The Call from Seattle

The contract marriage was supposed to have an exit clause. The secret baby wasn’t in the fine print. The second chance and the real marriage had rewritten every exit. Now the billionaire at the center of that contract was a missing person, and I was in Catherine’s East Van safe house above a bodega, staring at a map that refused to give him back.

Lily dragged Glitterhoof across the linoleum. The unicorn’s horn left a faint silver streak.