ather chair and sat down. She k
. "Tell me your real name. And
her voice steady. "The illegitimat
is left ring finger. "I have heard the gossip. The Barrett trash who go
rretts framed me. They locked me out of the trust fund my mother left me.
ng pointed out, his eyes cold. "You d
den Barrett," Evelina fired back. "I n
n his steepled fingers. He looked at her
ront of my grandfather. A puppet who looks good at charity galas. I do no
. She pointed to the frosted glass
ivate bathroom," Evelina said. "I
oward the door with an open palm. His eye
f the marble sink and stared at her reflection. The ugly
all plastic bottle of industrial-grade solven
bed hard. The hyper-realistic red pigment began to melt. T
ck-rimmed glasses and thr
ck, dark, wavy hair tumbled down her back. She then peeled off the thick, clip-in bangs
ver her face, washing away the last traces of the solv
s a woman with flawless, pale skin, high cheekbones, and striking, pre
e minute
r. The latch clicked lou
nd walked back out. Her st
ne. At the sound of her footste
slipped slightly in his grip. Raw, unfil
tcast. This is a woman wh
e crossed her arms over her chest and looked dow
able for your banq
the sound harsh in the quiet room. He forced his fa
ce tight. "But you are still a Barrett. They are leeches. I
cal skills were not enough to break this
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