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No Escape: The Billionaire Won't Sign
img img No Escape: The Billionaire Won't Sign img Chapter 9 9
9 Chapters
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 9 9

Martha Anderson opened her eyes three hours later.

She was in a private suite with a view of the East River.

Beatrix was holding her hand.

"Mom," she sobbed. "You're okay."

Martha smiled weakly. She pulled the oxygen mask down.

"Bea," she rasped. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Carlyle. I heard his voice."

Beatrix hesitated. "He's... he's outside."

"Bring him in."

"Mom, you need to rest."

"Bring him in," Martha insisted, her grip surprisingly strong. "Please."

Beatrix went to the door.

Carlyle was sitting on a plastic chair in the hallway, reading emails on his phone.

He looked up.

"She wants to see you."

Carlyle stood up. He buttoned his coat.

He walked into the room.

His demeanor changed instantly.

The arrogance vanished. The coldness melted.

He walked to the bed, his gaze fixed on Martha. Beatrix saw his hand clench into a fist at his side, just for a second, before he forced it to relax. He took Martha's hand gently, his touch careful, deliberate.

"Hello, Martha," he said softly.

"Carlyle," she whispered. "You came."

"Of course I came."

Martha looked at him, her eyes cloudy but serious.

"I know I don't have long."

"Don't say that," Beatrix interrupted.

"Hush, Bea." Martha looked at Carlyle. "I need to know... I need to know she'll be safe."

She squeezed his hand.

"The people who hated her father... they are still out there. Promise me, Carlyle."

Beatrix's eyes widened.

She shook her head frantically at Carlyle.

Don't do it. Don't lie to her.

Carlyle saw Beatrix's panic.

He looked back at the dying woman.

"Promise me you will take care of her," Martha begged. "Promise me you won't let her fall."

Carlyle took a deep breath.

He gripped Martha's hand with both of his.

"I promise," he said, his voice steady and solemn. "As long as I breathe, no one will hurt her. She will always be under my protection."

Martha let out a long sigh of relief.

"Good," she whispered. "My good boy."

She closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.

Beatrix felt like she couldn't breathe.

She followed Carlyle out into the hallway.

"How could you?" she hissed. "We are getting divorced next week! Why would you give her false hope?"

Carlyle leaned against the wall.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

He put one in his mouth but didn't light it.

"Would you rather she died worrying?" he asked.

"It's a lie!"

"Is it?" Carlyle looked at her. "I said I'd protect you. I didn't say I'd stay married to you."

"You're playing word games with a dying woman!"

"I'm giving her peace," he said. "Something you seem incapable of doing."

His phone rang.

Beatrix saw the screen. Gene.

Carlyle looked at it.

He silenced it.

Then he powered the phone off.

Beatrix stared at him.

"She's calling you."

"I know."

"Why did you turn it off?"

Carlyle sat back down on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

"Because I promised your mother I'd stay," he said. "And I don't break promises."

"You're staying?" Beatrix asked, stunned. "Here? All night?"

"Go to sleep, Beatrix," he said, closing his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Beatrix watched him.

He looked exhausted.

He looked... noble.

It was confusing. It was infuriating.

She went back into the room and curled up on the visitor cot.

But she kept the door cracked open, watching the sliver of his shadow on the hallway floor.

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