The Mute Heiress: Her Cold Silent Revenge

elled of old money

tels and sequins filling the ballroom. A waiter stepped into her path, his eyes darting to the seating chart in his ha

ed past him, the silk of her dres

raight for th

Robert, didn't even look up from his scotch. But it was Brande who held the room. She

r voice trembling just enough to sell the lie. "Her condition... it ma

he room. Pity. It tasted l

e perfect accessory to Brande's martyrdom. Isla saw his fingers bru

er father. He frowned, but before he could

eenlight from Ghos

enter of the stage. "We have some wonderful news to share," Brande beamed. The spotlight hit them

he crystal felt co

b across her phon

de's face, blown up to twenty feet of high-defin

system, sharp enough to make peop

t was grainy but unmistakable. A hotel

ugh the ballroom speakers, amplified to a deafening volume. "Do you

n was cruel. "Who cares? S

absolute. It was a physical weig

g her own funeral. Chase scrambled toward the AV console, tripping over a

link against the table was sof

rds bit into his palm, blood mixing with the amber li

chin. She lock

linch. She let him see the col

had already cut the audio feed from the podium. Her mou

gain. "Just sign the invoices as 'consulting fees.'

he board members at table three w

r chair scraped a

. She walked toward the exit, he

ward her. His face was red, veins bulg

ticed a thousand times. Chase grabbed air. His momentum carried him forward, c

from the floor, dr

own at him like he was gu

. The blinding white lights captured her indifferenc

ht air of Manhattan. The wind whipped her hair across her face.

zzed. _Phase

message and for

led in the

her dress, then at the chaos behind her. Isl

her head back against the leather, closing her eyes. Her heart was hammering

screaming at a PR rep. Robert was probab

yes and watched t

ry. This was just