Engaged To A Coldhearted Murderer

ra Bry

a homewrecker and a secret mistress, ripped through me. It was a violati

my voice barely a

my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh, and twisted it, forcin

ards Gabe with her free hand. "Look at him, Eleanora. He's almost gone. One more mi

shadow now. His small body was utterly still. There was no mo

had no leverage. No power. Only a dying chil

amusement. Their gazes, vulgar and judging, stripped me bare, even though I was still fully clothed. I felt a primal

t and silent. This couldn't be

d of pure triumph, of unadulterated evil. "Tick-tock

t ultimately kind, loving. He said she was misunderstood, that her intensity was just passion. Lies. Al

ick with malicious amusement. "Give us a show. Mak

Eleanora. Humiliation or death. For your 'son'." She emph

ht in my throat. I had no other

ord tearing from my broken

floor in front of me. "Now, get on your knees. And start wi

torn fabric where she'd ripped off the brooch flapping useless

rom behind his phone. "Looks like Cannon

Gabe again. His chest was motionless. No. N

ttnie, my voice cracking

re it's convincing. Every word." She angled her phone,

s voice a lewd suggestion. "Let's

ng my arms across my chest. My

ra. Gabe won't." She grabbed my arm again, yanking it,

manded, her voice like ice. "Tell them you sto