gaze flicking from the single

ayful mockery. "One bedroom? Is the Sharpe family going bankrupt? Or

was a rule set by Mr. Sharpe's grandfather. Sharpe couples a

t feels less like a master suite and more like a high-end containment

Mrs. Sharpe. It is the only place in the estate co

n's wheelchair, looking down at him. The pr

offensively casual. "Are you really para

Mrs. Sharpe! Please,

He tilted his head back, his calm blue eyes meeting

lower extremities is called paraplegia. I would have thought someone s

e for a sp

lacking refinement.' It seems he was not mistaken." He

so much about me, then you should also know I didn't come to New York to play the submissive victim," she whispered, her breath ghosti

a fraction of a second, a

his position in the chair. "Is that so?" he

felt a flicker of frus

arrived. If you require anything, please let me know. M

shed as far as she could for one day. She

s wheelchair toward

loe. Her back was slender but defiant as she wrestl

ue eyes. The claws she hid beneath that ragged exteri

the door. "Sir, this woman is

splaying Chloe's file. "A fearless pawn is more useful than

, though his eyes were

idated closet. Besides a few worn-out

d with dark soil. She caressed the glass, her expressio

research binder on neurochemical degradation. Inside the folder was her Columbi

e, the Sharpe family... they were all just stepping stones.

wled. No, she couldn't live like this. She h

out of the closet and headed in the direction Zane had gone. She w