The Commander's Obsession for His Heiress

motorcycle engine tore through the

ires skidded against the pavement, stopping inche

stepped forward. Their hands dropped to their belts

ached up with one hand and pulle

ealing her sharp, indifferent eyes a

recognized her face. He sucked in a sharp breath and quickly grabb

hung her helmet on the handlebar and

vel of the manor's main driveway. Each step was

e doors and pushed them open, stepping

delicate laugh echoed. Serafina was showing off h

t through the hallway and locked de

blood ruby necklace. It belonged to Jordan's dead mother

hick, suffocating aura of pure, battlefi

ched straight into the sunken living room, he

ruder in the black leather motorcycle

ned her head. When she saw Jordan's face,

stood up, trying to put on the authoritative a

Like a cheetah released from a cage, Jordan crossed

violently slapped the teacup away. It sh

Serafina's haute couture dress

hard on the back of Serafina's neck. She shoved Seraf

r high heels clattered frantically against the har

arm with her manicured nails, but Jordan easily pinned

her thigh. Her fingers brushed her hidden holster.

into place. Jordan pressed the ice-cold steel d

pupils dilated in pure terror. Her entire body

was low, raspy, and carried

e it

e her pregnancy and her husband's name to force Jor

r wrist. The razor-sharp blade easily sliced through a

table. Serafina's psychological defenses shatt

hind her neck. She clumsily fumbled with the clas

eavily worn photograph of a frail patient hooked to a maze of hospital ventilators. Her thumb brushed the blurry face with a rare, fleeting gentleness. Hold on just a little longer. I am so close to getti

op the knif

from the entryway of the living r

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