Fleeing From My Possessive Billionaire Ex

lungs. She manufactured a smile for Mrs. Davies, a b

an early meeting at the

or, her movements stiff. Each s

damp, likely from a shower he'd taken while she was asleep. He was on his phone, speaking to an assistant about an overseas acqui

s a fresh stab

you," he said, not looki

Her hand was on the doorknob, t

oked at her. His expression was neutral, as if he were

aid, his tone purely tra

the door. It was the coldest, most insulting thing he could

back to fac

can't afford, Julian. J

t was clean and sharp,

with ice. "It won't happen again. We will have no

stepped into the hallway, letting the heavy door click shu

hed bronze doors-her makeup smudged, her hair a mess, his scent still clinging to he

nt, she tore off the dress and threw it in the trash. The

until it was red and raw. She wanted to erase his touch, his scent, the memory of his b

ped a towel around herself and wiped

n she s

larbone, partially hidden by the towel. Hickeys. Marks

her fist against the marble countertop, the sharp pain a

a night; he had marked it. He ha

a consultation, a full day of being D

d out a thin, cashmere turtleneck. In the middle of a warm New York spring

forced her mind to focus on medical charts, on patient histories,

side entrance, changed into her scrubs,

e of the surgical ward, caugh

ight?" Linda's eyes were kind,

omnia," Chloe lied

ed like ash

red aortic aneurysm. A fifty-year-old man, cras

ctly what

cal lights, Chloe was transformed. The hesitant, shamed wom

, her instructions

alp

cti

ight he

Chloe's eyes, visible over her mask, flicked to him. The look was so cold, so

air crackled with her tension. She wasn't jus

t of reclamation. She was channeling the chaos of her personal

rge. Here, she could

in, tight line. Under the blue scrubs and the high-collared shirt, Julian's mark

save this

o herself, that she was st