Blackmailed Into His Arms: Blackmailed into Bed / The Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain / Blackmailed For Her Baby

Tisha’s nose began to tip up, but Elena plowed ahead, not caring a whit that their confrontation was starting to draw a crowd.

“Do you know what you are, Tisha? You’re a bitch. An arrogant, selfish, snobbish bitch. I’m sorry I ever met you, let alone was a part of your vicious little pack of hyenas back in high school.”

Her blood was boiling, her lungs burning with the effort to suck in enough air for all she had to say to this woman.

“You’re the one who’s pathetic, Tisha Ferguson-McDonald.” She sneered the hyphenated last name, making it as much of an insult as she could manage. “You’re the one who should be embarrassed by your upbringing, your appearance, your very existence, because you aren’t half the human being Chase Ramsey is. He’s the one who should be looking down his nose at you, not the other way around.”

There was so much more she was feeling, so much more she wanted to say, but none of it was worth the time she was losing in following Chase.

Leaving Tisha and her cohorts with their mouths hanging open in shock, she spun around and pushed her way through the crowd, following the path Chase had taken only moments ago. The closer she got to the doors of the ballroom, the faster she moved until she was all but running.

Through the crowd, through the open double doors. In the spacious hallway, she stopped, looked around, but didn’t see him.

Racing to the elevator, she elbowed people aside and pushed the down button, punching it over and over again until the doors closed and the compartment began to move.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, wishing belatedly that she had taken the stairs. Even in heels, she was convinced she could have made it to the lobby faster than the elevator was doing the job.

When the doors opened, she burst out, hurrying across the marble floor, glancing right and left for any sign of him. Outside, she scanned the cars coming and going, being both brought up and taken away by the crew of valets. Rushing up to the nearest green-vested worker, she described Chase and his car, and asked if the man had seen him.

“Oh, yeah,” the man said, pointing toward the end of the hotel’s long, curved driveway. “He just took off.”

Elena’s gaze followed the direction of the valet’s finger. She saw brake lights flash for an instant and then tires squealed as the driver pulled away.

There was no use running after him, no use trying to catch up. He was gone, and Elena didn’t know if she would ever get him back.