Betrayed Heiress, Ruthless Redemption

heirs to the city's biggest construction empire. Our merger was the t

my custom gown in red wine. My fiancés ignored my humiliatio

truth. The entire engagement was a lie, a cold-blooded stra

e'd lock me away after the wedding, admitting his real affection had always been for

just break; it

to the microphone, and played the recording o

hless Julian Thorne, strode through the crowd. He took the stage,

itance," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm

pping to an intense whisper mea

d we will grind them

pte

eridia Grand Hotel was a galaxy of glittering chandeliers and murmuring voices, the air thick with the scent of lilies and expensive perfume. I smoothed a hand down th

nuinely, incand

art thrumming a giddy rhythm against my r

's construction empire having built half the city's skyline. Mark, with his sharp, charming smile and restless energy, was the

the making. But for me, it was simpler. It was love. I loved the way Mark's eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way Alex would quietly place a hand on the small of my back

h of cheerful color in the sea of elegant pastels. "You look like you

that felt breathless. "And ridiculo

tage where a microphone stood waiting. "Just a few more minute

er sister, Isabella. She was beautiful, with the same dark hair and sharp features as her brothers, but there was a fragility about her that made everyone, especi

r had,* I thought, a fresh w

ugh the crowd toward me, a full glass of red wine in her hand. She navi

soft when she reached me. "

s so sweet of you." I felt

thers... they are so lucky. We all a

yes, a deep, dark brown, darted from my face to my dress and back again. A

seeming to twist unnaturally. The glass of red wine tilted, and a tidal wave of crimson l

ippled through the guests nearest to us. I looked down in horror. A huge, grotesque stain, the color

her hand flying to her mouth. "Clar

cond, just before the performance of regret began, I saw it. A flash of triumphan

t be paranoid.* My mind scrambled to find a rati

nt. Mark put a comforting arm around Isabe

e murmured to her, completely ig

" Isabella sobbed

mixture of annoyance and strained sympathy.

he wine seeping deeper. The smell of fermen

ed on his sister. He finally looked at me, but his eyes

and drenched in wine, and he was worried about me making a scene? The carefully constructed fantasy of the evening b

id, his voice low and urgent, a command disguised as a suggestion. "So

yes. "Yes, please. I have a dress you can borrow

ation, were secondary to their family's image, to the smooth running of the par

and speculation that felt like a thousand tiny needles against my skin. As I walked toward the grand staircase, my chea

perfectly tailored dark suit. I recognized him instantly from the business pages: Julian Thorne, the reclusive and ruthless CEO of

intensity. His eyes, the color of slate, met mine across the crowded room. He saw the wine stain, the tear tracks begi

ent. It was as if he was seeing something he had expected all along. Then, wit

to my private unravelling, and for some reason, that felt like a glimmer of something solid in a world that was rapid