Too Late, Mr. Maxwell: The Cost of Betrayal

a physical weight,

a cold, hard fur

stable? He woul

ing his public image as th

I knew he' d let me keep, a tiny seed of his true loyalty I hadn't understood until now. Or

father' s man. T

a number I had memorized years

nd, a place my father' s connections had secured for

hispered. "I need to accept

efficient. "It will be ready for you,

"I need a flight b

der it

p. One tiny a

uch, but it

not be h

not be

his, and then I w

was in control, t

idea what

of my weakness,

his bigge

ack to our penthou

ll, was there, perched on

er, the mistress, was right b

ping with false sympathy that didn't reach h

s flicking over me wit

ooed, placing a perfectly manicured han

eak protest, "

of something ugly in them. He enjoy

law launched

d. Old and dusty, more like. No connections that matter anymore. C

slightly, the world a

ome, and I wa

They were already c