His Lethal Wife: The Heiress's Vicious Comeback

and sweat hung in the air of the S

g onto the bench. She

arrow mirror inside her lo

se was swollen and bruised purple from the mor

scissors. Her eyes were fixed on the expens

ing steady. She preten

in striking distance. S

he edge of the heavy metal locker door

Tammy-Lynn squa

mmy-Lynn screamed. She dropped the scissors and

rs froze. Their eyes

screeched across the tiles, blockin

e. She wrapped the ends around her knuckles. She pulled her hands

forward. Her eyes were e

r out of the way, scrambling over the benches to flee the

word. She stepped over Tammy-Lynn's legs, ch

packed with students from Manhattan's elite families.

heir wore a custom jersey. Sweat glistened on h

e bleacher steps. She

d the systematic social isolation that drove Eleanor to de

yup. He turned to

vanished. He saw the pure, unadultera

assed the ba

erately bounced the ball hard and low, aiming it to ricochet off the floor

d their faces, bracing for the sickening sou

didn'

hot down. Her fi

m her knees. The impact was massive. Th

tic energy, her wrist dipping slightly before lockin

he referee dropped his whistle. I

t the three-point lin

h one hand. She stepped off the bleachers

slowly to

e teammates stepped fo

that promised immediate, violent hospitalizatio

Julian. He was taller, but

, Eleanor?" Julian stammered. His voice

didn't

the ball. It

oded int

lently against the floor. She dropped her shoulder,

ss the speed. He tangled his

hed hard onto the floor, his

e. She squared her shoulders. She jumped.

high through

is

ouching the rim. The buzzer sounded

s still sitting on the floor. The bas

ot on top of the ball.

id. Her voice carried across the dead

eins in his neck bulged. He opened his mouth, but the

lked out of the gym, leaving the king