Petty stared at the shredded divorce papers, her expression freezing for just a split second before she pulled herself back together. Calm washed over her face, but there was a hard determination in her eyes.
She slipped her pen into her bag.
“It’s fine. I’ll have another copy delivered to your office first thing tomorrow. Just keep an eye out for it,” she said.
With that, Petty reached for the door, ready to step out.
Franco lounged back, watching her. From the instant he’d taken the papers to the moment he’d ripped them, his eyes never left her.
He glanced at the driver. Jay caught his look in the mirror and instantly hit the central lock.
The doors clicked shut.
Petty’s hand gripped the handle, her patience slipping. “Unlock it,” she snapped.
She wasn’t talking to Jay. She knew where his loyalty lay. As long as Franco stayed silent, Jay would keep her in this car all night if he had to.
She spun around, glare icy as it landed on Franco.
Before she could say another word, Franco reached over, his hand closing around the back of her neck, pulling her close.
All at once, he was right in front of her, so close she could smell the cedar and faint smoke on his skin. She shoved at him, desperate not to breathe in a scent she both hated and craved.
It was useless. The harder she pushed, the tighter his arms locked around her.
She gave up trying to push him away, tossed her bag aside, and grabbed at his arm with both hands, ready to bite him if she had to.
Franco saw it coming. He caught both her wrists, pinning them behind her against the seat.
Now she was fully trapped, caught between Franco’s chest and the seat, not even able to squirm away.

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