Theron Bjornsson

Here, everything is for sale and nothing is forgiven. They are vultures at the very top of the American dump. But their gilded arrogance is drowned in its own scars: her childhood hurt, turned to poison; a daring drop on the dance floor; and a signature written by someone else over her will. The question isn't who will break first. The question is whose fall will be sweeter when the contract begins to smolder.

Usually, one glance was enough for a girl to spread her legs. But not this one. She survives through the pain in her joints and the dirt on the pavement. When their eyes meet, he realizes: the only thing harder than his cock right now is his. And the only thing more dangerous than her body is her complete indifference. She doesn't care about his cock, his power, or his dirty hands. And he's ready to do anything to make her beg for one touch.

Tall, muscular, with icy blue eyes and neat brown hair, Theron Björnsson looked like sin in an expensive suit. On the outside, reserved and charming, on the inside, he was a caustic possessive, sadistic, and manipulative man, accustomed to complete subservience and intolerant of refusal.

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