My Death, His Ultimate Downfall

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s!" The auctioneer's gavel cracked down,

there, impassive, beside a smirking Karin. My mother's locket. It was

er who brought the locket to our table. I reached out, my fingers achi

ry, Mrs. Jarvis," he said, his face

ly saved every penny. "What are you talking about?" I demanded

"You mean this card?" She held up my platinum card, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "Carson gave it to me this morning. For a little shopping

-all coalesced into one burning point of fury. "You bitch!" I screamed, lunging for her. My fingers clamped around her wr

cket. It clattered to the floor, th

diamond-encrusted bracelet raking across my cheek. A sharp, stinging pain erupted, and I felt something warm tri

er chair. With a terrified yelp, she tumbled backwards, landing with a sickening thud. Her hands flew to he

mask of terror. "Karin! My love! Are you alright?" He

bling finger at me. "She pushed me, Carson!

ey! She slashed my face! The locket, Carson, it's my mother's, and she stole the money for it!" I l

nk, stepped forward hesitantly. "Mr. Jarvis, Mrs. Jarvi

omach. "You saw her! She threw me down! My baby!

ating, now burned with a terrifying, primal fury. "Hank," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous, "take her to

on me. "Anyone who touched her, anyone who harmed my Karin or my child, will pay. You hear me?

pillar. I cried out, struggling against their gra

m. I screamed, collapsing to the floor, my vision s

cene, over my crumpled form, then back to Karin. "Was that... Ameli

ing her face in his shoulder. "I'm s

ndifference. He picked up his pace, walking out of t

guests, a chorus of judgment. "Did yo

ne your husband protecti

. That old oil baron, Hunt Marshall, hated Carson. Swore he

h me, mingling with the searing pain in my arm. I closed my

aised in the shadows of my father's sprawling ranch, overlooked and unwanted. My father, always a cold, calculating man, saw me as nothi

ve, freedom, and passion. On the day of my forced wedding, he burst into the chapel, a whirlwind of defian

elf, but for him. "My father

grabbing my hand. "I'd rather di

seriously wounded, protecting me during one of their ambushes. I knelt beside him, so

he does, you will come crawling back, broken and penniless. I swear it." Then he'd hung up, and the 'poison pil

er couldn't touch us. At our secret wedding, he looked into my eyes, his voice choked with

n't. H

d trapped me with my father's clause. "You'll always be Mrs. Jarvis. You'll have all the luxury, all the pre

as w

ged in a brutal power struggle. They killed each other, leaving me, the once-unwanted daughter, as his only surviving hei

l in front of the world-all the chains that bound me h

ve. For rea