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Healed By The Ruthless Billionaire's Touch Novel Cover

Healed By The Ruthless Billionaire's Touch

I secured the lifeline investment for my fiancé's company and went to his office to surprise him. Instead, I caught Preston sleeping with his top actress—the woman he publicly claimed as his stepsister. Through the cracked door, I heard him call me his "scarred, ugly bitch shield" to hide their sickening affair. I didn't cry. I hacked the live broadcast of the Star Awards and played their sex tape to two thousand people. But that night, drunk and reeling from the agonizing nerve pain in my facial scar, I stumbled into the wrong hotel penthouse. I was pinned down by a drugged billionaire, Josephus Hodges. The next morning, he left me a million-dollar check and a Plan B pill. When he later tracked me down to offer a cold, calculated fake marriage just to absorb Preston's ruined empire, I threw the contract at his chest and told him to go to hell. But when I got home and looked in the mirror, the chronic, burning torture in my scar was completely gone. His touch during that terrifying night had somehow cured the agony that had ruined my life. I had just declared war on the only man on earth who could heal me. Just then, my ruined ex-fiancé called, begging me to save him with a PR press conference. "I'll do it, but I control the venue." I booked it at Josephus's heavily guarded hotel. I was going to slaughter my ex on live television, and force the apex predator to look at me again.
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Chapter 5

Abigail stumbled closer to the leather sofa.

The city lights cast a pale glow over the man. He was wearing a bespoke charcoal suit, but the jacket was crumpled. His tie had been ripped away from his throat.

His chest heaved violently..Sweat coated his forehead, making his skin shine in the dark. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscles twitched.

Abigail dropped to her knees beside the sofa.

"Hey," she slurred softly. "Are you... do you need a doctor?"

She reached out. Her cool fingertips brushed against the burning skin of his neck, searching for a pulse.

The second her skin made contact with his, the man's eyes snapped open.

They were bloodshot. Wild. They lacked any trace of human reason. He looked like a starving wolf that had just been handed raw meat.

Josephus Hodges had spent the last hour fighting a losing battle. A rival firm had slipped a massive dose of a military-grade hallucinogenic aphrodisiac into his scotch at a merger dinner.

He had locked himself in the penthouse to ride it out. His sanity was hanging by a microscopic thread.

Abigail's cold touch, combined with the faint scent of rosewater on her skin, snapped that thread instantly.

A low, animalistic growl ripped from his throat.

His hand shot out. His fingers clamped around Abigail's wrist like a steel vice.

Abigail gasped. The pain was sharp and immediate.

Before she could pull away, Josephus yanked her forward. His strength was terrifying.

She flew through the air and crashed onto the leather cushions.

The world spun out of control. In a fraction of a second, Josephus's massive, heavy body was on top of her, pinning her down.

The alcohol in Abigail's system evaporated, replaced by cold, blinding terror.

"Let me go!" she screamed. She thrashed wildly beneath him, her hands pushing against his rock-hard chest.

Josephus didn't hear her. The drug had completely hijacked his nervous system. All he felt was the agonizing heat in his blood and the soft, cool body beneath him that promised relief.

He buried his face in her neck. His breath was scalding hot against her skin. The heavy scent of cedar and pure male aggression suffocated her.

His large hands moved with brutal urgency. He grabbed the fabric of her black gown.

With one violent pull, the expensive silk tore down the middle.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed loudly in the dark room.

The cold leather of the sofa hit Abigail's bare back.

Panic consumed her. She swung her free hand and slapped him across the face with all the strength she had.

The sharp smack rang out.

Josephus froze. His head snapped to the side.

For one agonizing second, the red haze in his eyes cleared. He looked down at the terrified woman trembling beneath him. His chest heaved as he fought his own biology.

"Get... out," he ground out through his teeth. His voice was a harsh, agonizing rasp.

Abigail scrambled backward, desperate to escape.

But as she kicked her legs to push away, her knee jerked upward. It slammed directly into his groin.

It wasn't a hard hit, but the physical friction was the final trigger.

Josephus let out a sharp hiss. The brief window of clarity slammed shut.

His eyes went completely black.

He grabbed both of her wrists in one massive hand and slammed them above her head, pressing them deep into the leather.

His other hand gripped her jaw, holding her head perfectly still.

He crashed his mouth down onto hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a punishment. It was a desperate, violent claiming.

He tasted like expensive scotch and pure dominance.

Abigail couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned for oxygen. The crushing weight of his body made it impossible to move.

Her struggles grew weaker as the lack of air and the lingering alcohol made her limbs go numb.

His hand slid down her ribcage, burning a trail of fire across her skin.

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