บททั้งหมดของ Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

I picked up my phone, silently blessing whoever was calling.But a hand snatched it away before I could see the caller ID.‘Hey!’ I protested.Cary tossed my phone onto the dining table behind him. I was trapped between the wall and his body, with nowhere to go.‘What if I said the contract could be modified?’‘What?’ I didn’t follow his train of thought.‘The contract. The terms. What if I said they can be changed?’I scoffed. ‘So, what, you want to add a clause that obliges me to buy you clothes?’ No, thank you.‘Not clothes.’ His voice had dropped, becoming low, thoughtful, and serious. ‘What if I removed the clause about no kissing?’I didn’t bother replying. He’d already shattered that rule the night he hauled me out of the club and shoved his tongue in my mouth.‘Or the clause about… no feelings?’I stared up at him, stunned. ‘I don’t understand.’‘What if I… allowed you to have feelings for me?’‘Allowed’ me?The sheer arrogance of the man.If he’d said this a year ago, or even

I’d messed up.It’s a hard thing to admit, even to myself, but I’d really messed up.When Hyacinth asked if I’d sent people to follow her because I didn’t trust her, I should have told her the truth instead of that lame-arsed excuse.The Abrams family’s connections on both sides of the law weren’t just a rumour. It was a fact. Armond Abrams wouldn’t think twice about breaking the so-called rules if he found out Hyacinth had hurt his precious little sister.With that threat hanging over her, how could I NOT keep a close watch?But when I looked into her angry, defiant eyes, my own fucking pride stopped me from telling her.She wouldn’t have believed me anyway.The mocking scorn in her laugh when I suggested modifying the contract… it cut me to the quick.I had to get out of that room before she saw just how much her rejection got to me.Was it really so fucking hard to believe I could have feelings like a normal person?My mother seemed to think so. In fact, she saw my supposed lack of

I drove out to my parents’ house.I hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when my phone rang.‘Were you taking a nap?’ Cary asked.It was a trick question, and we both knew it. Was it Jenna or Jo who had tattled to him?I tapped the car horn, a short, sharp beep, picturing him wincing and pulling the phone away from his ear.‘I’m driving,’ I said. ‘On my way to my parents’.’‘To drop off the suit?’Right. I’d told him I bought the suit for my dad. I glanced at the garment bag on the passenger seat. ‘…Yeah.’‘Give them my best,’ Cary said, and then he hung up.My parents lived in a modest house in the suburbs. Cary had offered to buy them a bigger place after we got married, but they had both refused.When I arrived, my father was out. Mum was surprised to see me. ‘It’s the middle of the week. Don’t you have work?’‘I took the day off. Just a bit of a cold coming on.’ I touched my throat for effect and gave a little fake cough.‘You don’t look after yourself properly. Your

I returned to my suite after my meeting with the MP.I drank a measure of the whisky exclusive to Kingfisher Park, allowing it to clear my head.Kai Parker, my business secretary, waited until I had finished the drink before asking, ‘What time would you like me to schedule the next meeting with Sir Donovan, boss?’I tapped a finger against the armrest. I felt no particular eagerness to meet with Donovan again.Having spent considerable time with the Wall Street crowd, I found the native London approach to business meetings a jarring contrast to the Americans’ fast, direct, and sometimes brash style.Matt Donovan, the MP, had devoted the first fifteen minutes entirely to rugby, as if it were somehow rude to launch straight into the deal. Despite this being our second meeting, no decision had been reached. He seemed to believe his inherited baronetcy not only guaranteed him the deal, but also entitled him to more than his fair share of the proceeds.‘Remind me again in a week,’ I said.K

Long strides, steady arms.I felt the warmth of those strong arms enveloping me, and a sense of calm, of safety, settled over me.I was placed gently into the back seat of a car.Whatever hellish drugs those bastards had given me were acting up again.I was burning up. Part of my body craved an outlet, a release, something to grind against.But my brain, the little part that remained clear, knew that was the effect of the drugs, that I shouldn’t give in.I didn’t want to lose my control and turn into the whore they wanted me to be.I used my weak fingers to pinch my thigh hard, using the sharp pain to force myself to stay conscious.But even if I could control the lust raging through me, I couldn’t control the tears.I was lying across his lap—I finally saw it was Lochlan Hastings who had saved me—and I couldn’t stop crying, my whole body racked with giant, wracking sobs.Multiple emotions warred within me: fear, wrath, relief, lust, gratitude. The conflict was overwhelming, and my bra