Flash Marriage To The Ruthless Tycoon

Kassie's spine stiffened. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She followed the sound of that chilling laugh, turning her head toward the open doorway.

A man stepped into the room.

He was well over six foot three, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. He wore a custom black Tom Ford suit that clung to his muscular frame with lethal precision. The moment he crossed the threshold, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet by ten degrees.

The family lawyer immediately shrank back, pressing himself against the wall. He bowed his head, his posture screaming absolute submission.

Kassie's chest tightened. Her lungs suddenly refused to expand. The man's face looked like it had been carved from marble-sharp jawline, straight nose, and eyes so dark they looked like bottomless pits. The sheer, predatory dominance radiating from him made her skin prickle with cold sweat.

He walked slowly toward the counter, stopping right next to her test kit. He raised his right hand. His long, elegant fingers tapped twice against the metal table. Tap. Tap.

"Is this the professional standard you pride yourself on, Doctor?" he asked. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated right through Kassie's ribs.

Kassie forced herself to stand tall. She dug her fingernails into her palms to stop her hands from shaking. "The results are conclusive," she said, her voice tight. "The man in that bed cannot have children."

A mocking smile touched the corner of the man's mouth. The amusement in his dark eyes was terrifying.

The man reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket first. He pulled out a heavy, matte-black business card with gold foil lettering and held it out to her, his gaze pinning her in place. Kassie's hand trembled violently as she reached out and took it. Jarrod Holt. CEO, Holt Enterprises. The air left Kassie's lungs in a violent rush. Her brain short-circuited. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled her ears. Then, he lifted a long, elegant finger and pointed at the unconscious man. "And that," Jarrod stated softly, "is my younger brother, Jalon Holt." She whipped her head around, staring at the patient card on the bed. J. Holt.

The blood rushed to Kassie's face, burning her cheeks with a humiliating, scorching heat. Her stomach dropped so fast she felt physically sick. She had assaulted the wrong man. She had sterilized the wrong brother in front of the actual heir.

Jarrod looked down at her, his eyes tracking the panic spreading across her pale face. He looked entirely entertained.

"You just illegally assaulted the second son of the Holt family," Jarrod stated, his tone ice-cold. "And you failed to even identify your actual fiancé."

"I had authorization," Kassie choked out, her throat tight. She snatched the manila folder from the counter and held it up like a shield. "Your grandfather signed this!"

Jarrod didn't blink. He reached out, grabbed the thick folder from her hands, and ripped it entirely in half. The sound of tearing paper echoed sharply in the quiet room. He dropped the pieces into the trash can.

He took a step forward.

Kassie instinctively took a step back.

He took another step, his massive frame backing her up until her shoulder blades hit the cold, hard plaster of the hospital wall.

Jarrod leaned down. His face was inches from hers, his expensive cedar and bergamot cologne invading her senses. "Prepare yourself, Dr. Moody," he whispered, his breath brushing against her ear. "You are about to face the most ruthless legal team in New York."

Kassie's chest he heave. Her heart beat so fast it hurt. She was trapped. His physical proximity was overwhelming, pinning her in place without him even touching her.

Suddenly, Jarrod pulled back. He stood up straight, his hands casually adjusting his silk tie.

"However," Jarrod said, his voice returning to a calm, business-like cadence. "If you wish to avoid spending the next decade in a federal prison, you will agree to my terms."

Kassie's eyes darted to his face. "What terms?" she rasped.

Jarrod turned his back to her. He looked out the large glass window at the towering Manhattan skyline.

"Pack your things," Jarrod commanded. "You are coming with me. We need a quiet place to talk."

Kassie looked at Jalon, who was still drooling slightly onto his pillow. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She had absolutely no leverage. She was completely at his mercy.

She stripped off her white lab coat, grabbed her faded canvas tote bag, and walked out of the room, keeping her head down.

As she followed Jarrod's broad back down the corridor, she could feel the burning stares of the nurses and hospital executives. They watched in stunned silence as the Brooklyn clinic doctor was marched away by the tyrant of Wall Street.