Andrea

If you’re reading this story, you’re three hours too late.

While you were salivating over the sexy bastard on the cover, I was crouched in the shadows of Cross International’s boardroom, counting down the seconds before committing a murder.

The moment the last terrified employee clocked out, I slipped out of the closet—extension cord in hand—and did the world a favor by strangling Harrison Cross.

You’re welcome.

Please send gifts to my prison cell—preferably coffee, ramen noodles, and a strong Wi-Fi signal.

Thanks to me, my coworkers will no longer have to suffer through a man who thinks his presence is “a present.” They’re officially done putting up with an arrogant asshole who schedules meetings at inhumane hours—all while bending me over his desk and lecturing about “personal boundaries.”

I’m pretty sure his handprint is still on my ass…

There will never be another “Thank you for your attention to this issue” email in the wee hours of the morning. No more heated stares that make me question my every thought, and no more intense nights in his office where the faint, professional line between us blurs and burns within seconds.

Then again, a girl can dream.

Everything above was ripped straight from the pages of my personal revenge fantasy.

I just wish reality had actually let me write it.

Unfortunately, all I can do now is redraft the past few months in utter shame. 

I’m internally screaming at the silly heroine who can’t stop making terrible decisions—especially the one where she trusts the gorgeous and conceited billionaire with deep emerald eyes, impeccably tailored suits, and a permanent “I dare you” smirk on his seductive lips.

If I’d known what I know now, I swear I would’ve walked away long before it got to this point—long before he forced me to sign away the final terms of my life.

At least, that was the case before he called me tonight…

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Add The Final Terms to your TBR

**Releasing via live launch on Amazon/Kindle Unlimited later this month!**

F.L.Y.

Whit