The Masked Heiress: Taming The Cold Tycoon

ressing suite lay a scen

ubusson carpet; handcrafted hangers littered mahogany

stian Louboutin heels. She held aloft the priceless champagne‑toned silk‑tulle haute‑couture gown - the

snapped toward her terrified stylist. "Jennie is a starving

g around his silver cane. "That gown was hand‑stitched exclusively for

cking its casing. "Know your place, you decrepit old servant! My brother practically owns this rotti

ta...

shallow, face drained of all color, horror fil

ceps in sneering amusement. "Well look who finally dragged herself out o

from Jennie, sharp index‑finger j

an replace you with a snap of his fingers. Have you read this morning's news? He already found a Colum

, spine slamming against door‑frame. She clutche

, utter despair written across her features. "Only spare this champagne gown. Father spent

us a senile old man!" Donita snarled. She seized the d

rr

shoulder seam, exposing hand‑

sterpiece onto floor and ground her shoe across its he

ing hands over torn fabric as if tending a wounded

ating thud of reinforced hinges, followed by synchronized c

ward hallway. "Miss Cannon... somebod

ined supremacy, Donita snatched a half‑full iced‑tea glass off vanity and ma

ed in he

‑story rotunda turne

ng light stood eight black‑suited tactical security operatives,

ath main chandel

to slice glass. Rimless gold spectacles caught cold sunlight obscuring his eyes, yet terri

portfolio, gazing upon Donita with

slipped out o

as

tins. Her knees turned to water. Within insulated New‑York‑wealth circles B

opping three octaves, arrogance melting into

ing his head, deep‑grey eyes locked

aritone bounced off marble walls, c

buttal, a soft broken sound echoed from

e gown pressed tight to her chest. Her ivory sweater sat askew,

sobbed, voice tremblin

de foyer plummet

tered ripped silk, bruised collarbone and utter devastation upon her fa

rand spiral marble staircase, l

nocking over bronze Roman‑senator bust. "Mr. Sears wait! It was not

ost. His overcoat brushed against her dress,

paces in fro

hard dangerous line, Antone's deep voice carrie

ndkerchief I gav

g neatly folded charcoal‑bordered silk square. "Here

fingers firmly closing around her

te gesture, her face turning chalk‑whit

n. She enjoyed personal prote