TOP UP

Reading History

Sign out

Get the APP

The Billionaire's Stolen Angel: A Painful Return

Chapter 2 2

Word Count: 853 | Released on: 13/01/2026

ool against Estelle's legs, but p

al blow. She wasn't safe. She was lea

telle wh

er hair. "It's okay, b

The sound tore from he

hovering in the empty air. Estelle didn't wait. She scrambled

ra!" Arthu

g the gravel. She didn't feel the pain. She scra

arget!" a bod

dirt belly-first, sliding under the rusted chassi

She made a sound, a low, clicking whistl

ows, a low gr

bull mix with one ear torn in half and eyes that had seen too many

ispered, grabbing

s Chr

n. The gun was black and matte and pointed right at

thur roared from behi

dn't think

hin arms around his massive, muscular neck and bur

med into the dog's shoulder.

cles were rock hard, vibrating with the urge to kill, b

tic moment where the only sound

a so

n the trailer floor. Shadow. He hopped onto Estelle's

s voice was shaking.

one eye. The re

he dirt, shielding a monster of a dog and a broken cat-with an expres

elle stammered, her voice small. "Th

rom Eleanor,

He looked about fifteen. Harlen. He had headphones a

d through the glass. "Are you kid

ing her shoes. She knelt in the dirt next to Estelle. Sh

her voice fierce, "then they are B

n the collar loo

ers. "Winston. Get the transport

r's head. She whispered a single word,

The hackles smoothed. The growl died.

d. The raw, desperate connection between a broken child and the only creatu

gray suit began moving through the crowd of neigh

ss, a greedy smile plastering her face. "I assume there'

apped his jaws, the sound like a bear tra

and fell backward i

ll the dog back.

r. He didn't even look at her. He hande

ller yelled. "

ned. "Mr. Bridges said the

st. She watched Mrs. Miller sitting in the mud, empty-hand

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

The Billionaire's Stolen Angel: A Painful Return

Alexis Modern

“I was on my knees in the Ohio dirt, frantically scooping wet coffee grounds back into a torn trash bag while my foster mother screamed that I was a useless waste of space. Then, ten black Escalades rolled into our rotting trailer park like a funeral procession, and a woman in silk fell to the mud, sobbing that she had finally found her "Elara." I was whisked away to a mansion that looked like a castle, but the nightmare didn't end with a warm bed and sterilized air. My brother Harlen looked at me with pure disgust, and when he slapped a chicken leg out of my hand at our first dinner, I instinctively dove under the table to eat it off the rug, begging for mercy through my tears. My billionaire father, Arthur, watched in silent agony as I tried to wash my own rags in a gold-plated sink at dawn, terrified that I would be starved if I didn't "earn my keep." He promised me a thousand silk dresses and ordered the trailer park bulldozed to the ground, but I still felt like a prey animal caught by very large, very sad predators. The trauma wasn't a smudge I could wash off; it was a map of cigarette burns and bruises that I was desperate to hide from the family that had spent millions searching for me. Just as I thought I might be safe, a black helicopter banked over the lawn, carrying a medical team and a cold order from my oldest brother, the "Shark" of New York. "No one is ever taking you away," my father growled, shielding me from the men in white coats. But as the rotors shook the windows, I realized that being found was only the beginning of a different kind of war within the Bridges empire.”