Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Author: Breenda

Chapter 1

Word Count: 683 | Released on: 07/05/2026

ugh the thick afternoon heat

skin. Ricky, the teenage apprentice, stood three feet away with a wrench in his hand

gled knot of cabl

n it roared to life, the rumble s

icky breathed,

ed a filthy rag onto the hood.

metal workbench behind her. The calle

nd sour coated the back of her throat. She

around in the

ce filled the garage.

breath and reached for

rrow morning," Sterling ordered. "No excuses

he tab and popped it open. Th

on," sh

f breath came fr

itch," he snarled. "You

cold burned down her t

Sterling dropped his voice, "I will permanently fr

her like a pu

aluminum crumpled. Cola spilled over he

is shoulder blades hitting metal.

hat trust fund. Not for the money-for the safety deposit box keys h

uscles to loosen

ow," she said, voice dropping back to a l

play games with me, Allison. You have

ne wen

the crushed can across the room. It slammed i

going back to those people?

m the magnetic strip. The blade caught the dim light. She bent dow

," Allison said softly, "I'm t

e oil from her hands. Cold water rushed over her left wrist, washing over th

oing numb. The ang

t dry. It scratched the back of her throat. Within seconds, the freezing sensation in

on the wall, shoved her arms into the sleeves, and zipp

black motorcycle and pulled her matte black helmet ov

e motorcycle tore out of the dir

Chapter End

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Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Breenda Modern

“Allison was hiding in a dusty small-town garage, working as a mechanic to suppress the lethal, experimental serum freezing her veins. But a call from her estranged, wealthy father shattered her peace. He threatened to permanently freeze her dead mother's trust fund if she didn't return to the family estate immediately. That trust fund held the only key to the truth behind her past and her survival. When she stepped into the sprawling mansion in her faded hoodie, her family treated her like a stray dog. Her stepmother mocked her cheap clothes, and her half-brother called her a piece of trash. Her father tossed a vocational school enrollment form at her, telling her to learn to sew so they could marry her off to anyone desperate enough. Her perfect, porcelain-doll stepsister Gwyneth even deliberately smashed a glass of boiling milk against her own leg. "Why did you push me?!" Gwyneth screamed, crying tears of fake terror to frame Allison. "You vicious bitch! You're just as sick as your mother!" her father roared, raising his hand to strike her. They looked at her with absolute disgust, thinking she was just a stupid, uncultured hick they could easily manipulate and destroy. They had no idea that the girl standing before them was a lethal operative who already possessed all their offshore tax ledgers and darkest secrets. Allison easily caught her father's wrist mid-air, her grip like a steel vice. "I'm not going to a trade school," she whispered coldly, ripping the form into pieces. "I am going to Crestwood Academy." It was time to take back everything that belonged to her, with interest.”