The Ruined Heiress Returns With His Heirs

Angelena's shoulder slammed hard against the textured wallpaper of the hotel corridor.

Her vision swam. The heavy, gold-leafed patterns on the walls blurred into dark, dizzying streaks. She bit down on her lower lip, tasting the sharp, metallic tang of her own blood. The sudden pain sent a brief, desperate shock of clarity to her drug-addled brain.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. The static crackle of a walkie-talkie hissed in the quiet corridor.

"Find her. She couldn't have gone far."

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm that made it hard to breathe. Her skin burned. A terrifying, unnatural heat was spreading through her veins, melting away her rationality.

She stumbled forward, her trembling hands dragging along the wall until she hit the cold, polished wood of a double door. It was slightly ajar.

Without thinking, Angelena pushed through the gap. She fell into the pitch-black entryway of the presidential suite. She scrambled to her knees, reached up, and slammed the heavy door shut, twisting the deadbolt until it clicked.

Her body gave out. She collapsed onto the thick carpet, her chest heaving.

Outside, a fist pounded against the wood.

"Open up!" a rough voice cursed.

Angelena clamped both hands over her mouth, suppressing a whimper. The drug was taking over completely now. Her breathing turned shallow and hot. Her fingertips felt numb.

"Who are you?"

The voice came from the darkness. It was low, freezing cold, and dripping with authority.

Angelena gasped, her head snapping up. Through the faint, silvery moonlight spilling from the floor-to-ceiling windows, she saw the towering silhouette of a man.

He stepped closer. The sheer physical pressure radiating from him made the air in the room feel suffocatingly thin. Angelena tried to scramble backward, but her limbs felt like lead.

Driven by pure survival instinct, her hand shot out. She grabbed the crisp fabric of his suit trousers.

"Help... me," she choked out.

The man stopped. He suffered from severe insomnia, and his patience was non-existent. He let out a low scoff of disgust. He bent down, his large, calloused fingers gripping her chin, fully intending to drag her out of his suite.

But the moment his skin touched hers, he froze.

She was burning up. And beneath the heat, a faint, incredibly unique medicinal fragrance drifted from her skin. It was a scent that instantly pierced through his raging headache, bringing a bizarre, sudden wave of calm to his frayed nerves.

The drug in Angelena's system reached its peak. She lost her mind.

Her arms flew up, wrapping tightly around the man's neck. She pulled herself against his solid chest, seeking relief from the fire consuming her.

The man's breath hitched. His initial resistance crumbled under the overwhelming assault of that soothing scent and her desperate heat.

Outside the window, a massive crack of thunder shook the glass. Lightning illuminated the room for a split second. They fell backward onto the massive velvet bed.

Pain tore through