ent, sideways sheets, turning the eveni
ivering in her black business suit. The fabric w
visiting the top three divorc
e look at the name "Axel Farrell" on her i
one vibrated
s email from Jared
It was a high-
just visited, standing on a private golf course in
t. Axel was showing her that sh
ugh. She deleted the email and
red through the rain
rground speakeasy. The kind of place whe
t, ignoring the water
he system registered her instantly. Her access wasn't tied to the Farrell Group, but to an old, ironclad PR contract she'd pers
heavily of aged cigar smoke and expensive
st, darkest corner of the
ender, wrapping her numb fingers around the gl
waterproof bag and opened the dos
eded a
press against the side of her face.
d her head
r right, cloaked in de
buttons undone. His long, scarred fingers were slowly,
on his wrist. A Richard Mille
ve time for arrogant billionaires looking f
d tapped a leather checkbook
ollar minimum spend," the bartender said
ecks, but she only had about four hundred dollars
la said, reachi
a solid black Centurion card slid across t
breath
ing right next to her. He moved with the te
bled. It was deep, gravelly, an
nsing defensively. "I don't need
lightly. The dim ligh
arble. Pale, sharp jawline, and a faint, ja
is dark, dangerous eyes dropped to
ancial acquisition bluepr
pulled at the corne
oice sending a shiver down Ayla's spine. "But
gainst her ribs. She s
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