Bound To The Devil From My Past

Chapter 3

Word Count: 770 | Released on: Today at 14:39

was thick, suffocating. Ashlie sat rigidly in the back seat, Keenen a warm, unsettling we

. He was studying her like a bug under

rms. "I'm hungry," he m

hing about kids, let alone this kid. She loo

ank. He didn't move, didn't spea

clutch, her fingers clumsy. She dug past her phone and wallet,

oy. "Do you... do y

head, his lower

frustration. She was

fluent French. It wasn't a casual chat; it was a barrage of business terms, sharp commands, and clipped tones. He was c

like another wall, a reminder of the vast, unbridgeable gap between

focus was absolute, his gaze directed out the fron

ow quietly tracing the patterns on h

pered, leaning close so only

he whisp

up at her, his big eyes uncertain. An innocent comment slippe

froze

kly at Ellsworth, who was still deep in his call,

she repeated, her v

said, nodding.

hell. She was the... aunt? The knot in her stomach loosened just a fraction. It was still a forced marriage,

she asked, the words tastin

med. He shook his head slowly. "I don't know.

his child had a story,

nto Marshall f

through the hum of the French conversation.

her mind was spinning. If this was just about revenge, why involve the boy?

curb in front of a brick building

around. "Your first task is to take care of him for the r

door. The noise and smell of the city rushed in, a

he car pulled away the second her feet hit

barely knew, staring up at the sanctuary of her studio. It felt

s a nanny f

Chapter End

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Bound To The Devil From My Past

Jill Frevert Romance

“To save my family's dying company, I was forced to marry a billionaire I hadn't seen in fourteen years. But right outside the City Clerk's office, he tossed our marriage certificate at me like a cheap receipt and shoved a four-year-old boy into my arms. "Your new life has begun. You're on babysitting duty now." He sneered and left me stranded on the sidewalk. I realized with absolute horror that my new husband was Ellsworth Marshall, the sickly boy I had relentlessly bullied in middle school. He didn't spend five billion dollars to save the Bradford family. He bought me to execute a slow, suffocating revenge. He used his orphaned nephew as a pawn, explicitly threatening my father that if I failed to play the perfect, compliant nanny, he would instantly destroy our family's legacy. He even had his guards lock me out of his Long Island estate on my first night, forcing me to stand in the cold dark just to prove he owned me. I was trapped in a gilded cage, suffocated by the guilt of my past and the terror of my present. Why did he involve an innocent child in his twisted vendetta? How much humiliation was enough to pay for my childhood cruelty? Looking at the terrified little boy clinging to my skirt, I tightened my grip on my suitcase. If he wanted to destroy my will piece by piece, I had to find a way to survive the monster I created.”