The Billionaire’s Contract: Revenge On My Ex
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en waiting for two hours, based on a tip from a paparazzi forum she monitored. Isham Rhodes was scheduled for a meeting with the City Clerk at 9:
door to the penthouse open, her movements automatic, her mind still lingering on the photoshoot that had been cancelled only twenty
faintly of lemon polish and something else-something sweeter, cloying. Her eye
vy blue silk. Ha
e. A red-soled stiletto
chest. She recognized that shoe. She had bought the pair last week as a birthday gift for Brandy C
ing over the discarded red Valentino dress that lay in a heap near the entrance to the living room. The silence
as ajar. J
a frantic, irregular rhythm that made her fingertips numb. She didn't want to look. Every instinct in
one through the c
there, tangled in the sheets of the bed Hester had picked out six months ago. Brandy was beneath him,
hed, her voice thick.
e buried in Brandy's neck. "She's yest
one back, her hand shaking so violently she almost dropped it. The nausea was overwhelming now, acid rising
around and
cold metal wall, gasping for air, her lungs refusing to expand. She unlocked her phone again,
fied. The sc
ce: $
reshed the page. Joint Account - Mck
just cheated on her; he had liquidated her. Every check from her last three campaigns, every residual, ev
lked onto the street, the New York noise assaulting her senses. Taxis honked, tourists shouted, sirens wail
was truly hers. It wouldn't be much, but it would be a start. A twenty-minute walk to a dingy pawn shop on a
mb hovering over the news feed. A headlin
ces board pressure: Marry by 30 or fo
jaw, a reputation for being a ruthless machine in a human suit. He n
ne. It was
re and Worth," she told the driver, naming the intersection nearest City H
he curb, splashing dirty water onto the sidewalk. The doors
made the air around him feel charged. He wore a charcoal suit that probably cost more than Hester's parents' ho
e, Silas," Isham was saying, his voice a deep baritone tha
window. She l
ot out, grabbing her
dn't look at the guard. She
renaline flooding her veins. "I hear you need a wife to secur
He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over her-wet hair, pale fac
asked, his tone
dn't say Hester the Victim. "I need protection. You need a puppet
t. He seemed to be calculating, analyzing the variables. He looked at her wet c
hree minutes to convince me why I shoul
ic image that can be molded to whatever suits your narrative. I require zero emotional labor from you. I
t a smile. It was a reaction to
ing with the hei
ped his ph
at Hester. "Do y
from her pocket. Her hands were sh
h me," Is
erk behind the counter looked from Isham's bespoke suit to Hester's damp coat, his
ings. Just the scratch of a pen on paper, bindin
into the rain. The
jacket pocket and pulled out a black card
th. "Make it convincing. And move into the Upper Ea
He got into the car, the door s
r hand. The rain was still falling, but she couldn't feel the