Flash marriage with the billionaire enemy
I grab a bottle of water, twist the cap off, and take a few gulps.
It doesn’t help. The pain is growing, sharp, persistent, like something is trying to claw its way out of my mind.
I close the fridge door slowly. That’s when I hear it.
Footsteps.
Steady. Heavy. Familiar.
I turn and see him.
Cassian.
Standing in the glow of the open pantry door, wearing dark sweats and a plain black T-shirt, hair slightly disheveled like he’s been working late or trying and failing to sleep.