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Author: Kirizu
last update Huling Na-update: 2022-10-13 20:26:28

Dorman Sr. held a somber meeting attended by everyone in our firm. Afterward, tears dried on my cheeks. I held a damp tissue in my hand and dabbed my nose with it. We all loved Bohman, but knew he was secretive about his investigative work. I hated to think that he was killed working on my case, but that was the torturous truth.

A neighbor found Bohman in his loft apartment, sitting in a wooden chair, his ankles and his wrists bound with duct tape. They had cut out his eyes and then shot him execution-style in the center of his forehead. The murderer left a clear message. He had seen something that was meant for no one to see.

Bohman was probing Natasha Ivanka’s past and the Russian mafia in Chicago.

I wanted to dive.

Richard met me at Dorman, Wallace, & Edwards and gave me an affectionate embrace. Unspoken words hung in the air like a steamy breath in winter. Together we entered the conference room. With a stone cold expression and hands linked together at his belt, Erik waited in
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  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Leave

    The bed was still warm where Richard’s body had lain, but my lover was gone. In bare feet, I padded to the kitchen and found a pile of torn paper on the counter. Our dominant/submissive contract, in pieces. Beside it, a bright pink sticky-note—a love-note with his handwriting—stuck to the black granite counter. As a submissive, you have all the control. Love, Richard.He’d told me that before, and I never grasped the meaning. Yet when I thought of our relationship as a whole, I realized Richard gave me everything I ever needed. He gave me punishment when I asked for it. He gave me space when I—like a child having a temper tantrum—walked away from him. Through it all, he had been there for me in every way I needed. He loved me. And I loved him. Where do we go from here?I pulled up his number on my cell phone and dialed. The call went to voicemail, but I left a message. “Hey. Thanks for stopping by last night.” I didn’t know what to say. “I . . . uh, I wanted to see if you’ll go on a

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Kisses

    Natasha sat on the bed and leveled the rifle at me while I got a pair of jeans and a shirt out of my suitcase. He ripped them from my hand and threw them into the closet. “Where is the dress I sent to you? The one you wore at the fundraiser.”I snarled, “I threw it in the trash.” “A shame. Find something else. Something nice!”I held up a sleeveless black dress and he seemed satisfied. I dressed behind the closed bathroom door then put on a pair of black high heels.Natasha’s beady eyes followed me like a coyote seeking fresh prey. “Where is your diamond collar?”I’d left it here the last time I returned to Chicago. The black velvet box sat on top of the dresser still. Natasha saw where my gaze landed and prodded me with the rifle. “Wear it.” I clipped the necklace around my throat as Natasha came to my side to examine the jeweled collar. My shoulder. My hair. His touch sickened me. He clasped his hand around my throat and squeezed. “He marked you with this. He thinks he owns you.

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Return

    He said he’d be there for me when I returned. Since the weekend trip was short, I packed a small bag that included a bathing suit, change of clothes and one sheath dress for dinner the night before my dive. On the late-night two-hour flight from Chicago to Burlington, Vermont, I perused Google’s list of top sights near Lake Champlain. I’d never before been to South Burlington, where American history and museums abounded. My finger hovered over the link to the Church Street Marketplace—an outdoor shopping mall that stretched four blocks. It brought to mind the horrific day Roman was kidnapped. I shut my laptop and lay my head back on the headrest. I envied the woman sleeping across the aisle from me. Her deep breathing sounded peaceful. That kind of contentment felt out of my reach.At seven-thirty last night, Greg had driven me to The Office Bar, where I met with Charlie Reid for a much needed pep-talk. She walked me through a plan to help Bohdi Michaels avoid the twenty-year priso

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   The floor

    I spent a week in Chicago, visiting Roman and diving into work. I avoided Richard because I needed time to think things through. Richard said he loved me. He’d done everything in his power to help find Roman. Then he donated the one million dollars to the battered women’s shelter.I needed to go to him. I needed to see if he could give me what I wanted.I stepped into the dimly lit Lake Forest house with my agenda at the forefront of my mind. With the FBI team gone, an unusual sense of quiet had settled over the house. Security guards hung around quietly minding their own business, yet ever watchful.The scar on my leg ached. I dropped my things in the bedroom and went to the one place where my dark fantasy could be realized. Where the security guards would not be. The dungeon. In the basement, I pushed open the unlocked door to Richard’s playroom. As if he’d been expecting me, red nightlights on two walls cast long shadows of the X-rack and a coffin-sized cage. My eyes adjusted, an

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Black

    A heavy-set man in a black suit opened the tall glass doors of Red Lace Escort Service for us. I recognized him as the man who—weeks earlier—handed me the titanium business card with Bohdi’s number. He pulled back his jacket and showed us his pistol. I followed Richard into the brightly lit office, where two other thugs were waiting. One stood near the office door with his automatic rifle in hand. One had been reclining on the fuchsia loveseat and when we walked in he sat up at attention, pointing his Uzi our way. I had left my Browning with Greg. Curbelo had outfitted us both with bullet-proof vests. The heavy armor made my breathing shallow. I wore the micro-transmitter—a necklace that looked like a tear-drop pendant—because Curbelo was afraid Richard would be frisked.“Ms. Robert,” the heavy man said. “’Dis way.” He pointed to the hall that lead to Angelique’s office but didn’t follow us. I understood now that the organization wanted me to represent Bohdi because they didn’t think

  • The Billionare's Pretend Wife   Overnight

    Fy scorched me inside. If Richard knew something about Roman’s disappearance, he’d have hell to pay. Once we arrived at Lake Forest, I flew around the house looking for him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was Grant. The empty black leather desk chair in his office faced the window as if watching for someone to return.Two at a time, I leapt up the stairs and opened the Kendo room door—hushed quiet. I exited quickly. Down the hall to my left, Richard’s stark bedroom. I swung the door wide and let it crash into the wall behind it. Benjamin Kyle stared back at me.“Richard?” I called.No answer. Frustrated and angry, I backed out of the room and right into Jonathan’s arms.“Thena. I—”“What the hell, Richard?” I backed away from him and faced him head on. “This is your fault!” I was furious. I was frightened. I was losing control.“I’m so sorry.” Richard didn’t say a word in his defense. He looked me in the eye. “I’m calling FBI Agent Curbelo now. We need to inform her.” Richard already h

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