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Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting

Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting

Author: Alfred
icon

Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1661    |    Released on: 30/01/2026

against the cheap l

name flashing on the display was n

Of

p. She wasn't a girlfriend. She wasn't a partner. She was an asset to be m

didn't need to. The vib

the floors herself. This was her sanctuary, the one place his cameras and trackers couldn't reach. Her real life-the gilded cage

to go flat on command. She smoothed her hair. She adjusted the co

tigue. A littl

ted over three years. It was

blur past the window. Manhattan was a grid of lights and noise, a cage made of steel an

elf on exclusion. The heavy wooden doors were guarded by

e New York summer clung to her skin. She walked

rcus who had known her father for tw

" he

eye. He looked at a spot s

e said softl

repeated. His

hot and sharp, but she swallowed it down. She opened her purse, he

his time, letting her stand there while a group of men

Marcus said, h

oor o

ost more than Anna's monthly rent, was waiting in the lobby. Chloe

fol

expensive cigars and aged whiskey growing stronger. Chloe stopped at a

walke

s, and a low glass table was cluttered with crystal tumb

at in the center

d, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He loo

omething the man next to him said. The man was fat, bald

She folded her hands in

urniture. She was a

died down. The clinking of ice a

e color of cold slate, landed on her. There wa

and curled his fi

esture one u

She stopped in front of the table, the lea

her to sit. He held

m the ice. A jolt of revulsion went through her, starting in her sto

r. He knew exactly who she was. "Grayson, you still haven't managed to get rid of t

. It was a sha

"The Briggs family legacy. Or

nd the room. It was l

ned away, moving to the bar cart in the corner.

hands were shaking. She gripped the ne

he could see the reflection of

he table. He was scrolling,

lowly. As she walked back to the table, she

the balding

which she'd palmed from her pocket, made contact with the back of his device. A tiny, imperceptible vibration confirmed the data transfer. It was a high-risk gambit, a data sk

st her ribs. This was it

nn

ice cracked

liquid onto the mahogany counter. Sh

here," h

sofa. She set the gla

He looked at her, then at t

ith us,"

n't drink, Grayso

for the bottle on the table and poured three fingers of

he said

other men were watching

lease," she

ned. The playf

ings," he said. "Drink it. Or do you

ence. He wanted to see if she would break.

glass. The liquid

led visibly now. She didn't care. Let them

smell of alcohol was overpowering. S

i

It hit her empty stomach like a fist. She coughed

d patted her back. His hand was h

s breath brushed her ear. "Remember, your trust

her throat. She clamped

," she ch

issively. "Five minutes.

hout running. She pushed through the heavy door

r. Her knees gave out, a

vomit. She

ted the base, connecting it to a small burner phone hidden in a secret c

ext files appeared

unts routed th

on on Tressel

s if we don't cle

one's encrypted app. "Tressel Industries. Short position. Caym

and shoved the lipsti

rned on the cold water and splashed it on h

one. The submi

e sharp. Her

a deep breath, letting her shoulders slump, le

ocked t

e to go ba

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Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting
Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting
“I was Grayson Warren's "broken doll," a disgraced socialite kept on a short leash to pay off my family's debts. To the world, I was a fragile liability; to Grayson, I was a pet he could humiliate for sport, forcing me to play the role of a mentally unstable girl while I secretly gathered evidence against his empire. The cruelty peaked when Grayson forced me to break three years of sobriety in front of his investors, mocking my struggle before making me kneel on a golf course to scrub his shoes. He treated my life like a game, literally betting my sanity against a corporate board seat while he soft-launched a new relationship with a high-profile PR queen. When the pressure triggered a massive panic attack, Grayson abandoned me in a private clinic just so he wouldn't miss a dinner reservation. Even my own mother turned against me, threatening to leak my psychiatric records and brand me a "violent delusional" if I didn't beg for Grayson's forgiveness. I was trapped between a man who owned my debt and a mother who valued her estate over my daughter's life. I realized then that they would never let me go; they would only break me until there was nothing left. They thought they had erased my soul, but they forgot I was the only witness to the night my true love, Felix, was murdered. I was done being the victim. I faked a suicide jump off the Queensboro Bridge to go off the grid, then crashed Grayson's elite gala in a dress that signaled his downfall. Just as Grayson tried to physically crush me one last time, the room went silent. Felix Law, the man the world thought was dead for three years, walked out of the shadows with a federal warrant in his hand. "Take your hands off her, Warren." The game didn't just change; it ended. Felix was back from the dead, and this time, we were burning the empire to the ground together.”