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Chapter 42: Masks in Paris
Last Updated:
2025-09-03 18:16:29
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Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 46: After the Storm.
The morning after the storm didn’t arrive with thunder or with the dramatic sweep of lightning across Manhattan’s skyline.It came with something much smaller, softer and almost ordinary.The steady ticking of Sherry’s wall clock in the kitchen. The faint scent of orange blossoms drifted through the cracked-open window and the quiet weight of Enzo Blackwood sleeping on her couch, like a king stripped of his throne and exiled to something far less ceremonial than velvet chairs or mahogany boardrooms.She stood barefoot in her kitchen, wrapped in a robe that had once belonged to her mother, staring at the mug of coffee in her trembling hands. She hadn’t taken a sip yet. The steam curled upward like smoke from a fire she wasn’t ready to put out.She couldn’t stop looking at him.He hadn’t stirred once since she’d draped the blanket across his chest the night before. Enzo Blackwood, the man who had ruled rooms with a glance, who had made titans bend and lovers burn, looked strangely boyis
Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 45: The Reckoning of Desire.
The studio lights were merciless. They weren’t built for intimacy, for the fragile kind of honesty that tasted like blood in the back of your throat. They were built to strip, to expose and to burn away whatever shadows you tried to hide beneath.And tonight, Sherry Hart walked willingly into the fire.She sat straight-backed in the steel-gray chair, a red silk blouse draping elegantly against her shoulders and black slacks tailored sharp enough to cut. Her makeup was precise, her hair pinned into a sleek twist, every detail curated not for vanity, but for armor, because when the world wanted to destroy you, the smallest crack was all it needed to strike.Across from her sat Richard Lane, America’s most notorious interviewer. His reputation stretched across decades of political assassinations disguised as interviews, of corporate titans unraveling under his questions, of movie stars crumbling into apologies. He was known for his cruelty, his surgical precision and his refusal to let a
Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 44: The Woman Behind the Name.
The safe deposit box was hidden beneath marble and time. Inside a midtown Manhattan bank, cold and old enough to predate both her fashion house and her shame, Sherry stepped into the private vault room. The manager handed her a small brass key, the kind that felt ceremonial in her palm. She opened the drawer.Inside: a black leather-bound journal, a USB drive and a faded envelope with her name handwritten in her father’s curling script. She felt sad, immediately remembering her deceased parents now.SherryHer breath caught. She touched the paper as if it might crumble. Or like she might.The seal broke with a whisper.“If you are reading this, it means I failed to protect you from the truth I spent half my life hiding.”Back at her apartment, she spread the contents out like pieces of a broken map.The USB drive was labeled "Personal."The … PersonalThe journal? A log of financial transactions and handwritten notes, documenting everything from hidden deals to business lunches with m
Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 43: Breaking the Surface.
The jet touched down in New York just after sunset. The city sprawled beneath them like a restless beast, its towers glinting with indifferent light, streets already alive with horns and voices, a pulse that didn't soften for anyone. To Sherry, it felt less like homecoming and more like sentencing. New York didn't embrace you when you fell; it devoured you. Tonight, it greeted her like a judge in a black robe, cold, formal and unbothered by pleas for mercy.The second her heels hit the tarmac, the weight of the headlines pressed down on her shoulders. She was no longer walking onto familiar ground. She was walking into a courtroom where the verdict had already been written.By the time the convoy of cars pulled into Midtown, the world had already sharpened its knives.The first reporter broke from the barricade before the car had fully stopped. His voice cut through the night, eager and greedy."Ms. Hart! Do you have any comment about falsifying corporate evidence?"Another shoved for
Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 42: Masks in Paris
The Paris air was different. It didn’t beg for attention the way New York’s sharp and ruthless pulse did. It whispered and also seduced. It draped itself across the skin like silk, promising beauty at a price. This city didn’t shout its worth. It knew it. It calculated every glance, every step and every stolen breath. Paris was a lover you could never fully trust but could never stop craving.The black town car rolled to a stop at the base of the Palais Garnier, its gilded façade glowing like fire under the lamplight. Sherry’s hand rested lightly on the door handle, her pulse steadying itself into something that felt almost like defiance.She stepped out, heels striking cobblestone in a sharp, deliberate rhythm, the sound of warning and the prelude to war.Her gown was red. Not crimson, not ruby, but blood red.The silk clung to her curves like temptation made fabric, slit high enough to scandalize, the back plunging low enough to silence. Every seam had been sewn for impact. Every in
Bound by the Billionaire's Relentless Desire. Chapter 41: Ultimatums and Echoes
The walls of Blackwood Industries pulsed with silence not the stillness of peace but the strained, suffocating silence that came after an explosion but before the dust had fully settled.The executive boardroom gleamed under recessed lights, its long obsidian table polished to the point of reflection. Enzo stood at its head, his posture carved from stone, black suit jacket buttoned like armor. Around him, the board members sat in silence, vultures dressed in tailored fabric worth the price of small countries. Their expressions were sharp and calculating, like predators who smelled blood in the water.The room smelled of polished wood, expensive cologne and something sour beneath, the quiet rot of betrayal.Sherry was nowhere in sight and Enzo told himself that was better.The head of Legal, a wiry man with silver-framed glasses and eyes too sharp to ever belong to a loyal ally, braced his palms against the glass wall that overlooked the city. He cleared his throat and began to read fro
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