Jilted Fiancée? No, The Billionaire Heiress!

ora

lobby of The Grill, fully intending to call a car ser

ing for me by the entranc

thly. "Mr. Romero insisted

a hint of my old independence fla

ousine or a town car. It was a black, heavily armored SUV, the kind used by heads of

evealing Damon Romero's stern profi

at me. He looke

The words were not a sugg

that this was not a point for debate. I had entered his world, and in his world, the Don did not leave his

I opened the heavy door and s

cedar and something else-ozone, perhaps. The silence was absolute, the

affic. "They want to announce our engagement next month. The Commission h

also appreciated it. No games. No hesi

y years with Jefferey, where every silence had to be filled with chatter, with reassu

ntial tower I had called home. My home with Jef

oor handle, Damon spok

ral secure properties near Central Park West. They are watc

ad shown. The offer was unexpected, and for a

"Thank you, but I

t merged back into the flow of traffic, a dar

. He was waiting for me in the

tight with a jealousy he had no right

ding for the bedroom. My business here was

grip surprisingly stron

my eyes flashing with

seemed to enrage him more than any screaming matc

closet, fuming. "You're trying t

d it at me. "Here. I bought this for you. Your favorite

ce, with a high collar and puffy sleeves. It was the

not the woman I was. It was the ultimate proof

ress fall t

es of my old life crumbled away. He was still trying to solve this w

ng expression, a flicker of rea

t was time to