Chapter 1 Wicked Agreement

• "Let me guess, Megan," Casian whispered, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against her ear. "You slipped something into my grandfather’s soup to get this will signed, didn't you? A love potion? Or did you just offer him the same pathetic innocence you’re trying to sell me right now?"
• "Let go of me, Casian!" Megan gasped.
• The darkness of the private rest line at the Manhattan funeral parlor was suffocating. Casian’s massive frame had her completely pinned against the wall. His heavy thighs were wedged deeply between hers, forcing her hips forward until she could feel the raw, hard heat of his desire pressing dangerously against her lower belly.
• "Let you go?" Casian sneered, his breath hot and smelling of expensive whiskey as it fanned her neck. He pinned both of her wrists above her head with one iron grip. "When you just stole seventy percent of Morello Holdings from under my nose? Not a chance, sweetheart."
• "It was Arthur’s choice!" Megan cried out, her chest heaving, her nipples rubbing frictionally against the fine silk of his waistcoat. A treacherous, electric ache flared at her core, her body traitorously responding to his dominant weight. "I didn't ask for his money!"
• "Liars don't get to talk back," Casian growled.
• He lowered his head, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her jawline with a brutal, hungry intensity that made her toes curl. His free hand slid under her blazer, his rough thumb tracing the curve of her waist, squeezing tight enough to leave a mark.
• "Tell me the truth, Megan," he murmured against her skin, his thumb sliding up to press firmly against her lower lip, forcing her mouth open. "How much do you want to sign the refusal papers? A million? Five million? Name your price for your little Brooklyn gold-digger heart."
• Megan swallowed hard, staring defiantly into the hazel eyes that burned with absolute fury and unbridled lust through the shadows.
• "The lawyer already read the terms, Casian," Megan whispered, a provocative smile suddenly curving her lips despite her rapid breathing. "Seventy percent of the empire stays with me—unless you marry me within thirty days."
• Casian’s jaw hardened, his hand on her neck tightening slightly, anchoring her in place. "You think I’d actually touch a snake like you?"
• "You're touching me right now," Megan taunted, arching her hip slightly against his hard length, sending a jolt of tension through his rigid posture. "And judging by your heartbeat, Mr. Wall Street Tycoon, you don't seem to hate it as much as you claim."
• Casian let out a low, dangerous chuckle, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You want to play with fire, Megan? Fine. I’ll give you the ring. But inside my penthouse, you will learn exactly what happens to foxes who trap a lion."
• "Is that a threat, Casian?"
• "It’s a promise," Casian hissed, suddenly releasing her wrists and stepping back into the light filtering through the door. He adjusted his cuffs, his cold corporate mask instantly returning. "My lawyers will bring the prenup tomorrow morning. Sign it, or I will destroy your career before the wedding bells even ring."
• Megan straightened her disheveled clothes, her skin still tingling from his touch, but her gaze remained sharp and deadly.
• "I’ll sign it," Megan said softly, stepping closer until she was inches away from his face. "But don't get too comfortable on your throne, husband. Because a chef knows exactly how to ruin a king’s appetite."
• Casian froze, his hand stopping dead on the doorknob as he glared back at her. "Are you threatening to poison me?"
• Megan smiled, her eyes flashing with a cold, unbreakable defiance. "Why don't you take the first bite tomorrow and find out?"