the night in her childhood bedroom, the portfolio f
It was Connor, his face etched with worry. He s
e. "You don't have to do this. We'll find an
s eyes, and a fierce resolve hardened within her. She wasn't the
aid, her voice firm. "It's a strategy
ing shallow, his face pale and drawn against the white pillows. The sight of him, so frail and
would be
nd focused. Instantly, she could see it-the swirling, murky gray mass of biological
ded in her core. She visualized that warmth flowing down her arm, into her hand, and projecting into her
s wor
ad been clinging to. A faint touch of color returned to her father'
velyn. It was real. Her power was real. S
it was a shield. Marrying him would buy her the time and resources she desperate
ictim in this transaction. S
cked up the portfolio, and found Delano's private numb
his deep voice cutting throug
d. I am not coming to this marriage as a desperate supplicant. I am coming as your partner. My family's legacy will be protected. My voice in th
cted her to negotiate, nor had he expected her to set terms. When he spoke again, t
e at the International Business Summ
he had. The man made billions by being ten steps ahead of every
could almost hear the hint of appr
time, Evelyn felt like she had a hand on
the very back, wrapped in a garment bag, was a dress she had bought but never dared to wear. It
Connor stared, speechless. The woman before them was not the hear
of gold. Her father's potential recovery was her secret weapon, her ultimate trum
hought barely registered. He was a ghost from a pa
t to bind herself to. This marriage was a battlefiel
summit. Flashbulbs popped as she stepped out onto the red carpet. Wh
he held her head high and
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