Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Old Feelings Die Hard

Sean POV

I stood frozen in the doorway of my Four Seasons penthouse suite, watching Angela storm away without a word. The elevator doors slid shut on her retreating figure, leaving confusion swirling in my mind.

What the hell just happened?

One minute we were dissecting investment proposals, the next she was bolting like I'd set the room on fire.

Her sudden shift gnawed at me. Unless... Had Christopher Blake gotten to her? The thought ignited a blaze of anger in my chest, my hands curling into fists.

No one meddled in my affairs-and Angela, despite our tangled history, was still mine to handle. This wasn't over.

My lips pressed into a hard line as I strode toward the elevator, determined to catch her before she slipped away. Whatever had sparked this, I'd drag the truth out of her tonight.

My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket, halting my pursuit. I yanked it out, answering with a sharp,

"What?"-my voice a blade of cold authority.

Silence stretched for a beat before a tentative female voice broke through.

"Sean, it's me."

"Christina." Not a question-a fact.

"Yes. You sound upset. Is something wrong?" Her tone softened. "I've been calling, but you didn't answer."

My mind sharpened instantly. "You've been calling me repeatedly?"

twice, but when you didn't pick up, I got worried," she said, her

I glanced at my phone-missed calls from

must've seen it. Her

me like that again," I ordered, my tone leaving no room

sorry, Sean. I was just worried

spamming my phone help? You'd just drain my battery when I

to deal with." I ended the call and shoved the phone back into

Wilson had just tipped her hand-she still cared. A flicker of satisfaction curled my lips. Her jealousy was a confession scrawled in

I spotted her instantly-her slender frame cutting through the

1/3

150: Old Feelings

reached her in seconds. As she yanked the car door open, I slammed it shat with one farceful sherre, pinning het betre

her hands shoving against my

my fingers damped

having it. My free hand shot up, gripping her chin firmly, furing her

to

breath hitching. "Fine.

it was a crime scene, I said, "Was it

fingers. "Why would I care about your phone? Your private life's got nothing to do

of her lip, feeling the faint tremble there. "You didn't

back too fast, her defiance brittle.

car. My cock stirred at the feel of her body wriggling against me, her curves grinding into me with every futile

my grip on her wrist, the other hand sliding from her chin to brace against the

possessive growl, "why'd you turn to ice up

my senses, and fuck, it was intoxicating. Her breasts pressed against my chest as

years hadn't dulled the way her body fit mine, like she was carved for me. My breath came heavier,

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