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Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.
Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.
But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.
Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.
Read an Excerpt
Smoke from the other vehicle’s engine fills the back seat. Coughing, I cover my nose and mouth as I desperately search for a solution. The whole right side of the vehicle is smashed in. There’s no getting out that way. I’m considering trying to break the back left window when I spy the dividing curtain swinging in the cool fall breeze.
Tugging the makeshift divider aside, I peek into the front to see the driver hunched over the steering wheel, unconscious. If I move carefully, I might be able to climb around him to get out the driver’s side. I’m about to make my move when the back door squawks open. A large gust of fresh air rushes into the banged-up vehicle. My head swivels to assess the new arrival.
No. It can’t be. A trillion queries rise and fall as I look upon my assailant—my savior? It’s too much. Between the plane ride, the abduction, and being left alone to rot for a week in a gaudy prison then carted out like a virgin for sacrifice, I’m spent. Where does it end?
There’s a popping sound as my mouth forms a tiny O in stunned surprise. Edward, looking like James Bond in a classic European-cut suit (probably Armani) and a light-grey dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, is standing in the open doorway, hand outstretched in a gesture of chivalry as if these were the most natural circumstances under the Russian moon. I give him a blank stare.
“I told you I’d find you.” His silky voice floats past my ears, rattles around in my brain and down to my chest, where it nuzzles itself snugly into my heart.
About the Author
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