No More Submission: The Heiress Strikes Back

days

ve, underground private club in Manhattan. The lightin

idden beneath the counter. Operating through an encrypted VPN, she had just execute

doors of the club swung

air rushed in, followed i

ound her only because he had quietly bought a controlling stake in the club'

His heavy footsteps made the bartender

pulling out the high-top leathe

Instead, his eyes swept over her outfit. She wasn't wearing the soft, submissive pastel dresses

ase in his gut. He leaned his elbow on th

aid smoothly. "You've made you

liberate sip of her martini, staring straight ahead at the rows of l

neck bulge. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh, decidi

dripping with condescension. "The custom holiday gow

er breath to hitch. Wait

"She needs a statement piece for her debut. Yo

lips, waiting for the tears. Waiting for the

ng at the bottom of her glass. Her hear

"masterpiece" gown was a rejected sketch she had th

er eyes were filled with a profound, chilling pity, li

ed, her voice light and compl

couldn't process her absolute indifference. He convi

his suit and pulled out a leather c

the paper. He ripped the check out and slid it acros

rogant charity. "Since Conner cut you off, go buy yourself some off-the-

down at the p

e sound was bright and completely genuine,

tween her index and middle finger, lifting it up to t

swelling with the expectation

rmony flick

all, dirty plastic bucket on the counter-the bin the bartend

raped violently against the floorboards, the screech ec

to a lethal growl. "Do not push me, Harmony. Without my protection a

him, but the absolute lack of fear in her post

ead into his

voice dropping to a cold, surgical precision. "And

g from the counter, turning

hand around her wrist. His fingers dug into her skin

ed through his teeth. He yanked her a