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Protecting My Vengeful Queen From The Shadows

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 740    |    Released on: Today at 11:08

uth in a perfect pantomime of shock. Behind her, a wall of reporters surged forward, camera flashes erup

deviated from her carefully crafted script. She had expected to find Khloe in a comp

rding, slumped on a sofa, bleeding from

ide him, her white dress prist

hey kept shooting, documenting every confusing, electrifying detail. This wasn't

nd of collective

f the crystal decanter from the floor. Without a moment's hesitatio

blood that dripped onto the pure white silk o

ure shattered, replaced by a mask of terror. Her body bega

a silent, horrific accusation

He tried t

, snatching her phone from beside her clutch. She'd retrieved it while Brenton was

rgency?" a calm voice

cry, pitched perfectly for the report

iancé... he tried to assault me! He drugged my drink!

to a struggle, to her own violence, framing it as desperate se

hut on her instead. This was a disaster, a public relations apocalypse. Her "s

ound the doorframe down the hall. He saw the blood, the

simple affair, shifted their focus. The narrative had changed.

on. "She's lying! She's mentally unst

ically, pointing her blood

h betrayal. "You helped him! You brought th

s the truth, wrapped in a lie, and it was utterly devastat

ough the throng of reporters. Their faces paled at the sight of the

ay!" the head of security yelle

ho had sunk to the floor, curling into a ball.

den from the cameras and the security gu

se. This was no longer a family matter the Hardings could bury with

ndant in the court of public o

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Protecting My Vengeful Queen From The Shadows
Protecting My Vengeful Queen From The Shadows
“Khloe was pinned inside a crushed car, cold metal piercing her abdomen as she slowly bled to death on the highway. Desperate and fading, she called her fiancé, Brenton, for help. But the call connected to the sound of an orchestra and a cheering crowd. He was marrying a billionaire heiress that very day, standing at the altar in the custom suit Khloe had spent six months tailoring for him. "I was in an accident... Please help me," she begged, coughing up blood. "Don't play these games," Brenton hissed with pure venom. "It would be better for everyone if you just disappeared. Die, for all I care." The line went dead. The silence was heavier than the twisted metal crushing her. As she flatlined in the back of an ambulance, memories of her pathetic life flashed before her. She was just the orphaned daughter of their driver, a charity case they bullied, used, and discarded. His sister stole her designs, and Brenton's love was nothing but a manipulative chain to control her. She had given that family her entire life, her talent, and her heart. Why did her absolute devotion only earn her a cruel, lonely death while he celebrated his new marriage? When Khloe opened her eyes again, the agonizing pain was gone. She was standing in the Waldorf Astoria suite, wearing the pristine white silk gown from her engagement party a year ago. Staring at the drugged champagne Brenton expected her to drink, she picked up a heavy crystal decanter instead. This time, she would make the rules.”