His Unwanted Wife, The Billionaire's Obsession

sliding over the che

housand

awthorne Group logo, a brand seare

y, her small face pale against the hospital pillows, flashed behind her

for Lily'

a stark contrast to the worn fabric of her coat pocket

lung low on his hips. Blaise Hawthorne. His dark hair was damp, his eyes sharp and pre

e dropping to the floor. She needed to escape

said, her voice a raw whisper, sh

her husband, Jace Landry, a

f ice against glass the only sound in the room. He poured a

bare, but a faint, white mark circled th

, his voice a low, amused dra

at made her gasp for air. She bit down hard

ned, her hand clutching the edge of her coat, and walked to

h the doorknob when his voice c

rgot so

, she tu

thumb and forefinger. A silver bracelet, one

nged for it, a desperate, clumsy movement. It was the most pr

hand out of her reach, a

t back?" He slipped the bracelet into the pocket of his

olently in her pocket. The screen

e yanked the phone out and stabbed the decline button, he

was gone, replaced by something deeper, more calculating. H

uld only glare at him before yanking th

t the cold metal wall as the doors slid shut.

aged face. Bruises, shaped like fingerpr

a single, hot tear traced

over the inside, where a delicate, swirling 'E' was engraved. The image of a girl in

t you to look into Jace Landry's recent financi

ling window, staring down at

d her system, clearing a fraction of the fog in her head. She clutched

gilded cage of the Landry e

. The funeral home was waiting.

he machine, her phone vibra

home tomorrow. We need to discu

ing around her heart, squeezi

her. That man. He was still using

e machine whirred, and the new balance flas

and walked aimlessly down

between her and Jace Landry was a reckoning. And the dangerous man