Begging My Billionaire Ex-Wife for a Second Chance

the hot shower and was drying off wh

yone, and particularly not this early. A tight coil of dread developed in his stomach as he went toward the door,

ock. Stron

et h

ere sh

hugged her hips. Her black hair fell over her shoulders, and her hazel eyes glinted with something he co

usement flickering in her

of the door, attempting to ignore the heat creepi

l of warm vanilla and something sharper followed her as she mov

she continued, casually, as if she ha

meone hunting for weaknesses. She halted at his glass shelf, brushing her fingers a

he echoed, holdin

her arms under her breasts, which just pushed them higher,

rp as a sword. "A new project you're pitching next week

e here to discuss a pitch?

. "You're on my t

owing hard as her eyes travelled over him again. The silence stretched, the onl

othing before he lost whatever was left

d me," she whi

her watching him, gaze unflinching,

a green light? Was she playing with him? The way her eyes lingered on his skin made

behind him, leaning his back against it as he exhaled deeply. His hea

*

r Tha

the way she had stared at him, the unspoken tension sizzling between them. It was dangerous, the way his body st

t her. But as the dusk light softened over Manhattan, painting the s

8 PM. We need to discuss

message for a long period, confus

, to regain control of whatever

the feel of her skin, the taste of her kis

high above the city, the lights of Manhattan glittering below. He

breath

ight of the chandelier, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her breas

her lips twisting into a faint,

to leave her, every sensible thought melting

her hips swaying as she walked into the bathroom, her bare fee

nd her, leaving him standing there, bewilder

*

Por

appeared. He strolled into the living room, eyes searching the place, taking in

ed on a photograph

fro

e, with wavy brown hair and brilliant hazel-blue ey

s heart

ey

se

wer

spect of the boy's face, the small dimple on the left cheek, the way

crashed

h he had thrust into her hands, urging her to take care of it. The coldness in her eyes

ing against the edge of the frame

d it

e had aborted the child. Sh

ngster in t

of the sho

athroom, a white towel wrapped around her body, water shimm

then back to him, her express

questioned, her voice st

ed hard. "

gaze narrowing. "That's

enn

leaming with rage. "I said it's

ists, his heart h

st the right to ask me anything the day you ha

ries piercing through him li

id, her voice w

r eyes for something, anything

he saw w

teps echoing in the still apartment as he

*

towel pulled firmly around her as she pee

the couch, sliding onto it, burying her face

to rise from the ashes he had left her in. She had constructed a world wher

eeing the confusion, the hope, and the remorse

d to her mouth, swa

ade her d

im a life, to protect him from the gu

go back, just for a moment, to the days when she

lf to rise, to breathe, and to bec

Raymond Carter b

not let hi

im destroy the new

t let hersel