A Dangerous Bride for the Mad Heir

asphalt cut through the

tes. Officer Hayes killed the engine, the sudden silence feeling heavier than the noise it repla

ace of sympathy in his eyes

, ill-fitting jeans, old coat and a thin cotton shirt that had seen better days. The se

tching into the darkness, the glint of security cameras perched atop the stone walls, the precise angl

behind her ear. It was an unconscious gesture, a phantom itch, as she

ntercom. A woman's voice, impatient and s

badge up to the small camera.

y hunched her shoulders, wringing her hands together as if terrified. She perfected the image

rance, the heavy oak door was thrown open. A man in a tailored suit, Eugen

race, but froze mid-gesture. He caught a whiff of the cheap laundry deter

dkerchief to her nose, her eyes sweeping over Alea with undisguised di

osed-case paperwork. He turned to Alea, his voice low.

es wide and gratefu

toward the gate and walked back to his patrol car. As the red tail lights disappea

d. "Take her to the guest room on t

d the maid. She deliberately stumbled on the marble floor of the foyer, using the brief

small, cramped room filled with discarded fur

ht to you," the maid

. A key turned in the

g down the hall, the sound of a door opening and closing-the study. The moment they were gone, t

dwood floor. She pressed her ear against the wall, tracing it until she found wha

he metal slats. The Dillard's voices,

narl. "Of all the times for that little stray to show up! We're week

splintering ice. "Don't be a fool, Eugen

you talk

dripping with venomous glee. "Vicky refuses to marry that luna

hest. Not from shock, but fro

he mahogany desk. "You're a genius, Sheryl. A complete genius. We'll send h

t, contemptuous sound es

ith disdain. "We'll tell her it's her duty. We can use her parents' things

was pathetic, shortsighted. And perfect. It was the exact

uickly, scrambling back onto the lumpy, moth-eaten bed in the center of the room

d nightstand. It held a plate of congealed leftovers and a glass of murky water. The mai

cid. She picked up the plate, walked to the single, grimy win

. It was a high-concentration nutritional paste, military-grade. She squeezed the

moved to the door. From the sole of her sh

n another. In less than two seconds, the lock was open. She didn't open

nny Beaumont from a dossier photo swam in her mind: the sharp jaw, the piercing blu

urpose. Tomorrow, she would play their game. She would be the sacrific