Running From The Amnesiac Billionaire Tyrant

ra's eyes s

st the back of her skull. She tried to sit up, but her muscles felt like liquid.

to her violently shoved their way into her brain. She

fabricated story about growi

mages. She had transmigrated into the American romance novel she read just last night. She was the vicious supporting c

and the particle-board furniture confirmed the reality of the bot

ad been on a hunger strike to force the male lead to buy her a designer ba

de the door. The old wooden f

thing stoppe

thin walls. He was back. Cyrus Pace, the amnesiac billionaire currentl

inter wind swept into the living room. Aliya instinctively p

a dull thud. The movement carried the sheer e

g room and took a deep, ragged breath, suppressing his visce

with images of his ruthless revenge once he regained his memory. Her bod

r door open. The faint light from the hallway hit his broad s

the mattress. He expected the usual hig

he bed like a terrified rabbit. Her eyes were wide, fill

silence and sheer terror fell outside his expec

trying to get a better

e in distance. She scrambled backward, her spine h

was hoarse, laced with

laying your hun

came out. She could only shake her head frantically. Tears of ph

the mockery in Cyrus's eyes freeze. It was repla

bills. It was the tip money he had earned delivering DoorDas

hitting the cheap wood was

stated coldly. "It won't buy

f guilt slammed into her chest. The man standing before her was the CEO of Pace Global Holdings, a

take the money. Instead, she pushed the bill

y," she w

bomb. Cyrus's massive frame instantly

h, this woman who claimed to be his childhood sweethea

to Aliya's dodging eyes, trying to find the crack i

de Aliya's scalp tingle. She forced a

," she stuttered. "I

t thick enough to choke on. Finally, he withdrew his gaze. He turne

e mattress, her muscles