Pampered By The Ruthless Billionaire Uncle

Chapter 8

Word Count: 695 | Released on: Today at 15:03

me, streamed down her stinging cheek. She turned to

How could she hit me? The gown I'm wearing

plicating him, forcing him to vo

old, unforgiving one. He was trapped. But his programming, hi

ienne, apologize to Sophia. Right now. I don't care wha

le shift occurred at the entrance of the b

ory grace that commanded absolute attention. The second, a step behin

and Alistair F

to lower the temperature by several degrees. He was the

her expression changed. He was Brant's uncle,

lating dramatically. "Mr. Carlisle, you have to help me! Vivienne...

nt fraud in front of the highest authority in the room. The guests

of lint on the carpet. His eyes, dark and intense, move

e, her voice calm and clear, carrying across the silent

e, familial. It instantly aligned her with him, turning them

almost imperceptible,

ch, it's an honor. I seem to have a situation here. Two gowns, both claiming to be the Seraph

ting a confidence that was more dam

of fear tightening in her stomach. She didn't know who he was, but the defer

asses, looking to his em

"Alistair. My future niece-in-law has made

re niec

just an acknowledgment of her engagement to Brant. It was

of shock, confusion, and a surge of

olor. She looked as if s

lightly to Vivienne. "Miss Ster

The crowd held its breath as he began his examination, his movements precise and methodic

ute, broken only by the frantic, terr

Chapter End

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Pampered By The Ruthless Billionaire Uncle

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“Vivienne Sterling was bound to a steel chair in a derelict warehouse, trembling as the metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth. The thug torturing her put his phone on speaker, revealing a truth that shattered her world: her kidnapping was ordered by her best friend, Sophia. Worse, her fiancé Brant was on the line, his voice dripping with an intimacy he never showed Vivienne. "Of course I love you, baby. The engagement to Vivienne is just business. As soon as the project is finalized, I'm telling her it's over." Every sacrifice she had made for Brant-giving up Yale, fighting her family-was just a pathetic joke. As she choked on her blood, trying desperately to scream, a thug brought a heavy steel pipe down on her spine. In her fading vision, she saw Brant's formidable uncle, Julian Carlisle, bursting through the warehouse doors too late. How could she have been so utterly blind to their deceit? She died consumed by a tidal wave of regret and burning hatred, her soul screaming that if she had another chance, she would make them pay in blood. Suddenly, the absolute darkness was ripped away. Blinding sunlight stabbed her eyes. She wasn't dead on a cold concrete floor. She was sitting in the plush passenger seat of Brant's Bentley, wearing a Chanel gown from exactly one year ago. She looked at the man who had discarded her life so easily, raised her hand, and slapped him across the face.”