The Billionaire's Runaway Bride Is The World's Coveted Treasure

After midnight, the city sank into an eerie hush. A slim silhouette slipped into the restricted wing of a hospital, incapacitating several guards with a fine sedative spray before easing the remaining mist beneath the door of a single guarded room.

Kathryn Pearson silently counted to thirty, and then twisted the knob and pushed the door open with practiced care.

She padded to the bedside, studying the man's calm, unmoving face, certain the drugs had taken full effect.

Her gaze followed the sharp lines of his features—bold brows, a straight nose, lips carved with precision, and the pronounced Adam's apple that had captivated countless admirers.

He was dangerously good-looking, a man whose appearance and genetic profile were equally flawless.

After exhaustive selection, she had chosen him alone—Nathan Walker.

At last, the genetic research she had devoted years to could be realized: merging her ovum with Nathan's sperm to create a child of exceptional lineage.

Success would free her from her mother's relentless pressure to marry and have children. She could remain independent, on her own terms.

Kathryn's eyes lingered on him as she moved briskly, tugging his trousers down and retrieving a syringe, preparing anesthesia for a swift extraction.

Mid-action, iron-strong fingers suddenly locked around her wrist.

Her head snapped up, colliding with a pair of dark eyes blazing with lethal fury. The shock froze her just long enough for Nathan to reverse their positions, pinning her hard against the mattress.

"Who the hell are you?" Nathan bellowed, murder etched into his stare, as if a single word would cost her breath.

Kathryn hesitated, panic flickering across her face, and then twisted her hand sharply, trying to plunge the needle into his arm.

Nathan intercepted her again, forcing the needle toward her other arm. In her panic, she fired the syringe harmlessly into the air.

Fortune favored her—the dosage was ruined. Had it entered her bloodstream, she would have been utterly defenseless.

Her vivid eyes curved into a calculated smile as a reckless idea surfaced. If precision failed, then she would abandon subtlety.

"Mr. Walker, you're still undressed," she said lightly.

Nathan's face burned crimson with fury, his expression promising violence as he loomed over her.

He had barely shaken off the lingering effects of the sedative when he realized this woman had already yanked down his trousers and brandished a syringe, her intentions impossible to read.

As he fumbled to pull himself together, Kathryn smoothly produced a crystal vial and, without pause, sprayed its contents straight at him.

A heady, overpowering scent erupted, saturating the room in a single breath.

Nathan staggered. His sight swam, heat igniting low in his core and racing outward until a feverish red bled into his vision.

"What did you give me?" he rasped, voice rough and unsteady.

Kathryn's smile bloomed with quiet victory, her lips curving as she taunted, "Feel it? Too late—you're already caught."

"Do you want to die?" Never before had a woman pushed Nathan so far. Fury flared as his grip snapped tight around her throat, veins standing out starkly.

Kathryn twisted just enough to lessen the pressure, grappling with him while silently counting the seconds to the drug's peak.

For a man like him, she was willing to gamble everything.

Even wounded, Nathan's power was overwhelming.

She blocked and struck with deliberate precision, each movement laced with provocation.

Only when his face burned scarlet and his body betrayed him did she close the distance, pressing a defiant kiss to his lips.

"Relax, sweetheart—stop fighting it. You'll like this," she coaxed.

"Get away from me!" Nathan thundered, his last shred of control slipping as his body rebelled.

Kathryn ignored the warning, moving closer with practiced innocence, her hand sliding upward in bold defiance.

He locked onto her delicate features, the tiny mole by her eye pulling him deeper until years of discipline cracked apart.

Kathryn met his gaze evenly and whispered, knowing she held the cure, "Easy now. Don't rush."

In the blink of an eye, she was slammed onto the mattress, pain stealing her breath as his mouth crashed down on hers.

After a brutal struggle, sweat soaked Kathryn's skin as she begged for respite, but he had already surrendered to the storm within.

She had no one to fault but herself, condemned now to withstand the relentless aftermath of her choices.

At last, Nathan went limp in drained unconsciousness, and only then did she push herself upright, anger flaring as she lashed out with a sharp kick to his ribs.

Still seething, Kathryn fished out a coin and pinned it down atop a hastily written note.

The scrawl sneered, "You infuriating man. That performance was terrible! Still, considering the sperm you provided, I'll let it slide—just this once."

She refused to acknowledge that she had ignited the chaos herself, choosing instead to curse his exceptional intellect for cornering her into such extremes.

Task complete, Kathryn gathered herself and prepared her escape.

Her plan was simple—return home, collect her files, and disappear overseas—but the instant she crossed the door, her father, Edwin Lambert, caught her and struck without a word.

Kathryn twisted away in time, her gaze sweeping the room with irritation as she realized the entire Lambert family had assembled inside the Pearson residence at dawn.

With icy composure, she demanded, "Explain this."

"Explain this? You still have the nerve to ask? Sneaking around with some man last night?" Edwin thundered, jabbing a finger inches from her face.

Kathryn's eyes hardened.

For the first time, she saw her normally meek father as someone entirely unfamiliar.