The Billionaire's Captive Bride

ed with

r. Locked. Qui

ispered Damien's rules, the things he

s, according to the assistant who spoke more like a soldier tha

red that he

t, silence mea

footfalls. And now, Damien's study sat open and u

ipped

precise, masculine, cold. A heavy mahogany desk dominated the center, and the wall behind

are feet silent against

was in the

ys l

ot to

left it pa

... in

dn't h

slid it ope

fr

there we

er album with frayed edges. All of them black-and-wh

st every si

gi

yes. A soft, quiet smile. Pretty in the way Isla us

fingers go cold was

t she looked almost

me full lips. Same shape

t like looking at a

e could h

ght stil

d the album

the sa

piano. Reading a

ven torn. A few were marked with dates in Damien's handwritin

Le

me was

rner of the photo w

was

mien keep

he look l

hear the

t the shift

erature

n her neck

ce, low and dang

you doin

traightening. She didn't

know," she

w wh

she

pa

ay. He didn't speak. But somethin

sla said, holding up th

, the door clicki

t to touch any

t locked

ould'v

sion, but it was unread

as

to s

asked again. "Your

le

th

Damien said. "

breath

the photo from her hand, a

e d

weight. Not spoken w

ow

lace. Wr

sn't an

. "Held for ransom. They knew who I was. T

wisted. "Wh

her back

ees nearl

ver found w

d, voice quiet as a tomb. "And

m buzzed with somet

ed," Isla said, voice

said. "No

what now? You collect

didn't buy you becaus

en

locked

d like someone who

k. "You think t

w what

?" Her voice rose. "What

pping closer. "And yo

lappe

d , sharp acr

aw tight, but he d

ere, skin flushe

ispered, eyes burning.

t blink.

like a shadow you're

m n

at are y

grabbed her wrist-not rough, but firm. L

to see if yo

r arm away. "

her a da

ld you the

-

before she could c

bed, and stared at the ceiling while her

ht she was ju

she re

a repl

apon forged in an