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Wrong Room: Trapped By The Ruthless CEO

Wrong Room: Trapped By The Ruthless CEO

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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1426    |    Released on: Today at 17:09

ey card felt slick against

she stared at her phone screen. A single

Catherine Byers is overdue. Account bal

t to it felt like a tiny, sha

lent hallway of the St. Regis seemed to thin

eping face flashing behind her eyelids. The sterile scent of th

her voice a raw, trembling thre

her. It was

house B felt heavy, as if she were wading through thick mud. Her heart hammered against he

ed the key card to the electronic lock. A soft gree

was a de

eavy door open a

faint, glittering tapestry of the Manhattan skylin

xpensive whiskey and a sharp, masculine cologne that c

, her fingers tight around the

voice barely audible, swallow

and the rough edge of alcohol, answe

're

lenched. The clien

o sorr

tte emerged from the shadows. He moved with a predator's s

he. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wr

chest as hard as stone, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Sh

est. He must have mistaken her genuine shock

against her heated skin. His towering frame completely eclipsed the city lights, trapping

he tried to stammer, her mind racing t

ords were

ominance. It wasn't a kiss of passion; it was an act of ownership, a statement of

All thought, all protest, dissolve

her mother's face, fragile and wan a

corner of her eye, tracing

and absolute,

osed h

e, went limp. The fight drained out of her,

e kiss, his breathing harsh in the silence. Without a word, he hook

her toward

less puppet, her mind a maelstrom of shame, humiliation, and a

urple and gray against the wi

reness. The sheets were a tangled mess ar

r head slowly

side, sleeping, his features relaxed. A strong jaw, a straight nose, dark hair falling

tely, utte

ic. She scrambled out of the bed, one hand clamped ov

t only bile came up. Her body s

for breath. She caught her reflection in the vast, gold-trimmed mirror. A pale

the sharp pain a welcome distracti

found her clothes discarded on a chair and dressed with frantic, silent

or, its contents spilled out. Her w

, cracked-s

familiar, worn plastic. She just wanted to

e phone, a hand shot out from the

her head s

as a

n her. They were a cold, piercing shade of gray, sharp as a hawk

r phone vibrated in her

ID read:

ok of profound disgust twisted his handsome features. He thought

a low, cold growl. "The tran

eration making her voice sharp. She tried t

edictable trick to get more money, to forge a connection. His

, he snatched the p

she sc

r that seemed disproportionate, almost personal. He rose from t

t motion, he hurled her p

device exploded into pieces-plastic, glass, a

went blac

only line to the hospital. Her on

nt. The blood in her

captive all night suddenly combusted, tra

is grasp with a strength sh

at him. She di

te, the man who had taken everything and then smas

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Wrong Room: Trapped By The Ruthless CEO
Wrong Room: Trapped By The Ruthless CEO
“Six years ago, my mother's life support was about to be cut off over a $50,000 medical bill. Desperate, I agreed to sell myself to a wealthy client in Penthouse C. But in my blind panic, I swiped my key card into Penthouse B. Before I could explain, a terrifying stranger dragged me into the pitch-black room and ruthlessly claimed me. When dawn broke, I realized my catastrophic mistake. Worse, when my mother's nurse called, the stranger mistook it for a pimp and violently smashed my only phone to pieces against the wall. I fled the hotel in tears, only to discover the real client next door had already left. Because of that one wrong door, the money never came in time, and my mother passed away two days later. I was left with a shattered life and, nine months later, a pair of fatherless twins. For six years, I struggled in the dirt to raise my children alone. I thought I had finally escaped that nightmare. "We prefer to hire employees without family baggage," the interviewer sneered, rejecting me for a junior designer role. I didn't understand. If I was humiliated and rejected so harshly, why did the corporate HR department suddenly override the decision and send me a direct offer an hour later? It wasn't until I walked into the CEO's office that my blood ran cold. The ruthless billionaire sitting behind the desk, holding my six-year-old revenge note, was the monster from that dark room.”