The Reborn Heiress's Vow Of Vengeance

n here, M

loudly, dull and distant,

The documents exude the scent of ink and the end-the marriage certificate. Brian's hand rested on her back, a kind of

flashback sudden

ry-it's something m

the device that breathed for her. Brian's face appeared faintly above her-handsom

ice was as sweet as poison

ew on her back at that moment-were gripping

he nee

heavy. Burning pain in the lungs. Black spots appeared in his field o

pped his

ished wooden table in New York City Hall. Brian was right bes

u okay? His voice was a w

rply. The air she inhaled in her lungs

ayer of greed in his eyes was barely covered by false tenderness, existing bare and raw. He wasn't looking at he

mb fingers and landed on th

eal, that suffocating hallucination so intense that her body reacted against her will

clearly visible trace of annoyance. Just

at-primal, pure fear. She stepped back in terror, her chair knocked

" She screamed,

ween them like a shield. The clerk-a kind-looking middle-aged woman-sto

chance. The

und. Brian shouted hoarsely. His concerned mask sli

a convenient excuse, but trembling is real. Her whole body trembled with adrena

His face shifted from annoyance to complete c

rian. We're getting married. He stepped

d somewhere between laughter and tear

ircles the table, building a reassur

Brenda said firmly. Then he turned to Sloan,

t the word, clutching the lifeline ti

nd a growing fear. His prey slipped through his fingers. He couldn'

now!" His voice was

t. The main entrance with a heavy revolving door is thirty feet away.

phone, Sloan moved. She pushed aside a pot of decorative bany

's roar explod

ran

sted for years and was now vividly alive. She ignored the stares and exclamations, pushed open the re

f street hot dog stands. It was the most wonderful

back. She knew h

hat. Family members will worry. Brian would make up a story. She ne

logical trauma. This explains everything: panic attack

ded her a tissue. She shook her head in refusal, her st

mond ring on her ring finger. A symbol of a

and the disgust alm

hout hesitation or looking at it, she casually tossed it into a wire trash bin filled

le uncontrollably. She pressed her right hand deeply into her left palm, the s

searching through the crowd. He would call her, call her broth

tailored suit, trapped in the river of yellow taxi

's e

sh and rotten beer hit her nose, but she didn't care. She leaned

trash bin at the street corner

foolish, gu

t street, a different life. She blended into the anonymous yet surging c