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The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 503    |    Released on: Today at 11:52

top in front of the towering wrought

en and stepped onto the per

de of the house that had served as her tomb in he

marble steps, her post

the heavy double oak doo

the head housekeeper. Her hands were clasped over

a's cheap canvas bag and her

scaped Brenda's nose. Her li

he standard of this entire property," Br

mall, unadorned door down the hall. "Fro

dangerous, freezing smil

mall door, she took two aggress

usekeeper, radiating the crushing,

tincts screamed at her, and she in

r heavy canvas bag stra

ardly to catch the dirty bag

loodline that built this house," Brea enunciated

again, I will have you packed up and

. She opened her mouth to yell, but the shee

oftly down the gra

usand-dollar silk dressing g

antly plastered itself across Dina's

de open, aiming for a

gust. She shifted her weight an

g empty air. The fake smile cracked, he

ke Sinclair stepped out of

a relieved, loving father. "Brea!

e stared at him with the cold detachment

g barrage of fake conce

llowed his anger and waved a stif

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The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil
The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil
“Brea Sinclair was finally brought back to her wealthy biological family in New York after years in the Rust Belt. She thought they had missed her, but the reality was sickening. They only brought her back to be a walking bone marrow bank to cure her sister, Caitlynn. Tied to a wooden chair in an abandoned warehouse, Brea could only watch as Caitlynn smiled triumphantly and confessed a horrific truth. Their mother hadn't died of a sudden illness; the Sinclair family had poisoned her for her trust fund. To ensure Brea couldn't fight the marrow harvesting, Caitlynn had a contractor douse the concrete floor in gasoline. "A tragic fire leaving you with third-degree burns and in a comatose state will make the hospital paperwork so much easier." With a serene smile, Caitlynn tossed a lit match into the fuel. As the wall of orange fire swallowed her, melting her clothes to her blistering skin, Brea choked on the smoke and her own distilled hatred. Through the agonizing pain, she swore a silent, bloody oath: if there was a next life, she would carve them all to pieces. Opening her eyes, the roaring fire and searing heat instantly vanished, replaced by the mechanical rumbling of train tracks. She was staring at her unburned, eighteen-year-old reflection in a grimy window. She was back on the night train to New York, on the exact day her nightmare began. This time, she was going to tear the Sinclair family apart from the inside.”