Claimed By My Forbidden Uncle
Language: en
I walked into that VIP lounge ready to sell my soul for a wire transfer. But when the door swung open, it wasn't a desperate investor waiting for me. It was my uncle. That night, he didn't offer a handshake. He tossed a contract onto the marble table and forced me to read the clauses aloud, word by agonizing word. "Spread your legs, Kit," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous velvet. "Show your uncle exactly what it means to be 'obedient.'" I buried my face into the leather cushions of the sofa, my lashes heavy with salt, forced to endure every whim of his touch. When I bit my lip to…