Beyond the Burnt Sugar: Her Sweet Revenge

ir thick with the smell of burnt sugar and desperatio

rials with a $100,000 prize. I needed that money. My father was in a hosp

he Scott empire, who saw something in me. He saw grit. He saw a skill with French cuis

nd place. On my wedding day to Ryan, Molly staged a suicide attempt. It was a dramatic, public spectac

I gave him a son. I thought maybe, just may

nd Ryan pressing a pillow over our bab

le. You and this thing. You

last thought was of my father, alone in the hospit

mpetition. The air is electric, the judges are waitin

is Molly Chadwick. She's standing by her station, pretending to review her notes, but I know sh

her, my s

n her eyes. "What do you want, Johns?

ce low and even. "I'm here t

sculpted eyebrows arch in d

e high enough to guarantee a win, even if you just present a bow

ching for a trick. "W

ed marriage into some Boston dynasty. The prize is one h

gears turning in her head. A guaranteed win. The title. The v

ays, but there's no co

. And we both know what happens then. Old man Duncan will be tying a leash a

g Ryan is her worst nightmare. She knows

ce tight with a mixture of

stares and the calls from the stage managers telling me to get to my

d it. $

I turn and walk away

e to get to your station!" the annou

door, the check clutched in my hand. This t