The Heiress's Heart, Reclaimed By Love

lett

tural noise of pure rage. My hand moved on its own, the crac

d flying to her face, a look of

moment, Jax rou

nd. His face, already cold, turned to solid ice. He didn't say a word. He didn't ha

ning. Every smile, every toast felt like a lie. I was wai

. "And now," he boomed, his voice filling the ballroom, "I have the great pleasure of announcing the

d. Everyone leaned forwar

btly tapped his heart twice with his fist, a silent question. I g

been displaying a slideshow of my childhood photos, fl

team still hanging in the air. And a shot of my back as I stepped out o

urs went through the cr

one of Jax's denim work shirts to my chest, my face buried in the fabric, tears streaming down my

with gasps of shock. I was naked, exposed, my dee

him. This was his reven

s shouting at the technicians, but they

sitate. He vaulted onto the stage, grabbed a heavy champagne stand

. The scree

ge of the stage, his chest heaving. He looked directly at me, h

rophone from my st

is voice shaking with controlled fury. "So let me make it perfec