Owned by the Billionaire's Heart
"You hate that your body surrenders to me even when your pride begs you to fight."
"I hate you," I whispered, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
Dante let out a low, soft laugh—a rich, dangerous sound that vibrated through my chest. He released my jaw, stepping back and smoothing down the front of his slate-gray shirt.
"Hate me all you want, Elena," he said, walking toward the study door and resting his hand on the heavy brass handle. "As long as you remember who owns you when the sun goes down."
He opened the door, stepping out into the grand hallway of the penthouse, leaving me sitting alone amidst the scattered documents, the scent of cedar and sex, and the cold, unyielding reality of t