My Fake Bankrupt Husband Is A Tycoon

rrow, empty alleyway

shadows. The rear door swings open. His execut

jacket Ethan strips off and tosses

rolling his shoulders. The suffocating disguise of a middle-class worker falls aw

. He snaps a high-resolution photo with his p

later, the

gh the speaker, breathless with laughter. "The heir t

er, Grandmother. It buys you peace of mind f

"Bring the future Mrs. Patterson to th

nto the seat. He looks at Jennings in the rearview mirror. "R

he Old City district

ace, the small flower shop I pour my soul into. I liv

e I can insert them into the lock

ris jumps out. Two massive men follow her-dista

s door of the shop.

" Doris screams, pointing

ounter. My hand drops below the counter, my fingers wrapping ti

eyes darting to my hands.

purple. "He gave me twenty thousand dollars for you! Yo

ng but my grip on the shears tightening. "And y

d back and barks out a harsh laugh. "M

l out the marriage license and slam it onto

en flushes with a rage so intense she looks demonic. The realization that he

t," Dori

pot holding a rare orchid

rs. Dirt explodes

ream, lung

d in the chest. I stumble backwa

licate roses I spent weeks cultivating. Glass vases explode against the w

r a tray of succulents that belong to my siste

y wells up, dripping onto the green leaves of the succulents. I bit

. She immediately pulls out her phone and dials 911. The two men are massive, their menacing postures si

ful of my hair, ya

my face. "You tell him he owes me twenty grand, or I

he air. Red and blue lights flash a