ian Sterling's office without knocking. Julian stood by the window, the crumpled ho
Chloe Prescott. She posted this an hour ago. Looking f
ion of that night was still vivid in his mind-two hundred dollars, a three-star rating. That wom
of his lips. "She wants to buy a husband. Let
er from all legitimate companies before
to understand that she's trapped herself. Prepare a new identity. Julian Sterling isn't suited for this. Portray me as a mid-level wealth manager bankrupt from a divorce. From a prestigious background, ruined b
"Sir, if thing
and firm. "She played a game with
ady cold. The first applicant had stared at her chest for ten minutes. The second applicant had asked
urge to scream. Considering the travel time and the time needed to get the certificate, if she c
the coffee
ent a man might wear when his fortunes have faded. There were no designer labels, and no trace of wealth. Yet, his unhurried, composed demeanor made
is shadow fell o
as a winter sky. A memory surfaced in her mind, a ghost she couldn't grasp. But the drugs had almost compl
His gaze was fixed on her, a meaningful smile p
re looking fo
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