Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother
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w to her throat, clawing at skin that should have been charred, expecting the searing heat of
ve lilies and the cool, conditioned
kward, her heels catching on the plush Persian rug, until her back hit the vanity table. The
er hair was styled in perfect, gl
were whole. The diamond engagement ring on her left hand cau
ndar sitting on the
looked like a tombstone. It was the night of the engagement gal
l, the public humiliation, the years of misery that f
dead. She
knuckles turning white, forcing herself to breathe. In. Out. The panic began to recede,
e dress-the emerald green silk gown she had worn that night
down the cool fabric. Last time, she had put this on with stars in her eyes, believing Hank B
head. Right now, Hank wasn't waiting for her at the bot
one. In its place was a simmering, pois
Her hand didn't shake this time. She applied it with precision, watc
e whispered, her vo
artet drifted up from the ballroom below, a stark contrast to the
tairs. She turned left, t
the carpet in her stockings. Her steps were practiced, a skill she hadn't posse
didn't panic. She simply raised a finger to her lips, her expression
he heavy oak door
unds were faint, but unmistakable. The low, guttura
a
t down. Last time, she had burst in, screaming, crying, maki
to
he tapped the screen, switching to video mode, and disa
turned it slowly, millimeter by milli
crack. A sliver of light from th
d together. Hank's shirt was unbuttoned, his face buried in
ith lust. "Once the merger is signed, the Adams fortun
es like sandpaper. "She's such a clueless cash cow,
s a type of cha
k. Just a profound, icy disgust. She lifted
ctly. Hank's face. Elena's fac
xactly ten second
ou
ently pulled the door shut. The
footage. The image was clear. The audio was crisp. It wa
pted email account Lucas had insisted on setting up for her years ago for
nto her heels. She adjusted the diamond drop earrings that hung hea
looked like a queen, but her eyes were dead. They were
e long walk to t
m was a sea of tuxedos and designer gowns. Waiters moved like ants with silver
lton, the patriarch, looking stern and powerf
e had no idea that in three years, he wou
led her over. She gripped the banister, the cold marble grounding
nd as a victim walking to her execution. She d