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The Billionaire's Obsession: He Won't Let Her Marry His Uncle
Author: PageProfit Studio Genre: BillionairesThe Billionaire's Obsession: He Won't Let Her Marry His Uncle
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We're talking five million jus
ed for the sheer black dress-the one with barely-there straps, a nec
r of how much she needed to be
e had no choice
r shame-her dad's medic
tely smiled, whispering, "Don't worry, I'll ke
gh and shook her head. "We're
ore through every boundary of r
ad to do-it was knowing she'd never look
t Owen a breakup message, and s
logetically extravagant-glass, marble, c
is back to her, staring out the t
id no
voice flat,
g straight to it, or
ng p
int rustle
sto
e marble floor. As he neared, a subtle sce
ht her chin, tilting it
eath c
eyes
rything
lammed agai
the words barely more than a w
--
ough her mind, racing back nin
saying with gratitude, "Thank you, sir and ma'am, for giving Elliot the chanc
saying, "Elliot, this is Miss Charisse I told you a
Charisse with entitled pride, Elli
once held was gone. He stood above her now
t Davis? What the hell
ck, Elliot Grant lo
with mockery. "Wow, Miss Walton, I almost didn't recogn
"And what about the guy hiring prosti
f her neck. With one swift push, he pulled the
ss Walton, when you dumped me like I was disposable, did
tight line. "That was years a
all
. Lost almost a year's worth of memor
rless. "And that's the best excuse you
denly freezing. "Or did you just think I'd sti
r lied
u don't remember it, that
words Charisse had thrown at him w
accident-unconscious, hooked up to machines,
ing, still calling h
d
even pick u
someone else with a one-lin
r friends, drinking champagne by the ocean w
ed if he made
at could be solved with money-and forg
it matters? Like her coldness
o the sofa. His eyes had gone stone-cold. "Since you don't r
chin, calm and com
bottom. If they were talking hist
I hope Miss Walton lives u
u're being so generous, Mr. Grant. I'l
'd known who she was all along
se
humilia
make
beside him, taking a steady
out to meet, Elliot turned his
fr
The message hit like
e. Some men don't k
m, is too perso
rls li
't get i
t instr
ips together, bitterne
as no different from those wo
Dispo
the silence-she'd u
ut when her hand reached for him, hi
h," he said, vo
sed, then no
r sheer dress pooling around her as it slipped from her
Beneath her fingertips, it stirred and grew, its form defined and urgent. A
r. But back then, when he'd laid his whole heart out for her and she
gulfing her. Though hatred scalded his he
back up and sprang at him
more like a bite, wild
eye, that smile twisted and defiant. "If you're gon