Perched sixty-three stories above Manhattan, the Mercer Tower exuded intimidation, steel, and glass. Naturally, Aria had seen it before. Everybody had. The way it caught the afternoon sun and threw light across the city like a challenge made it impossible to miss. She never thought she would be in it. I never would have guessed that she would be here as Leon Mercer's unintentional wife. It felt like an hour, even though the elevator ride took less than a minute. With one hand in his pocket and the other still gripping his phone, Leon stood stiffly next to her. During the drive, he had made three calls. They were all angry, short, and clipped. Aria tried to breathe normally while keeping her gaze on the increasing floor numbers. The spot on her wrist where he had grabbed her outside the marriage bureau was still tingling. Not because it was painful, no. Because his touch had been firm, warm, and utterly assured—the touch of a man who never questioned his right to take what he de
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