Orchestrated Accidents: A Heiress's Revenge

He offered his arm, his gentle smile. I looked straight through him, my gaze fixed on a point beyond his shoulder. My father had sent a privat

to help you?" Jordan asked, his voice smoo

y cast. Jordan followed, sliding into the driver's seat. Devon stood there, visibly stunned, his p

empts at light conversation. "So, Amira, rough

ng the blur of the city. "I'm fine," I repe

been through a lot. How about I take you out? There's a charity auction

ch of my lips. "Your treat?

, Amira. More than enough. It'd be nice to

s. Not warmth, but calculation. "Alright, Jordan," I said,

aw the triumph in his eyes. He thought he was winning me over. He

t conversations. The air hummed with wealth and power. I leaned on my crutches, my injur

cet catching the light, drawing every eye in the room. It was exquisite, regal, utterly captivating. And as s

nd Delilah, draped in a delicate silk gown, clinging to his arm. Her eyes, wide and innocent,

d I knew Devon would get it

, raised her paddle. She bid a few times, then, with an exaggerated sigh, lo

mpt. He knew I wanted it. He probably thought I wanted it for him to giv

s voice echoing through the hushed room. It was a ridiculously high jump, designed to inti

out the dramatic bid, the tension between the Estrada heiress and the rising ro

gh. "Two million!" My voice, th

re anger distorting her pretty features. They expected me to back down, to

were