ВойтиHe hasn't moved a single millimeter in over seventeen hours. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck. Even if he had engine trouble, he would have called a private flatbed. He wouldn't just sit on a dark, isolated highway shoulder all night without sending a single text. I'm going to ch
It is past eight in the morning, I have a company to run today, and my body is running on zero percent fuel. But as I step through the swinging doors into the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks. There is no scent of bacon, no freshly brewed coffee, and zero activity. Instead, three of the housemaids
The look on his face. That smug, infuriating, triumphant look Owen wore when he clicked the folder shut. My lawyer—that pompous, overpaid little weasel—had warned me. He had told me that Owen doesn't have the will because he has it, and it was a ploy to get me to confess. And what did I do? I di
"And finally," I nod at her. "To Georgia Newton, the widow of my son, I leave a one-time settlement of ten thousand dollars to cover immediate relocation expenses from the property." Georgia gasps, her mask of innocence shattering into a million pieces. She stands up, taking a menacing step toward
"It's about time," Caroline snarls, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and tapping her heel against the floor. "We have been sitting in this stuffy room for forty-five minutes. Better get on with it." I don't even look up from the leather binder resting on my lap. I slowly turn a crisp, blank
She’s wearing a silk robe, a laptop is balanced on her knees loudly streaming a reality television show, and scattered all over my crisp white duvet are open bags of greasy potato chips, chocolate wrappers, and half-eaten cookies. I have a lot of boundaries, but my number-one, non-negotiable mental
I run a trembling hand over my face, desperately trying to clear my vision, but it’s a losing battle. The rain, courtesy of three massive industrial overhead sprinklers, is relentless, pouring down on me in icy, heavy sheets that make my skin sting. I’m standing in the middle of a simulated street
A wave of pure relief washes over me, so strong I feel dizzy. "Thank you. Oh, thank you—" "But," he interrupts, holding up a hand. "There will be clauses. I do not work for free, and as you’ve already admitted, even if you worked for the next three years, you couldn't afford my standard hourly rate
The morning sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Grandmother Newton’s sunroom, giving a beautiful shimmer to the floral patterns of the upholstery. I am kneeling on the plush rug at Grandmother’s feet, my fingers steady as I adjust the brim of her favorite silk hat. She is insistent
A lace dress with a mid thigh high slit, plunging neckline and open back, is probably inappropriate for a funeral. But it's black, so I guess that should make up for it. I step out of my car, looking through my little net veil at the crowd gathered for Mr Newton's funeral. As a billionaire, he h







