Trapped In The Reborn Billionaire's Embrace

Dalton's eyes snapped open.

His lungs heaved, pulling in jagged breaths of air as if he had just broken the surface of freezing water. Cold sweat soaked through the fabric of his custom-tailored shirt, clinging to his skin like a second layer of dread.

He stared at the ceiling. The dim glow of the wall sconces illuminated the opulent molding of the Four Seasons penthouse. A violent wave of vertigo hit him, making the room spin.

He looked down at his hands.

He turned them over, his chest rising and falling in erratic rhythms. The skin was smooth. The jagged, ugly scars from the car crash that had ended his life were gone. His muscles pulled tight, trembling so hard his knuckles turned white.

His gaze darted to the nightstand. The illuminated dial of his Patek Philippe watch glared back at him.

The date.

His pupils contracted into tiny pinpricks. The numbers on the dial hit him harder than a physical blow. He was back. Three years ago. The exact night the nightmare began. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, deafening rhythm in his ears.

A soft, suppressed whimper broke the dead silence of the room.

It came from the other side of the massive king-sized bed.

Dalton's neck turned, the movement stiff and mechanical. His eyes pierced through the shadows, landing on the curled-up silhouette.

Audriana Christensen.

Her face was flushed a deep, unnatural red. Her hands moved blindly, her fingers tearing at the collar of her blouse with uncoordinated, feverish tugs. The heavy dose of the drug was tearing through her system.

The image of her lifeless, broken body from his past life flashed behind his eyes. A sharp, physical pain sliced through his chest. His eyes instantly burned red.

He threw the heavy duvet aside. He stepped off the bed, his bare feet hitting the freezing carpet. The icy shock grounded him, keeping his fractured mind from completely shattering.

He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at her. His right hand reached out, hovering just inches above her burning skin.

His hand shook violently.

He was terrified. In his past life, his touch had destroyed her. He clamped his jaw shut, the muscles in his face pulling taut as he forced his hand to pull back.

Audriana groaned, the high fever making her thrash. She rolled hard toward the edge, her body slipping dangerously close to the drop.

Dalton moved on pure instinct. He lunged forward, his broad chest catching her scorching body before she could fall.

The scent of vanilla hit him.

It rushed into his lungs, familiar and intoxicating. Dalton's Adam's apple bobbed sharply. A heavy, dark possessiveness clawed at his stomach-a desperate need to lock her away from the world that had destroyed her.

He gritted his teeth, fighting the overwhelming urge to crush her against him and never let go. His movements were stiff, almost clumsy, as he gently lifted her and placed her back into the center of the mattress.

Audriana's hands flailed in the air. Her fingernails caught the side of his neck, dragging down and leaving a thin trail of blood.

Dalton didn't even flinch. The sting meant nothing. He turned on his heel and strode toward the walk-in closet, his steps heavy and urgent.

He grabbed a dark, custom cashmere coat off the hanger. The fabric carried his signature scent-crisp cedar and cold air. He walked back to the bed.

He wrapped the oversized coat tightly around her disheveled body, pulling the lapels closed to cover every inch of her exposed skin.

The heavy warmth of the coat seemed to soothe her. Audriana quieted down slightly, though her eyebrows remained pulled together in a tight knot of pain.

Dalton sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out, his rough thumb lightly brushing against the crease between her brows, trying to smooth away her distress.

A sound stopped him.

Faint, muffled footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the penthouse door.

The tenderness in Dalton's eyes vanished. It was replaced by a cold, hollow darkness. His heart hammered against his ribs. The memory of the trap set for her-the nightmare that had shattered her completely-flashed vividly behind his eyes.

Chadwick Kowalski was out there. He had brought the paparazzi. The trap was set.

Dalton stood up. With a swift, decisive movement, he fastened the top button of his shirt, his expression hardening into a mask of cold fury.

He walked over to the smart control panel on the wall. His finger tapped the glass screen.

The main chandelier flared to life, flooding the room with blinding light. Audriana whimpered on the bed, turning her face away from the glare.

Dalton walked to the heavy mahogany double doors. He leaned in, pressing his eye to the peephole. He watched the shadows moving outside.

Dalton could hear the faint sound of someone rattling the heavy door from the other side, throwing their weight against the wood, trying to force it open.

A cruel, bloodless smile curved the corners of Dalton's mouth.