The Secret Tycoon's Sweet Vengeful Queen

ieve

bench since his knee injury named Crawford Hayden sent me a loca

ugh the rain-soaked windshield at the brightly lit luxury VIP cabin

o face r

metallic click. He turned his head, his ice-blue eyes c

laxed set of his shoulders, the way he

whose wife cheated. More like a person w

st hope you'll still be this composed when you

pushed open the heavy door. In an instant, the cold sleet hit my

-four body suddenly came around the fro

oward the cabin. The roar of rain hitti

branch snagged my trench coat. My heel

e dirt. The rough calluses on his palm burned t

footing."Th

wrist back. His g

this mattered, and now that we were actually about

lled me low into the dark sha

g windows ahead. The heavy velvet curtains were dr

eyes, and I wiped it away with the back

suit jacket. I had steamed that exact jacket for my husband, De

laugh cut thr

you finally going to dum

easy female voice came

the splinters bit into my skin. Through the gap, two

n Mccormick, my best

e media worshiped as a devoted family m

lity, the knowledge that I was betrayed by the closest

ng his broad chest against my back and grippin

puck scar above his eyebrow gleamed under

etic Vanguard Institute salary to balan

mash the glass, but Crawford locked his arm ar

his hot breath bru

d all you get is an

Suddenly, the phone inside my coat po

the glass, my husband leaned back against the sofa cushions, one arm wrapp

d the icy screen to my ear. M

acticed voice came

he ice late for extra drills. I'm already

d his head down and kissed

y knuckles and force

ay.

rained from my fingers. My phone slipped

erked his head t

was

ed me off my feet, and dragged me backward

ing less than two feet away from where we stood. After a few ag

from my mouth, his ice-blue eye

o you want