Sold To My Ex's Billionaire Uncle

ingdom. All of Manhattan, sprawling and glittering, lay at his feet.

it did

of the previous night. The feel of her skin, the sce

wave of nausea. For the first time since he was a child, a woman's touch h

rface of his massive redwood desk. Tap.

nock. Only one person in th

ethoscope slung around his neck like

plopping down in the chair opposite the desk. "Canc

his friend with his iciest glare.

n," Burleigh stat

e sharp focus of a physician. "Touched? What do you mean, touched? What part of her?

ng through the barrage of questio

uinely stunned. He stroked his chin, his mind clearl

somatic, rooted in deep trauma. It can't just disappear. Who was s

of discussing Kelsey. She was a complication,

r. Vincent Hayes entered, silent and efficient

ary background che

his brow furrowed. "Wait a minute. Isn't y

tten it into the contract himself. But seeing it spelled out, and hearing Alek voice the connection aloud, only sharpened the cold fury

nd DMV-style photo, was a study in defiant beauty. Below it was her personal information, and

this is a New York high-society scandal in the

izing she had signed the agreement despite being bound to his nephew, fueled his contempt. He felt played. A woman who would climb from his nephew's bed to his, a calc

e desk, the sound a sharp

he one woman in the world who doesn't make you break out in hiv

, a strange light d

in the Hamptons. You said there was a girl. A girl who helped

ht. The crash. The pain. And a girl. A faceless, nameless girl with a soothing voice a

" Burleigh snapped, b

citement palpable. "Could this Kelsey Costa..

bility. He had never connected the two events. One was a fleeting moment of

was

ing the internal phone. H

nce

ir

his voice tight with an urgency he rarely displayed. "Where she went to schoo

ed the p

back. He stared down at the city, but he wasn't seeing it. He was seeing a

is? A coincidence? Or a brilliantly orchestrat

erce and unfamiliar,

e was. He didn't care

was an enigma

s going t