ent, sideways sheets, turning the eveni

ivering in her black business suit. The fabric w

visiting the top three divorc

e look at the name "Axel Farrell" on her i

one vibrated

s email from Jared

It was a high-

just visited, standing on a private golf course in

t. Axel was showing her that sh

ugh. She deleted the email and

red through the rain

rground speakeasy. The kind of place whe

t, ignoring the water

he system registered her instantly. Her access wasn't tied to the Farrell Group, but to an old, ironclad PR contract she'd pers

heavily of aged cigar smoke and expensive

st, darkest corner of the

ender, wrapping her numb fingers around the gl

waterproof bag and opened the dos

eded a

press against the side of her face.

d her head

r right, cloaked in de

buttons undone. His long, scarred fingers were slowly,

on his wrist. A Richard Mille

ve time for arrogant billionaires looking f

d tapped a leather checkbook

ollar minimum spend," the bartender said

ecks, but she only had about four hundred dollars

la said, reachi

a solid black Centurion card slid across t

breath

ing right next to her. He moved with the te

bled. It was deep, gravelly, an

nsing defensively. "I don't need

lightly. The dim ligh

arble. Pale, sharp jawline, and a faint, ja

is dark, dangerous eyes dropped to

ancial acquisition bluepr

pulled at the corne

oice sending a shiver down Ayla's spine. "But

gainst her ribs. She s