Whispers Of The Billionaire's Secrets

step a rhythmic drumbeat of anxiety. Her fingers curled tightly around the handle of her purse, knuckles pale,

e private elevator, her lips painted a shade too red, her exp

the air is thinner, and th

ight, dressed in a black pencil skirt and a silky blouse that clung to her like armor. Her long chestnut hair was pulled into a

s and silence. At the far end, massive glass doors stood ajar, revealing the e

wa

wa

arved out of steel and ambition. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Manhattan skyline l

c Blac

ht away. No, that wou

nd finally raised his eyes. Eyes the color o

and smooth, but edged with some

nctuality was

. "It is. But eagernes

areful not to flinch.

brow twitch.

him, and she sat, crossing one l

, glancing down at the paper in fron

you hire on, M

again. This t

nct,"

Blackwood wasn't just a billionaire. He was a strategist

thing else. His questions were

greatest weakn

blink. "Los

hy

pens when you give someone

lingered on her for just a second too

allenged. And yet, he look

e someone who follo

ones that

she expected. More imposing. But there was something else-

hired,"

like

ned. "No probation?

"I already know ev

omach

start to

pockets, staring out at the glittering

aid. "You

r

lt it. But she coul

rising to her feet. "

her, expressi

ust

. "That's n

aid, voice dark

behind her wit

lackwood's world, her pul

d a ne

new

didn't k