Divorcing My Cold And Possessive Tycoon

ith every breath. The silence amplified everything: the phantom pressure of Houston's fingers on her j

nother minute, she would splinter. He had taken enough

r head, and grabbed her designer purse. Inside, she tucked the prepaid burner phone she'

praying Houston hadn't already locked her inside. The doors slid op

into her path, arms crossed over his broad chest.

SoHo. And I absolutely d

rofessional mask slid back into place. He stepped aside. As Claire walked toward the exit, she

ckseat. In the side mirror: a black sedan tw

ushed inside, grabbed the cheapest prepaid burner phone from the rack, and paid with crumpled cash.

p to Riley's gallery. The one place in

the reception desk-bright pink hair, worn leather jacket, a smile that had pulled Clair

ushed around the desk and pulled Claire into a tight hug. Claire buried her face in Riley's leather jacket and broke

e into a cramped back room cluttered with receipts a

ht. The texts. The pill. By the time she fi

ton Pierce. And your father-when this is over, I'm goi

er hands. "You need a distraction. Despe

OPEN sign to CLOSED, and locked the door. Outside, the two plaincloth

to an unmarked building. A massive bouncer recogn

booth in the back corner, her body finally registering the exhaustion she had been fighting all day. Her eyes scanned t

e texted a club promoter she knew. Need a favor. Big one. Send your best guys to the VIP booth. The pretty one jus

. Claire drank the cold liquid rapidly, the al

ng, and activated it with trembling fingers. Before she coul

hard the screen flashed. "He can't

r glass. "Damn righ

it men walked in, wearing unbuttoned black silk shirts and confident, practice

ened. "Riley. Tel

lls into Claire's frozen hands. "You, my darling, are going to remember what

n the bruise on her jaw. "No pressure, beautiful. We can just talk. Or da

atching. Somewhere across the city, Houston was probably already being notified. And somewhere d

ok the