Bought The Billionaire For One Night

The cold air of the JFK parking garage bit into Chloe Carr's skin, but she didn't care. She clutched the small velvet box in her coat pocket, her fingers tracing the familiar shape of the watch inside. It was the week before their wedding. Brennen had been working so hard lately, and she wanted to surprise him.

She spotted his car parked in the far corner. The windows were tinted dark, almost black against the harsh fluorescent lights. A smile pulled at her lips. She quickened her pace, her rolling bag bumping over the uneven concrete. She wanted to see his face when she knocked on the window.

As she got closer, the car was rocking. A subtle, rhythmic motion. A sound drifted through the cracked window. A breathless gasp. A low moan.

Chloe stopped dead in her tracks. Her stomach dropped, a sickening lurch that made her taste the cheap airline coffee she had drank hours ago. Her fingers tightened around the velvet box until the hinges dug painfully into her palm.

She didn't want to look. Her feet were glued to the oil-stained concrete, but her hand reached out. She grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.

The overhead light clicked on, illuminating the interior like a stage. Brennen's pants were around his ankles. Kate Norton, her best friend, her maid of honor, was straddling him, her skirt hiked up to her waist. Kate's head snapped around, her eyes wide. She screamed, a high-pitched shriek that echoed in the concrete cavern. She scrambled, pulling her shirt down, her face a mask of panic.

Brennen looked up, his lips smeared with Kate's signature red lipstick. "Chloe!" He gasped, pushing Kate off him. "It's not what it looks like!"

The words hung in the cold air. Chloe's blood turned to ice water in her veins. She stared at them, at the tangled limbs, at the guilty shock on their faces. The world narrowed down to the red smear on his mouth.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She pulled the velvet box from her pocket and hurled it at his face. It hit him square on the nose with a satisfying crack. The watch spilled out, falling into the footwell next to Kate's discarded shoe.

Chloe turned and ran. She didn't look back, even when she heard Brennen shouting her name, even when she heard Kate crying. She threw her bags into the back of her own car and peeled out of the garage, the tires squealing against the concrete.

She drove blind, tears blurring the lights of the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. She didn't go to her apartment. She couldn't stand the thought of her own bed. She found herself in Manhattan, pulling up to a velvet rope outside a building with no sign. Elysium.

Aisling had joked about this place once. "If you ever want to forget, go there. The men are like works of art. And they come with a price tag."

Chloe needed to forget. She needed