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Get the APPToo Late For Regret: My Possessive Billionaire
Chapter 6
congee with her silver spoon. Su
pected it closely. She looked up at Alexzander, he
ly. "There is no shre
an't believe you still remember that I hate th
thermal container resting on the bedside t
operated on pure muscle memory. He had ordered it exactly the way Ciar
ing, touched face. He opene
in his throat. Explaining to a fragile patient that his mind was completely occupied by his wife felt too complicated, and unnecessarily cruel.
s a loud confirmation. Her
t his Patek Philippe watc
assive sofa, her right arm wrapped in thick white gauze, looking incre
ket from the back of the chair. "I have to go
trying to catch the fabric of his slee
out of the hospital room, his pace sig
d instantly. She slammed the silver spoon down into the porcelain
completely silent. The neon lights of Manhattan bled through the fl
y, clutching her cell phone to her
re Ciara sat staring into space. Pat
oungest daughter is running a dangerously high fe
the genuine terror in the mother's eyes. She nodded immediat
uarters to change. A minute later, the massive double doors of
tly swallowed by a suffocating silence. The low hu
rm throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. Every mo
t was parched. She reached for a heavy crystal glass with
heavy crystal plummete
. Shards of glass scattered everywhere, a
staring at the glittering ruins on the floor. The dam in
ropped and shattered in this cold,
he back of her left hand. She ref
ed toward the master bathroom. She felt covered in the sterile,
er. She needed to
room. She turned on the showerhead. The loud rush of warm
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