The Jilted Heiress: Rising From Ruin

es of The Sapphire Club into a river of oil and grime. Emely Cohen stood in the center of it, water soaking throu

ed to pulp. It was a pathetic shield against the elements, and

didn't step out into the rain. She wouldn't dare ruin her blowout. Instead, she leaned against the frame, her eyes s

handkerchief from her clutch and pressed it to her nose, as if Emely's pove

he looked down at her shoes, which were sinking into a puddle of questionab

for a circus attraction. Do you know what the uniform size limit

roat. "Please. My dad... the facto

ly's foot. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pale pink envelope. The

flicker of hope warring w

, you'll do it." Yvonne's smile was a slash of red malice as she held up her phone, dis

as if struck.

the rain. "Take it. It's for Christ Collins. He's at a private pa

t Col

ish, replaced by a vacuum of memory. She reached out, her fingers trembling, and took th

d. "Try not to eat the hor

ity of Emely's dignity. She stood alone in the downpour, staring

summer day that felt like a fever dream-golden, ho

s of swimming. She was sipping lemonade, watching the shimmer of heat rise off the pool d

watching th

pt E

ace, pale and desperate, clawing at the air before slippin

ain could process the danger. She sprinted to th

loating like a halo around his head. He wasn't fighting the water; he

her lungs burning.

wasn't static electricity. It was like grabbing a live wire. Heat,

agging his dead weight. They broke the surface gasping, water streaming from their faces.

gs, his chest heaving. Emely sat back on her

she asked, her

is forehead, dripping into eyes that were an unsettlin

k of his hand and glared at her

stunned. "You

voice was raspy and weak. He pushed himself up, trying to r

argued, her temper flari

, with a sharp jawline that promised a devastating ad

tilting her head up. The contact sent that same strange buzz

red, his eyes dark. "You d