The Billionaire’s Twisted Love
They sat down in front of me, their eyes gleaming with malevolent satisfaction.
“Good morning, Ariana Stone,” Reginald said, his voice dripping with mockery. “It's a beautiful day isn't it?”
I looked at him, hatred, pure lethal hatred, coursing through my veins.
He signaled to the other man, who began tapping on the tablet. I watched, groggy and disoriented, as the screen was turned to face me.
Rob’s face filled the screen. My heart clenched painfully at the sight of him. He was standing beside a burnt, grotesque body, his expression twisted with anguish. Paramedics and a coroner hovered nearby, their faces grim.
Bab Populer