Ruthless Desires
the space between them like an inv
d as Celeste's words
last person who tri
ound the folder, as if it were a shiel
k, her gaze drilling into Liana with
fused to
ction-denial, amusement, anything-but he simply l
y, he
ng dramatic
she knew more than she let on. She crossed her arms, her bl
to Liana. "Did he tell you a
accepting the job. Killian Vaughn was notoriousl
writer before her, th
last writer
ad. "No one knows. Is
m felt
im to refute the claim. But Vaughn didn't r
ply wa
nnerving than anyth
was an answe
s calm,. "Celeste,
"Of course. I wouldn't want to
d out, the faint scent of expens
t with an ee
easing the breath she hadn
n, her pulse still racing
vaguely irritated. "Celeste Laurent," h
s. "And who exactly
then sighed.
"Fiancée? Didn't take y
g the cuffs of his black dress shirt. "It was...
ear
hift in his tone. He wa
i
he wouldn't. .If he wanted to keep his secret
ick folder. "You said eve
t reading. We'll
walked out, leaving he
t, his ver
room that night, staring
t, the kind of silence t
tened-and now, she was locked inside a billionaire's estate, ta
ered if she should
that needed answers-was alre
, it was
thplace. Education. Ea
nt, the more the deta
o childhood records
tarted with private capital-
nts. No siblings. No relatives
onships, excep
s too
st a man guard
n who had era
question
ouldn't
the ceiling, the weight of the
out this fel
self. Her bare feet barely made a sound against the ha
he sanitized version o
to see th
ss-strategic security c
h of it c
by an off
r door
reached
lightly on
ope
kened as she s
or-to-ceiling windows overlooking the vast, moonlit estate
tention was the safe h
its kic
tive journalist. She knew how to find
gers grazing the edges.
-a stack of o
ed-then pic
e dulled by years of handling. It had once been a pristine memory, but now it
olled-as if he had already learned to mask his emotions. He wore a sharp black suit, tailored despite his still-growing frame. His hair, sligh
ncertain. Like they should have been doing something e
d another man-t
owerful men wore, the silk tie perfectly knotted, the cufflinks gleam
his
een burned out
ched. Not
rn
jagged black hole where his features should have been. The burn marks s
ted to simply remove the man. Th
ulder-a grip that seemed too firm, possessive-and the expensive signet ring
re you
a fr
rway, arms crossed. His
h
om, his presence suddenly i
voice was calm, but the
efusing to look guilt
ift she barely saw it
ng the picture into his pocket. "Som
hard. "Who was
dn't
he turn
y private affa
osed to write
, but it
the version
his gaze, u
sn't s
n't just some self
ething beneat
ing to find ou
it kil