The Billionaire's Cruel Secret

onaire's C

ot

Adrian C

onference room. Forty people sat around the

hecked the figu

was the worst part. He dropped her report onto the table as if it were something dirty. "T

ir seats. Someone near the b

face still. She had been trained for this by years of foster homes, cheap apartments, and

it by mor

s winter glass. "And Miss Reyes? If you can't handle this job, there are

actually b

s, s

smis

eady hands and walked out. She d

ding without cameras. Amara pushed through the door, let it close behin

let hers

ree months of this. Every meeting, every email, every hallway. Of all the analysts in Cole

I ever d

no money for lunch until payday. She pulled her knees up and breathed u

paper bag was waiting

, a bottle of water, and a small sl

ne was typing, heads down, avoiding h

d, though Delia had never spoken to her. She a

the floor. If she had looked up, she might have noticed that his reflection was watching her. Th

didn't

rected report. Not one figure had chan

it. He kne

he night guard and the hum of the lights. She stepped out through the

Amara

sto

than her yearly rent, hands folded in front of him. He wasn't a reporter. He wasn't a debt

's as

met." His voice softened. "Miss Reyes, I need you to list

mmered. "I do

as been looking for you

eet went

hadn't said aloud since she was five years old, standing on the steps

t funny," s

he car door. "Your family name is Hartwell

d frozen at the glass wall, watching the black car below.

whispered. "She wasn't s