Claimed by the billionaire
he said, his voice low, insistent, his eyes locked on mine.
I clutched the laptop tighter, my anger boiling over. “How about you tell me what you’ve been up to? Coming home late, hiding in your study for hours, barely spending time with me or Hope. Tell me what’s pulling you away from us!” My voice cracked, raw with fear and frustration. He’s hiding something—maybe my father was right. Killer. Thief. The words burned in my mind, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. He told me he never killed before, but it was a lie. He lied. He lied to me.
He stepped back, caught off guard by my outburst, his brows furrowing.