Addicted To The Ruthless Surgeon Heiress

sted slider and yanked it hard. The teeth gave way, but the jagged metal slic

e just wiped the blood on her faded jeans,

pped into the cramped space, scattering the few papers on the counter. Marge Kowalski stood in the

e canvas bag, her bloodshot eyes narrowing. "You think

oid of any emotion. It was the kind of stare

The look in the girl's eyes was wrong, It was dead. Marge hated that look, it made her feel

cise. Marge's hand sailed past her ear, the momentum throwing the older woma

ac

water from the leaky pipe sprayed out, soaking Marge's

reeched, trying to regain h

to the puddle, her cheap sneakers splashing the dirty water onto Marge's leg

ie said, her voice raspy and cold. "This tr

h. "You're not just a piece of trash, you're

thin jacket in seconds. She didn't look back. She walked past the rusted cars and broken l

ct spot. No came

ut through the darkness. A black SUV with New York plates was speeding down the flooded road. It slammed

frantically checking the GPS on his phone. He looked up, the windshield wipers clearin

otoriously reclusive and never showed their face.

The passenger door popped open

er that wafted out. This wasn't a random ride. But the sound of sirens wailed in the distance. The cops

t and slid into the passenger seat. She pu

was The Surgeon's arrogance. He slammed his foot o

dows of the gas station, waving his arms frantically. He was shouting

e frantic man in the raincoat standing in the downp