After Exposing My Identity, My Ruthless Husband Begged for Love

penthouse suite didn't make a

ldn't be here. She should be anywhere but here. But the memory of Robert Sullivan's frantic ultimatum-"Get him to sign the release on your mother's trust, Sienna, or the bank seizes the estate by morning"-acted like a lead weight ch

r-to-ceiling windows. Manhattan was a grid of electric veins b

d, the silk hanging like a noose around his neck. Even in the shadows, Julian Vanderbilt

reath. It hitch

Vande

her voice was

of something that wasn't just alcohol. He moved faster than a man in his state should hav

e slammed her agai

her head back, exposing the column of her throat. His palm was scorching hot a

ow growl, vibrating against her c

I

finish. He crushed

against the solid wall of his chest, but it was like trying to hold back a landslide. The drugs in his system had strip

pper tearing tore t

muscle memory she kept buried under oversized sweaters and a meek persona. She could incapa

to keep the Ghost buried. Not if s

It was a tact

rld tilted. Pain, sharp and sudden, spiked through her, followed by a strange, terrifying friction. She bit her l

er, the s

drug-induced coma, his breathin

inder of the violation. She slowly untangled herself from the sheets, her movements silent,

d to the

as his watch. A Patek Philippe. Complicated

ed out a crumpled bill. One hundred dol

y watch and slid th

t was dangerous

from the outside. She could hear the heavy tread of the private sec

ifted. The vulne

of sheer, friction-resistant gloves that looked like evening wear but were designed for tactical rappelling. She secured the wire to

n't loo

he railing and dro

the skin from her palms. She braked hard, swinging toward a window on the fifty-fifth floor she knew was unlatched due to a blind spot she h

e spire of the Empire Stat