Blossom (Black Rose #3) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Black Rose Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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But my God… It’s probably too late for that.

Because my life might end today.

My life…

There’s more to me than being a salesperson at a lingerie and toy store. There’s more to me than being a submissive who plays with different Doms and never lets her emotions get involved.

There’s so much more to me…

And as I see that young mother, attempting to comfort her crying children, showing them all the love and the strength in the—

My God…

I want kids.

I want a life.

I want a life with Ronan, and I want to have his children.

If that’s not what he wants…

Then I have to move on.

I have to find someone who wants what I want long-term, not just right now.

And I never knew…

Never knew, until just now, how much I want a lifelong partner and children to love.

I’ll always be a submissive. My partner will most likely be a Dominant.

But we will raise our children with happiness and love.

And oh my God…

I may never have it.

What will I do if I can’t have it?

I sniffle back tears.

Crying won’t do me any good. I’m frozen in place, unable to move.

All I want…my only want…is to get out of here alive.

I’ll do anything.

Absolutely any—

“Your wallet, bitch.”

The man with the gun stands over me. I hastily take my wallet out of my purse, hand it to him. He takes my phone as well.

“That ring on your right hand. I’m taking that.”

I hastily pull it off my finger. The ruby ring from my father. He gave it to me for my high school graduation. It’s all I have left of him. He wasn’t the greatest father, and he was a lousy husband to my mom, but this ring is my link to him. It means so much to me.

With a gun in my face, I don’t think twice. I take it off and hand it away.

He moves on to the next table.

I heave a sigh of relief, but it’s not over.

The mother and her small children, the last table in the corner…

Fear slices through me, but I wonder…

I wish I could do something. Protect those two children. I’m so scared.

The masked man makes his way around the place.

When he gets to her, “Your wallet, bitch.”

Are those the only words this derelict knows?

I stare out the window again, wondering if the passersby can see the distress on my face.

No cops, no one even looking my way. Classic New York.

The little girl and boy—they can’t be more than two or three years old—cling to their mother as she fumbles in her purse, her hands shaking.

A third gunman has entered the coffee shop. Standing at the door. None of us can get out.

More fear whips through me.

My bowels are churning. I have to go to the bathroom.

Pissing and shitting my pants isn’t a good look, but at this point, I don’t care. I don’t care about any humiliation.

All I want is to live.

I want those two little children to live.

My God, this must be hell for them. They’re so scared.

I’ve lived in New York a long time. I know how to handle muggers. You throw your purse and run the other way. Most likely they’ll go for the money. Not that I’ve ever had to try it out, but I have friends who have, and it’s worked.

This…

Masked gunmen holding up a coffee shop? No escape?

This I’m not prepared for.

And of course he took my phone.

Why didn’t I think to call 911 before he took it?

Why didn’t I think of everything?

Why?

I heave another sigh of relief as the masked man leaves the young mother, her children unharmed. Physically, that is. They’re going to suffer emotional trauma. We all are.

Nausea claws at my throat, but all I had was a little coffee at home, so there’s nothing in my belly.

But still, the fear will keep me from puking.

The masked man who took everything from me has now stolen from everyone here. The three businessmen sitting here are now without their Rolexes, their credit cards, and all of their cash. They even took one guy’s cufflinks.

I don’t care.

I don’t care about any more things.

I just want them to leave. I want them to leave without firing a shot.

Why didn’t I stay at Ronan’s last night? He said I could stay, and he wanted the other woman to leave. I was too caught up in my own head to think clearly.

If I’d stayed, this wouldn’t be happening.

I would’ve gone straight to work from his place.

Or I would’ve had to go back to my place to change, but then straight to work.

Either way…

I wouldn’t have woken up early, taken the subway early, stopped to have coffee at this godforsaken place.

Why? Why? Why?

Except…what if he’s still with the other woman? What if he’s done with me because I left him with her after he asked me to stay?


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