The Surgeon Heiress's Cold-Blooded Revenge

land was less a house and mo

china. Twelve people sat at the long table. Aunts, uncles, cousins. T

"You're the Bailey girl. Th

er, thank you," she sa

confined to a wheelchair, and looked like she ate nails for break

spoken a

her water glass. Her hand trem

he leg. The swelling around the joint

stoo

warned, his voice

to the head of the table.

. She picked up a napkin, dipped it into a glass of hot w

?" Beatrice shrieke

t's humid tonight. The barometric pressure is droppin

looked down at he

ay

ded, sl

the area around the joint, using broad, firm strokes that looked more like a folk remedy than a medical

woman let out a long brea

r?" sh

looked at Cedric. "She h

er. It was a square-cut emeral

it," s

looked like she was going

ic said, "That's th

The old woman shoved the ring

idn't put it on. She sli

you," s

he felt Cedric's eyes burning

c lit a cigarette. The smok

s," he said. It w

ed smoothly. "You pick things up. The nu

't believe her. But he

d her watc

ng out,"

t's mid

. I need to blow off some st

he

terlin

d. A short, dark sound.

innocence. "My frie

g queens. He didn't know the Sterling Club was the fro

," he said. "

the back of

ub," she tol

om the terrace. He thought he had bought a pet.