The Abused Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector

was the first thing she felt, a brutal welcome back to consciousness

was something expensive and foreign, a deep, woody cologne th

s felt disconnected, a dull ache radiating from ever

nst her bare back sent a jolt

a

ck was

ght fist squeezing the air from he

handelier dripping from the ceiling like a frozen waterfall. T

her head on

air of cool

uscle that tapered down to the crisp white sheet covering his waist. He was brutally handsome, his

know that. All she knew was the te

ape. She scrambled backward, dragging the duvet

his eyes. Only a quie

r voice was a dry

kered to a half-empty glass of

antic and loud, accompanied by a high, shrill

own eyes, the shameless girl,

y. Her adop

ead, the strange room, the man in her bed-it all snapped into p

ng crack, slammed against the inne

f reporters and a few wide-eyed New

d-fire click of camera shutters was like a machine gun, each shot

mask of theatrical grief, but her eyes gl

uld you disgrace our family name like this

dal wave of shame washed over her,

questions wer

y, who is

your rela

e of this affa

ther, launching into a tirade about Alexandrea's rebell

asn't true, but her voice was a ghost, lost i

e chaos, Ace Griff

r out of the room. The frantic energy faltered. The reporters lowered their ca

with a deliberate grace that was utterly at odds with the scene. His gaz

rippling through the room as they tried to place the

s wasn't in her script. The man was supposed to be a nobody, a hired h

pale and tear-streaked. Then he looked back at Ivette, and the corner of his mouth cur

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