her grip to tighten on the folding knife. The blade dug deepe

e. There was no fear in his eyes. Only a cold, towering ar

ed his solid, muscular chest directl

the ribs, she scrambled backward, her spin

s a low, venomous whisper, his eyes flashing with

grabbed her wrist, his thumb pressing brutal

ngers involuntarily sprang open. The knife dropped onto

her hands behind her back. He pinned her wrists together

torn pocket of her trench coat. He pul

ght. His eyes scanned the text. A c

reet accent making the words sound like a disease. "You're a cleaner. A bo

e a slap. Caroline's face flushed hot wit

my fridge full," she snarled, tw

t. He looked at her like she was radioactive.

k, leaving a stinging, angry red mark. She clenched her

he police. Tell them we have an extortio

ey would find the NDA in her bra. Her client's secret wou

to mov

d drove it upward with all her strengt

king the blow on his upper thigh instead. But the sudden movement

rd, grabbed his hand, and sank her teeth deep in

hard enough t

of pain. He yanked his hand b

s found the emergency mechanical release lever

he Maybach, hitting the concrete floor hard. Her knee

bag from where it had fallen on the seat and sprinted to

. A deep, bleeding ring of teeth marks mar

front seat, looking panicked.

"No," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "Find

the brick wall of a dark alley. Her chest heav

nd her phone vibrated in her pocket, the caller ID flashing Rocco Vance, her VIP client; she answered, forcing her voice into a flat, p

xhaustion hit her. She walked over to a dirty puddle reflecting the streetlights. She stared a

time, it was Director Gable f

e was frantic. "You need

phanage was her only weak spot. She ran to the curb,

tep on it,"