The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret

It was 2:00 AM when Jonna unlocked the door to the penthouse. She was exhausted, her bones aching.

The apartment was dark. She assumed Flint had stayed at the estate to do damage control.

She kicked off her shoes and walked toward the bedroom.

The smell hit her first. Tobacco. Flint didn't smoke in the house.

She pushed the bedroom door open.

Flint was sitting in the armchair by the window, a silhouette against the city lights. The ember of a cigarette glowed orange.

Jonna gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

Flint crushed the cigarette into a crystal ashtray. He stood up. "Where were you?"

"Walking," Jonna said, her voice tight. "Thinking."

He walked toward her. He had taken off his jacket and tie. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top. He looked dangerous.

"Grandmother gave me an ultimatum," Flint said, stopping inches from her. "Fix the image. Produce the heir. Or lose the CEO seat."

"Not my problem," Jonna said, trying to step around him.

He blocked her path. He backed her against the wall.

"It is your problem," he said. "We need a child. A real one. Not Serena's mistake."

He leaned in, his breath smelling of scotch and smoke. "You humiliated me, but you also created an opportunity. Since you were so kind as to debunk the impotency rumors in the most dramatic way possible... let's prove them right."

Jonna's eyes widened. "Get away from me."

"You're my wife," Flint said, his hand moving to her waist. "You owe me this."

"I owe you nothing!" Jonna shouted. "You bought me to pay a debt! That debt is paid!"

"Not until there's a baby," Flint snarled. He pressed his body against hers. He was heavy, solid muscle.

Jonna panicked. If he touched her... if he forced her... it would muddy the timeline. He would think the baby was conceived tonight.

But she couldn't let him touch her. The thought made her skin crawl.

"Flint, stop!"

He didn't stop. His hand moved to the buttons of her dress.

Jonna reacted on instinct. She brought her knee up, driving it hard into his groin.

Flint grunted, a sound of pure shock and pain. He doubled over, stumbling back.

Jonna didn't wait. She scrambled past him and ran into the ensuite bathroom. She slammed the door and twisted the lock.

"Jonna!" Flint roared from the other side, pounding on the wood. "Open this door!"

She backed away, trembling, until her back hit the cold tiles of the shower.