Rejected Heiress: My Heartless Family's Regret
s Aria pulled it open. The hinge was rus
ery. Frank Miller scrambled to sweep a pile of fast-foo
the trash into the center console. "I
ine," A
e seatbelt. The buckle was jammed, the plastic housing cracked. Without looking, her fingers found
wide. He cleared his throa
he started, hi
many times, the collar frayed. He looked nothing like Richard Carlisle. He
she said so
in the air bet
er lip trembled, and his eyes instantly filled with
. Okay
constantly as if he expected a police escort to pull them over for ruining the aesthetic of the neighborhood. They crossed the Queensboro Bridge, the steel gird
ing at her, then
he said, apology woven into every syllabl
boutiques were replaced by bodegas with neon signs, laundromats, and row
ture store. He noticed Aria looking at the display w
what you're used
lection in the glass, checking for the black SUV that had been
e," she s
en sat on the stoop of the building, smoking and laughing. As the Ford
ng around to the passeng
ng the tactical pack over one sh
e swept over them-cold, assessing, lethal. It was a look that said she knew exactly where to strike to incapac
mbling with his keys, ushering
ming in wheezing gasps. Aria climbed steadily, though she was careful to pace herself. The old injury in her lower back-a souvenir fr
oor landing, voices drifted
y's voice, cracking with adolescent rage. "She's a Carlisle
t pale. He looked back at
hispered. "He doesn't mean i
voice. It wasn't just anger; it was fear.
touched Frank's ar
e door,"
ouldn't fit the key into the lockin was cool, his was clammy. She guid
or swu
an stood by the stove, wiping her hands on a stained apron. A teenage boy stood with his back to t
widened, taking in the tactical boots,
inging with her a stillness that seemed to suc