g windows of Carlisle's Manhattan penthouse, castin

s 7:0

kitchen island, wearing a dark grey

o his lips, his other hand swiping through t

r dropped down from

from: Cier

red the espresso cup, a dark, m

t anything. He assumed she would have pa

ox. He fully expected to see a chaotic, glitte

ped th

The attached file didn't even have a prop

professionalism was insulting. She couldn'

. The iPad automatically open

is espresso, his eyes lazily s

s dilated

, coughing violently as he slammed the cup down onto

h both hands, pulling i

across the screen, reading th

a market

scene of sexual dominance. And the male charac

dly. His face grew ho

y how she would force him to his knees, how she would use his own expens

m-the untouchable Carlisle McLean-crawling toward her, begging fo

heavy and ragged. His chest

ding rage explo

the marble counter. The loud crack

paced toward the windows, staring down at Cent

e narrative was

to fail. So she resorted to this. A sick, twisted power fantasy de

ht he was weak enough to trade a multi-mill

ever thought about her. She was a shallow, manipulative

island and snatched up his ph

first ring. "Good

narled, his voice vibrating with

ng the murder in his tone. "I have her Brookl

rectly to my penthouse. Do not t

ood," K.

back of the iPad, his stomach twisting with

ery ounce of her dignity. He was going to make her regret the d

uzzi bubbled quietly in the center of the dark stone room. He stripped and submerged himself in the scalding water, letting the heat seep into his tense muscles. When K.C. eventually called to announce her arrival, he wouldn