minutes. Chris wal

Rolls-Royce, but one car remained. A cherry-red B

s wearing oversized Chanel sunglasses and lipstick the color of fresh blood.

a show, Mr. Ol

resting against the door of her car. He lo

ng me, Adelia. That'

intelligent, and currently wide with surprise. No one spoke

nicured nails on the steering wheel. "She traded a wolf

ice," Chris

ound. "I like you, Chris. You're... differe

orts wer

, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Elizabeth

e the Olsons burn

ked the doors. "Get in.

the passenger seat. The car smelle

e exit of the lot. She looked out the back window

ce wen

y?" Greg asked, squintin

alousy, hot and acidic, clawed at her chest. "Dr

engine. She wove through traffic

He didn't gasp. He watched the road with the bored d

d?" Adelia asked,

with people actively sho

heel tightened. "Who a

scenic overlook high

ake a relationship. I get the buzz. I get to humiliate

back of her neck. He didn't squeeze, but the weight of hi

't just want to be seen. I want 200 million dollars in a b

against her ribs. The audacity.

're expensive for

his thumb tracing the pulse point

s eyes. She saw darkn

she wh