er, his gaze analytical, as if assessing the structural integrity of he

ook care of you." He was trying to reframe it again, not as an assault, but

y on high alert. "I'm not jumping from one cage into another." The very idea of be

on, but as a fact. "I can. Wealth. Status. Protection." He paused, letting the

immering with possibility. A part of her, the part that was raw and ble

ant anything from you. I just want to leave." She tried one last

almost imperceptible nod. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and produ

, holding it out to her. "Fo

uestion. It w

glancing at it before shoving it into the pocket of he

to hide her from his view. She sagged against the cool metal wall, gasping for a

she pulled out her phone an

send to my room last night?" she dem

ou talking about? Belle, it was a joke! A stupid, drunk

one nothing, sent no one. Isabelle hung

oom. She had gotten into the wrong bed. She had offered hersel

card from her pocket, stared at the elegant gold lettering for a second, and then, with a

nto the blinding morning sun. Her p

a weary, irritat

Miller from the NYPD's 19th Precinct. Your mother, Marion Wells, has been taken i

elle's ears. "What? That's impossible! You have the wrong per

r of the previous night. The next, that disaster was

st Side. Slumped in the back seat, she felt the city blur past her in a meaningless smear of yellow and gray.

d brought clarity. This

rock, her entire world. She had to

abelle threw a wad of cash at the driver and scrambled out, her heart a block

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