Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
"S-Stop turning me on," she moaned.
A sadistic smile curved over his lips. "Never, baby girl."
She had no chance to answer yet again, with his fingers slipping inside of her mouth as he thrust harder and deeper into her.
Oh yes, Tassy thought dazedly. We could make this work very, very hard—-I mean, well, indeed.
ONE MONTH LATER
"We just received a call from the hospital, Mr. Young," Milton reported. "Dr. Chen says Mrs. Young's surgery was a complete success, and results have exceeded all expectations."
"And the burns?"
"There will be no disfigurement," Milton was eager to assure his boss. "In a month's time, there won't be any visible scarring at all. It's as if the fire - and the accident - never happened." Milton's voice awkwardly trailed off at the way his boss's penetrating gaze narrowed. As expected of the great Benedict Young, Milton thought in a mixture of awe and dread. The billionaire had an almost supernatural ability to sense when something was amiss.
It was just too bad that the only time his boss hadn't seen through a person's lies was when he married his wife.
Milton shoved the thought away as quickly as it had surfaced. Stop thinking of Mrs. Young that way, you idiot!
"Milton?"
The thread of impatience in his boss's voice had Milton hastily completing his report.
Please inform Mr. Young that he should expect a slight change in his wife's appearance. This cannot be helped, unfortunately.
Milton took pains to relay Dr. Chen's warning verbatim, but his boss's chiseled features remained unreadable.
"Is that all?"
"Yes, sir."
"Contact Dr. Chen. Let him know I'll be assigning our own security detail outside my wife's room. No one's to speak to her without my approval."
Benedict waited until his assistant's footsteps receded before reaching for the report his security team had provided him.
Subject: Stella Tyler
Age: 25
Status: Single
Grantee ID: 08158
Aid provided: Juvenile records sealed and received funding to complete two-year course in Chapman Community College
Current Employment: Hotel Regalia, executive room attendant, two years to present
Family History
Father: Irving Tyler, deceased (workplace accident, 20 years prior)
Mother: Pippi Tyler, primary income is late husband's pension, known history of substance abuse, pattern of relationships with younger men with criminal backgrounds, currently admitted in an undisclosed rehabilitation clini,
Incident Report:
1. Subject sustained facial injuries defending mother from assault of current partner (Ripley Echols, 31, unemployed, prior conviction for burglary)
2. Subject admitted to Cliff Thompson Medical Center (facial trauma, possible concussion)
3. Fire outbreak at 3:16 AM resulting in massive structural damage and casualties. Surviving patients transferred to nearby medical facilities. Cause under investigation at time of report.
Benedict watched the document disappear strip by strip into the shredder. The woman described in the sterile bullet points was the antithesis of Lana, whose delicate beauty masked a viper's soul.
When he had first met Lana, she had ticked all the boxes for him, and it was no wonder she did. Everything he knew of her was a lie. Lana had simply studied him like he was a subject to be mastered, and Lana's equivalent to a diploma was his ring on her finger.
Even though five years had already passed, bitterness and rage still burned inside Benedict whenever he found himself recalling how expertly Lana had maneuvered him into marrying her without a prenup. Since then, she had taken pleasure in making his life a livil hell. But for the sake of the thousands he had in his employ, not once had Benedict even considered divorcing her.
She was his lifelong curse.
Or so Benedict had thought.
Until now.
The limousine glided to a stop at the hospital's private entrance, and Milton could only watch in silent awe as his boss handled the intrusive presence of the paparazzi with cold-blooded ease.
Standing six-foot-five and with a powerful frame sculpted by years of professional-level training in martial arts, Benedict Young was a terrifying force of nature that commanded instant silence from the crowd. Milton could see the desperate questions dying on reporters' lips, and all they could do was frantically snap photos as the billionaire strode by.
Inside the hospital, his boss continued to command attention and cause chaos, but this time of a different kind. A nurse almost walked into a locked supply closet, having lost herself in the cerulean gaze of his boss (which Milton himself admitted was rather magnetic). A woman at the coffee machine jumped at the sight of the billionaire, and Milton could only wince as he watched coffee spill on her nerveless fingers. (How long would it take for her to realize she had burned herself?)
Same old, same old, Milton thought with a mental shake of his head. How long would it take for women to realize that Benedict Young would never fall for such tricks?
Oblivious to the disruption his mere presence had caused, Benedict's attention was fixed solely on his destination. It was the largest and most expensive suite in the hospital, and listed on the digital screen next to the door was the name of the attending physician and the patient.