Shattered Vows The Billionaire's Cruel Contract

His leather shoes were spotless. The laces, perfectly tied.

He was humiliating me.

But William was still on the operating table.

I didn't hesitate. I dropped to my knees with a dull thud. The marble sent pain shooting through my legs. Around me, sharp inhales and muffled snickers filled the air.

With trembling hands, I untied his laces and retied them into a neat bow.

"It's done, Mr. Vance."

I looked up.

Anthony stared down at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Then he kicked my hand away.

"What a pity. I'm in an even worse mood now."

He wrapped an arm around Audrey and strode off without a backward glance.

Leaving me there on the floor.

I burst out of the banquet hall like a madwoman, sprinting through the downpour toward the hospital.

Before I even reached the entrance, I slammed into a solid chest at the corner.

"Careful."

Strong hands steadied me.

I looked up. A composed face behind gold-rimmed glasses—refined, almost scholarly. But I didn't have time to study him. I shoved against his grip.

"Move! I need to save someone!"

He didn't let go. Instead, he handed me a payment slip.

"I already covered William Sullivan's surgery fee. You can pay it back slowly."

I froze. My mind went blank.

"Who are you?"

"Scott Delgado. The lawyer who handled the Sullivan Group bankruptcy. Currently representing your creditors."

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the rain from my face.

"Miss Sullivan, even as a debtor, there's no need to degrade yourself for trash like him."

I kept vigil at the hospital all night. By morning, William was out of danger.

When I returned to the villa the next day, it was already noon. I was still wearing the suit jacket Scott had lent me, carrying the faint scent of mint and tobacco.

The moment I pushed open the door, the atmosphere hit me like a wall.

Anthony sat on the sofa. Cigarette butts littered the floor around his feet.

When he saw the men's jacket on my shoulders, he exploded.

He charged over, ripped the jacket off me, and hurled it to the ground, tearing at the fabric.

"Layla Sullivan, you're really something! You roll out of my bed and find yourself a new sugar daddy just like that?"

His eyes were bloodshot, his voice unhinged.

"Who is he? That Scott Delgado? When did you two start?"

He grabbed the scissors from the table and slashed the expensive jacket to shreds.

"I didn't! He saved William!"

I lunged forward, trying to salvage it—it wasn't even mine to ruin.

Anthony slammed me down onto the coffee table—right onto the shards from the glass he'd smashed yesterday.

Glass bit into my back. I gasped at the searing pain.

"Saved William?" He laughed, cold and cruel. "I think you're just addicted to selling yourself. For that half-dead bastard, you'd spread your legs for any man, wouldn't you?"

Smack!

I slapped him with everything I had.

Anthony's head snapped to the side. A bright red handprint bloomed across his cheek.

Slowly, he turned back. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his gaze lethal.

"Layla Sullivan. You dare hit me?"

I was panting, tears burning in my eyes.

"You can insult me all you want, Anthony. But don't you dare insult William. And don't you dare insult someone who actually helped me."

This was the first time I'd fought back since we reunited.

That slap shattered the last pretense of civility between us.

He laughed suddenly—a sound that sent ice down my spine.

"Fine. Very fine. Since you've got so much backbone, let's see just how hard those bones really are."

Anthony's revenge came fast.

That night, he took me to a private gathering.