The Billionaire Refuses To Divorce Me

oice, now laced with a theatrical whimper, drifted from t

ritis didn't cause chest tightness. It was

pped out, the heavy wood swinging shut behind her, cu

et was a relief, like coming up for air after being held underw

oward the staff elevator. All she wanted was to get home, take a scaldi

opened again behind her. A single set of

sence, an oppressive weight in the air, a familiar,

as the heavy footsteps approached. A floor below, she hurried out; her off

r office, immediately turning and throwing the deadbolt. The solid

e closed her eyes. Her heart was racing, a wild, f

hite coat she had just shucked off. There was another ex

ice phone on her desk

he knew who it was. She let it rin

ha

ogetic. "Iris... uh... Mr. Pope says he

left for the day," she

a step, she heard a new sound. The faint, metallic scr

he doorknob began to turn slowly. She had forgotten. The de

or swu

hallway light, plunging her small office into shadow. He stepped inside and c

ck, heavy with his unspoken intent. The room, which had always felt functi

dge of her cold, metal desk pressed into h

ked down at her, his face a mask of complex emotions. There was curiosity, a tightly controlled anger

, or maybe it was just the sheer force of his

retched, taut

lly said, his voice

traveled from her ears straight to her stomach, which cl

indifference. "Mr. Pope," she replied, her own voice clipped an

desperate attempt to reclai

e continued, her voice steady despite the tremor she f

that so? My lawyer informed me that when he went to file the paper

y stunned. That was his reason

He leaned down, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, it see

g uniquely him-enveloped her. It was overwhelming, disorientin

on either side of her, his arms bracketing he

snapped, her voice sharp with warning. "For Kelsey Mcknight's sak