tight, cutting off the neon gl

wood of the door. She gasped for air, try

broke th

e depths of the living room. It sounded painful

he stopped breathing. She pressed herself harder

oving on the sofa. A massive

urred his vision into a useless gray haze. His head throbbed with

. His voice was a low, v

sent

rop. She reached behind her back, her fingers blind

the lock, the massive

r. Frieda panicked. She thought he was trying to overpower her. She fought back with everything she had. Her hands

h out of her. They crashed o

gainst her neck. He was half-conscious, his hands blindly grasping, clam

aulted, so she became the aggressor. She shoved her knee up hard, striking his leg.

a fraction of a second, but her hands didn't stop. She pushed him back so violently that his head struck

elpless, sick man in a VIP suite. The realization hit her like a truck. She

the door right

Kian yelled from the ha

hands against the surface of a coffee table.

number in the dark. She shoved the crumpled napkin into his large, motionless h

opped by a startled waiter. Kian cursed and spun around to look at the commotion. In that