Stolen Locket, Stolen Heart: Her Revenge

a

name was Chloe. I found them in his private office, their bodies intertwined, a scene burned into my memory. The wor

t her, calling them every name I could think of. I cursed him for his

ed. Chloe, surprisingly, seemed to shri

ed, his voice chillingly devoid of

p a file fr

works. Did you really think your father was faithful to your mother? He had countless affairs.

me, his eyes

ike her in her silence either. But don't make a scene either. It's unbecoming. You

my family's hidden shame, to attack me. He twisted my mother's quiet dignity into weaknes

the quiet click of the front door. I was still sitting in the living room

er head. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She was young, barely out of her teens, with an air of delic

ence of standing in the rain for so long. My

ounded foreign even to my own ears. "The guest rooms are upstairs, t

t to an overturned glass, lay a tube of muscle relaxant cream. The Persian rug had deep indentations, as

s echoed in the silent house. I went to my room, not the one Jaxon used, but a separate suite ac

leather journal I kept hidden beneath the floorboard unde

back page, where

ion records: request copies. Personal jewelry: assess

olumbia student. Find out what she

the mask I wore downstairs. This-the quiet planning, the slow gathering o

dient wife. And I'd let him believe that. The l

hiding place. Then I got into bed, turned off t