Betrayed Heiress: His Public Downfall

Burr

small whimper escaping her lips as she stirred. She reached for me

" she mumbled, her vo

th a desperate hope. It was Charlotte. It had to be Charlotte. But it was just the voicemail alert, again. The famil

d, the words tasting like as

denly sharper. "Good riddance, if you ask me. She was

. This is just a game. She's testing me. I'll go h

n around. I drove like a madman through the city streets, ignoring red lights and blaring horns. My hand

d the dark. She always left a light on, a soft glow filtering from the bedroom. But tonight, ther

racked, a desperate ple

heart. I flipped the light switch, plungin

pt

d blanket she always draped over the sofa, her favorite mug – gone.

a desperate delusion, still clinging to me. Mayb

esser drawers were empty. Her side of the clos

aking. It was a photograph, or what was left of one. Torn precisely down the middle, leaving only my half.

The proudest

d, the smell of fresh-cut grass, the heavy weight of

every shelf, every nook and cranny. Her toothbrush, her worn-out sneakers, her collection of obscure spices – all gone. Even the old, chipped mug she drank

ograph clutched in my hand, my head buried in

der years of self-importance,

lotte had been a whirlwind of energy, making me ginger tea, rubbing my temples, coaxing me to eat. She had sta

ion to care for me. She had sacrificed her moment, her recognition, just so I could have mine. I hadn't even thanked her. I had just accepted i

owledged her sacrifice. I had taken her love, her devotion, her very ess

ct. She had left me, alone, in the glory she had meticulously cra

ssed. Hot tears streamed down my face, blurring the image of my triu

ng in my chest. I had to find her. I had to.

keys. Harrison. I needed to talk to Ha