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The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
img img The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge img Chapter 7 7
7 Chapters
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
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 7 7

The Metropolitan Museum of Art was transformed. towering floral arrangements, endless champagne, the flashing lights of the paparazzi. Angelina smiled until her jaw ached. She held onto Brittain's arm, a perfect accessory in red silk.

They were seated at a prime table. When Angelina saw the place cards, a chill ran down her spine. Harrison Juarez. Placed directly to her right. This was no accident. The seating chart was a declaration of war, and Harrison had fired the first shot.

He was wearing a tuxedo that fit him like a second skin. He didn't look at her when they sat down. He was talking to a senator, charming and dangerous.

Dinner was served. Brittain was droning on about his yacht. Angelina kept her hands in her lap, staring at her salad.

"Mrs. Kane," Harrison said suddenly.

She looked up. He was holding a bread basket. "Roll?"

"No, thank you," she said.

"You should eat," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "You need your strength."

Under the table, something brushed against her knee.

Angelina jumped slightly. Brittain looked at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Static."

Harrison took a sip of his wine, his face a mask of polite disinterest. But under the long tablecloth, his hand moved. It slid up her calf, warm and rough against her skin. His fingers hooked around the back of her knee.

Angelina stopped breathing. They were surrounded by hundreds of people. Brittain was right there.

Harrison's hand moved higher, his thumb tracing circles on the inside of her thigh.

"So, Brittain," Harrison said, his voice smooth, "how is the merger going?"

Brittain launched into a monologue. Harrison nodded, pretending to listen, while his hand inched higher, teasing the hem of her dress.

Angelina gripped her fork so hard it bent. She couldn't move. If she pulled away, she'd make a scene.

Harrison squeezed her thigh firmly, once, then withdrew his hand.

He raised his glass to her. A silent toast.

Angelina grabbed her water glass and drained it. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she might pass out. This wasn't just revenge. This was madness.

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