The Jilted Heiress: Her Secret Billionaire Life

my upholstery," she

tary single cabin of the first-class car, the air was still, recycled, and smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant and stale coffee. The man opposite he

ention was locked on the tablet resting on her knees, the cold aluminum case seeping a chill thr

en. The dossier was titled: Clem

es deep valleys of exhaustion. Dylan's chest tightened, a physical squeeze around her heart that made her b

er, the man whose DNA she unfortunately shared. His

hard her teeth ached. She looked at the numbers below his fa

red. The word felt lik

ng the silence. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching a

s bruised the skin under her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a messy, friction-heavy bun. No

a change of clothes and wrapped around the familiar, cold steel of a compa

he cabin do

lide. It was a despe

. Her body went into a state of hyper-focus, her pulse

d of iron and expensive sandalwood cologne. He clutched his

ng over with pain, but the sharpness behind them was un

h

ed down the corridor ou

ind spot of the door frame, but his

n mo

it the floor. He was heavy, dead weight, but she absorbed the impact with her knees, pivot

it in one f

led violently f

uff voice bellowed throu

ustom thermal imaging app revealing two armed figures without any corresponding federal

ng the bloodstain spreading on his shirt. She reached up, messing her h

crack, putting on the face she wore

o big for the narrow hallway. The lead man push

ing the train

with a surprising, rigid strength. She rubbed her eyes. "Do y

saw the shape under the blanket. He saw

s jacket. He was re

py girl

drop ten degrees. She didn't wait for him to draw. She

ckening crunch

l, Dylan stepped out into the corridor. She struck his throat-a precise, ca

ond man

oot connecting hard with his ankle. He lost his balance, cras

aining with the effort, into the utility closet across th

t was when the man on the seat finally registered what had happened, his shock