-

an doesn't sound li

attan, midnight is alive. Cars honking, helicopters, ligh

was wearing only his black t-shirt. Nothing else. It was huge on me, fell to my mid-thigh, sleeves to my elbows. My legs bare, feet bare, hair still dam

retty. Dangerous. Like a wom

ctly what was

just stood there, in black sweatpants, white t-shirt, watc

ella. He is wet. He has been waiting in the rain for 20 minutes. My doorman asked if he s

. "Is th

ice. And justice

r his t-shirt, his forehead against mine. Hi

nd him away. I can make his loan due in one hour and r

ant to see him kneel. I want to hear

dangerous, perfect smile that

him a show he w

the private e

t a little, pearls shining, fireplace casting gold on my face. Alexander next to me, arm around me, hand on my bar

evator

Cole wal

d, I didn't rec

, voice loud. He was the man who dragged me by my hair across the marble f

ray than black, face lined, eyes red from crying or rain or both. No watch. No driver. N

Alexander's shirt, baref

e whispered,

t father. Richard. Co

t me, then at Alexander's hand on m

. you

ow. When she wants. She wears my shirts. She sleeps in my black sheets. And you... you are kneeli

ain dripped from his

her sister's. She said I am weak. She said I let a little girl - you - ruin us. Jake's family called. They pulled the wedding investment. $10 million, gone. Investors saw Chloe's Liv

calm, so attractive, so cruel. "24% is a good number. In Paris, we say a col

your father. I made yo

hen she said I stole pearls. You raised me until you let her hit me for ten years. You raised me until you told me at my mother's funeral - my mothe

Tears falling now, mixi

emem

Say what

who chose pride over treatment and left me w

ack dress that was too big because we had no

become magic and yo

you reg

rd. On the marble floor. Coat

gic and I was scared of magic! Victoria was easy! Victoria wanted money and a house and parties! Elena wanted love! I didn

y bare feet. My feet that were barefoo

orgive me. I will do

otective. He was letting me lead, but rea

kneeling at my bare feet,

hate. No love. Just... pow

, Richard

, hopeful. "

feet like dogs. I like men kneeling like Alexander

od, sh

our company

. plea

y. I don't want your building. I want th

yth

prises. L-A-U-R-E-N-T. Elena Laurent. My mother's name. On the building. On the cards. On the web

antic. "Yes, yes,

-Cole. So she doesn't have to marry a man who says another woman's name in his sleep t

es

five years. You go. Every week. White roses. Not red. White. You say sorry. Not to me. To her. You tell her you were scared. You tell her you failed. You

ing so hard he

ed. "You don't want money

g, standing in front of my father, taller than him now because I was standing on his rug a

me, arms around my waist,

nt. Not Isabella. Not daughter. Ms. Laurent. Because Ms. Laurent is the woman who owns your de

n his shirt, Alexander holding me li

s, Ms. Laurent. Than

said. "Midn

pping, crying, but alive. Not ru

ce. Only rain on the windo

urned me in his arms

just did? Do you know how attractive you were? Standing there, barefoot, in my shirt, making your father beg

cruel?" I

erfect. You are

his waist, his hands under my thighs, my arms aro

e bed with black sheets, and laid me dow

er us, pulled me into his chest, my head on h

y hair, my forehead, my cheek w

uching his jaw, his li

l Park and my father's tears still on his rug and my mother

n who owned

holding me, like I was the most attractiv

-