?Chapter 1600:


    Anyone who dared stand between her and the title of Mrs. Scott would be erased without hesitation.


    “Rx,” Terrence drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I just want to propose a partnership.”


    Vickie’s stomach tightened under his gaze. Her fingers curled into tense fists.


    It was as if she were trapped prey, and he the calm, deliberate predator studying every move she made.


    “A partnership?” she echoed, forcing her voice to stay level even as her pulse thundered. “What kind of partnership?”


    “If we work together, I can help you win Dn,” Terrence said, shing a crooked smile. “Does that sound tempting?”


    Her brows furrowed instantly. “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you? What are you expecting me to give in return?”


    She didn’t believe for a moment that anyone would hand her such an opportunity out of kindness—certainly not one that could make her Dn’s wife.


    Something that valuable always came at a price, and she knew it wouldn’t be cheap.


    “You only need to make Dn yours,” Terrence said smoothly, his grinzy but his eyes gleaming with dark, possessive hunger. “I want Christina. It’s simple—you get the man you want, and I get the woman I want.”


    At the mention of Christina’s name, that hunger in his gaze deepened—raw and unmistakable.


    Vickie saw it instantly, and jealousy surged through her like acid.


    Why was it always Christina? Why did that woman have men falling over themselves wherever she went?


    Christina’s rtionship with Dn had been brief, yet she was the only woman he’d ever been willing to risk everything for. The memory alone sent Vickie’s jealousy zing into madness.


    “And if I refuse?” she asked coldly, a bitter smirk curling her lips.


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    Terrence leaned back, his expression almost yful. “If you refuse, you’ll never have Dn. And I’ll make your pregnancy public.”


    Vickie narrowed her eyes, masking the violent spark that red beneath them. “You’re threatening me?”


    Terrence leaned backzily on the sofa, his arms draped along the backrest, fingers dangling in effortless ease.


    The open cor of his white shirt stretched taut across his chest, hinting at the sculpted muscle beneath—a quiet disy of strength and unrestrained masculinity.


    He crossed one leg over the other in a slow, deliberate motion. Every gesture oozed control, every movement radiating danger.


    “It’s just a partnership,” Terrence said, his smile curving wickedly. “How could that possibly be a threat?”


    His tone was teasing, but Vickie’s heartbeat stumbled anyway, caught off guard by the maic pull of him.


    Everything about him screamed power—tooposed, too intense. He was no ordinary man, and that made him impossible to ignore.


    Why were men like him so drawn to Christina? What did that woman have that made them lose all sense of reason?


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