Ninety Days Left: The Dying Wife's Revenge

Tessa pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the penthouse suite at The Plaza Hotel. She wore the black silk slip dress, the fabric clinging to her chilled skin. The thick, plush carpet absorbed the sound of her heels as she stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit by flickering wall sconces. She walked straight to the crystal decanter on the wet bar and poured a generous measure of dark whiskey into a glass. Her wrist trembled slightly.

She opened her clutch and pulled out a small foil packet containing a mix of antidepressants and a mild hallucinogen Lily had secured for her anxiety months ago. She tossed the pills into her mouth and washed them down with the burning liquor. The fire traveled down her throat, settling in her chest.

The chemical reaction hit her bloodstream faster than she anticipated. The edges of the room began to blur and sway. Her knees buckled. She stumbled forward, her hands reaching out blindly until she collapsed onto the edge of the massive king-sized bed.

Down the hall, the elevator doors chimed and slid open. Lucian stepped out. The air around him seemed to freeze.

His assistant, Zane, hurried to keep pace with his long strides. Zane held a tablet, his voice low and urgent. "The black card charge originated from this floor, sir. Suite 808."

A muscle feathered along Lucian's jawline. His dark eyes were fixed on the door at the end of the corridor.

Around the corner, a tall man in a tailored suit was adjusting his bowtie, preparing to knock on the door of Suite 808. Jax, the agency's top earner.

Lucian did not slow down. He closed the distance in three strides, grabbed Jax by the lapels of his jacket, and slammed him backward against the silk-lined wallpaper.

Jax let out a choked gasp, his hands coming up to defend himself. Lucian drove his fist directly into the man's stomach. The sickening thud echoed in the quiet hallway. Jax folded in half, dropping to his knees, gasping for air.

Zane stepped forward smoothly, pinning the escort to the floor. He reached into Jax's jacket pocket, extracted the magnetic keycard, and handed it to Lucian.

Lucian took the card. His chest heaved with suppressed rage. His wife was inside that room, waiting for another man. The thought made his blood roar in his ears.

Zane opened the silver briefcase he had been carrying, revealing a pre-molded portable mask applicator. Lucian snatched the device from him. He turned his back to the hallway cameras, pressing his face into the contoured mold. Within five seconds, the thin, high-polymer silicone mask adhered seamlessly to his jawline and cheekbones, altering the sharp angles of his face into something entirely different. He quickly attached the micro voice-changer to his throat, adjusting the collar of his shirt to conceal it.

He swiped the keycard against the electronic lock. The light flashed green. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The heavy door clicked shut behind him, cutting off the noise of the hallway. The scent of expensive roses and Tessa's familiar vanilla perfume hit his senses.

He walked slowly toward the bedroom area. The only light came from the city glowing through the rain-streaked windows.

Tessa was curled on her side in the center of the bed. The thin strap of her black dress had slipped down her shoulder, exposing the pale curve of her collarbone.

Lucian's breathing hitched. He reached up and violently yanked his tie loose, tossing it onto the floor.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed onto the bed. He hovered over her, his large frame casting a dark shadow across her body.

Tessa opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated from the drugs. The room was spinning, and the man above her was just a broad, imposing silhouette.

She reached up. Her skin was burning hot. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. She murmured a soft, incoherent sound of approval.

The fact that she was welcoming a stranger shattered the last of Lucian's control. He lowered his head and captured her lips. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a punishment. His teeth scraped against her lower lip, tasting the faint trace of blood she had drawn earlier.

Tessa let out a small whimper of pain, but she did not push him away. Instead, her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

His large hands slid down her bare back, the rough pads of his fingers sending violent shivers down her spine. As he leaned over her, an unfamiliar, aggressive scent of juniper and dark leather filled her senses, completely masking Lucian's usual crisp cedar cologne. The foreign aroma confirmed her hazy assumption that this was the stranger she had paid for. Her body reacted entirely on instinct, arching into his touch.

The sound of the thunderstorm outside masked the heavy breathing in the room. The temperature spiked.

Tessa's hands moved upward, trying to touch his face. Lucian caught both of her wrists in one hand. He pinned her arms above her head, pressing them firmly into the mattress. He could not risk her feeling the edges of the silicone mask.

His movements were demanding and possessive. He wanted to brand her, to erase the thought of any other man from her mind.

Tessa squeezed her eyes shut. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, sliding down her temple into her hair. The physical overload drowned out the pain in her organs, leaving only a chaotic mix of agony and release.

Hours later, the drugs and exhaustion finally pulled Tessa into a deep, dreamless sleep. Lucian sat on the edge of the bed in the dark. He stared down at her bruised lips and the tear tracks on her cheeks. His hands were curled into tight fists resting on his knees.