HIS CONTRACTED OBSESSION

agon sat upright in the backseat, her spine a perfect line of tension. Her slender hands rested over a leather portfolio that contained more se

ian corporate law, rising where many had fallen. But tonight-tonight was a different

mons. It was an invitation t

night. Of course it would be midnight-Damien Laurent, Europe's most elusive billionaire, operated by no clock but his own. It suited a

erate fingers. Her breath came shallow. There were no accidents in Damien Laurent's world. I

out cons

ut silently and opened her door as though for royalty. Camille emerged into the rain, her heart al

and stepped into the private lift. No other passengers. No buttons, either-the lift s

s Laurent's assistant, a slender woman with elegantly sharp features an

on," she murmured, gesturing into

as an immaculate display of wealth and power-glass, steel, and rare antiques,

ere he

other. Dark hair swept back in casual disarray. Grey eyes the color of cold smoke. A face carved in elegant brutality. There was nothing soft abou

, cultured, and laced with something darker beneath t

d slowly and s

ame. And it ha

o on her lap. Damien finally turned, his gaze sweeping over her, taking in eve

nd tossed the file onto

y is appreciated

" she replied,

his mouth. He liked defiance. It amu

r without asking. Then he sat, one leg cross

rought," he said, "is

eting his gaze. "Then why a

ighing how much of the truth to reveal

nly person in my comp

was unexpected

oned me f

you because I need something. And yo

ssion neutral. "Wh

arri

d between them

linked. "

mpensated well beyond your current salary. And at the conclusion of our arrangement, you w

's puls

o reclaim ownership of her early work-research that had made Laurent Bioworks

calculate

er voice steady despit

ething sharp flickerin

ause you despise being controlled. And

nding. "This is madness. I'm not

l, his movements sm

e not for sale. You're for h

d racing. His offer burned like acid-im

ed, he spoke one final lin

e not walking away from a job. Y

knew exactly whe

-

ment windows. Camille paced the sleek confines of her li

very subtle trap. She had brewed tea, then poured wi

ng the part of herself that had been stripped away-by Laurent Bioworks, b

er to the man who held answers she needed. Damien Laurent wasn't just the gatekeeper of her patents. He was also c

low of dawn bleed into the sky. Her reflection s

nger want

anted

ry Damien Laurent to

ea what he was g

her phone and type

cce

came withi

game begin