Beauty was the Ashford family law, and Freya Sinclair was beauty come to life—until an accident stole that title from her. Sold to the Ashfords for a bag of chips, Freya was forced into a marriage with their heir, Alexander Ashford, on her 18th birthday. Unloved and unwanted because of a scar, she endured years of rejection. Determined to reclaim her life, Freya takes a stand, only to be cast out by the family that never wanted her. Homeless and disowned, she crosses paths with Sylus Thorn, a world-renowned fashion designer and enigmatic billionaire. Just when Freya believes she can start over, Alexander comes back to claim the wife he once discarded. “Do you have anything to say regarding your stepsisters’ affair with your husband?” Just when I thought I had no choice but to respond, a strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me out of the crowd. Startled, I looked up to see a tall, muscular man guiding me away with ease, his presence shielding me from the cameras and the reporters’ relentless questions. We reached a black car parked at the edge of the lot, and relief flooded through me. “Mr. Thorn,” I whispered, recognizing his familiar face. “Get in,” Sylus commanded, his voice calm but firm. Without hesitation, I climbed into the car, my heart racing from more than just the escape. Will Freya save her marriage to Alexander, or will she be swept off her feet by the mysterious Sylus Thorn? Join the MLCM Readers https://discord.gg/gEq2mCr574
"We're far from done here," he muttered, his voice thick with the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac.
I took a shaky breath, brushing past him as I headed for the door, trying to reclaim my space and some sense of control. But before I could take another step, Alexander's hand shot out, gripping mine, and pulling me back toward him.
He spun me around, his eyes locked onto mine, blazing with something raw and unfiltered. His hand found my waist, his hold firm as he brought me close, his mouth descending to mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
"I said, we're far from done here," he growled against my lips, his breath warm and rough.