My Coldhearted Ex-Husband Demands A Remarriage

Chapter 4

Word Count: 645 | Released on: Today at 10:13

ll away. He did

ark chuckle vibra

s, grabbed her by the waist,

gging on the floorboards as Doyle

. With a rough but strangely calculated movement

clutching his blanke

run to the bed, but Doyle caught her by the hips

e frame ca

refinger gripping her chin, forcing her

shot with a jealousy he refused to name. "Who

shining with defiant tears. "He is

ed like a mat

d of Doyle's c

sound and crashed hi

aiming. His teeth scraped against her bottom lip, forcing her mouth o

hammering them against his solid chest

spine, gripping her hips and pulli

cent of his cologne-it all triggered a violent

r lungs. She co

nee up, aiming stra

g her knee with his thigh, and kicked her legs apart, steppi

ond, his tongue sweeping along her lower l

ot tear escaped, tracking down her cheek

e fr

st heaving. He looked at the tea

His eyes darkened again. He reached down

ons popping off and scattering across the wooden floor. His cold f

ting. Her body wen

im and let out a c

moving. He frowned,

"The great CEO of Morgan Group, forcing himself on his ex-wife in a

f Taryn, Doyle's

s moved up, wrapping loosely around her slender throat.

disgust. "At least Taryn is honest about what she wants. You

ike a scalpel, but she kept her chin hig

Chapter End

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My Coldhearted Ex-Husband Demands A Remarriage

Souza Souza Billionaires

“Erika was a disgraced ex-wife, struggling to survive in a freezing Brooklyn slum to raise her five-year-old son. But her billionaire ex-husband, Doyle Morgan, wasn't done destroying her. He orchestrated a cruel trap, forcing her to deliver a custom sapphire brooch to his new mistress, just to watch her get humiliated and severely burned by scalding coffee. When Erika fought back and refused to beg, Doyle's punishment was swift. He demoted her to scrubbing executive toilets with raw, bleeding hands. Starved, exhausted, and pushed to the absolute brink of organ failure, she finally collapsed lifelessly in front of him in Central Park. For five years, she had endured his relentless torment and the world's mockery just to keep her child safe. Doyle despised her, convinced her son was the filthy proof of her cheating with another man. He didn't know the boy was actually the child of his deceased older brother, conceived in a dark, drugged hotel room. Why couldn't he just leave them alone to suffer in peace? But when Erika woke up in the VIP hospital ward, the nightmare took a terrifying turn. Doyle pinned her weak wrists to the mattress, his eyes burning with a dark, possessive obsession. He had figured out the truth about the boy's bloodline. "He's a Morgan. He has my family's blood in his veins, and I will not allow my nephew to be raised in a slum. If you can't care for him, I will. From this moment on, you and that boy belong to me. And you are never leaving my sight again."”