LOGINVivienne Ashford gave her husband everything: her love, her company shares, and a home for his greedy family. In return, he called her "frigid" and "sterile." Then she learned the truth. Her husband's secretary was already pregnant with his child. Heartbroken and drunk, Vivienne storms into a private room at the city's most exclusive club. She points at the most dangerous man there and says, "I want to sleep with you tonight. Name your price." She did not know he was Don Roman Cavendish, the richest man in the country and the head of the most feared mafia. In the morning, she calls it a mistake and runs. But the Don never forgets what belongs to him. When she tries to destroy her cheating husband and take back her empire, Roman destroys her business partnerships to force a meeting. Then he makes her an offer: an 18-month contract marriage. "Run, little rabbit. I will always find you." Now Vivienne is trapped between a husband who refuses to let go and a Don who refuses to let her leave. Can she take back everything she lost? Can a contract marriage turn into real love? And when her cheating husband finally begs for forgiveness, will it be too late? A dark mafia romance about revenge, contract marriage, betrayal, and an obsessive Don who never lets go of his little rabbit.
View MorePOV: Vivienne AshfordDamon's lips curved into a wide, slow smile. Across the counsel table, Marcus Vance rested his hands flat over the black folder, his eyes fixed on the bench.Genevieve didn't sit down. She turned toward Judge Thorne, her posture rigid."Your Honor," Genevieve said, her voice steady. "Exhibit B is a timestamped access log showing door clearance into a private corridor. It records entry and exit times. It does not, and cannot, establish physical conduct within those rooms."Vance remained still, watching the judge."More importantly," Genevieve continued, stepping to the podium, "Mr. Pruitt's material breach of the marital contract—certified by the medical records of Miss Rowe's pregnancy dated last month—gave Ms. Ashford the right to recover the five percent share block. A subsequent access log does not erase that existing right.""Counsel is asking this court to ignore Section 82," Vance interjected smoothly, leaning forward. "The Family Code d
POV: Vivienne Ashford"The court recorder, Marcus Vance, and Damon," Genevieve said. "Vance uploaded the file to the family court docket ten minutes ago. Judge Thorne will have it on his screen the second our two o'clock hearing begins."I stared at the black-and-white frame on my phone. Roman stood at the threshold of the open iron gates, his arm extended. The matte-black phone sat in his hand. My own hand reached toward it."Look at the distance between your knuckles and his," Genevieve said, tapping the glass. "Two inches of empty space. He's handing you an object, not touching you.""Vance doesn't care about two inches," I said. "He's spinning it as a secret meeting.""Which is why he's invoking Section 82." She snapped her portfolio shut. "If he convinces Judge Thorne you were in a covert relationship, he can freeze our clawback claim. The five percent stays in Damon's name while the case drags out.""Can he win that?""Not if I tear the photo apart in front o
POV: Vivienne AshfordI turned on the third stair, not waiting to see if he followed."Vivienne!" Damon's footsteps slapped heavy against the marble. He lunged up the first two steps, his hand reaching for my coat sleeve. "You don't get to walk away from me when my accounts are frozen! Who did this?"I didn't flinch. I stepped back half a pace, letting his fingers catch empty air."Step back, Damon." My voice didn't rise a fraction. "You are in this house solely under Article 14 of the Family Code. Touch me again, and I'll have security remove you for physical harassment."His jaw worked, a muscle twitching beside his mouth as his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. His breath rattled in his chest under the navy silk of his bathrobe. "You think you're untouchable because you hold thirty percent of the company? I'm still your husband. If you had a hand in freezing my accounts—""I don't own the banks in Westbridge," I said, meeting his bloodshot eyes with
POV: Vivienne Ashford"Either you come down to my car right now... or I walk inside and drag your husband out by his collar."Roman's ultimatum still echoed in my ears.I stared through the study window at the three black SUVs parked beyond the iron gates. Don Roman Cavendish stood beside the lead vehicle, his phone pressed to his ear, waiting for my answer.He wasn't bluffing.A man with his influence didn't need to raise his voice to make a threat sound real."Don't go anywhere," I said."I wasn't planning to."I ended the call, grabbed my dark wool trench coat and slipped out of the study.The estate was silent as I hurried down the east wing corridor. When I reached the main staircase, my eyes drifted towards the closed doors of the west wing guest suite.Damon was in there.The thought of him sleeping under my mother's roof still made my stomach turn. But I wasn't about to let Roman turn my home into the scene of a confrontation.I unlocked the front door and step
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