The Scar He Gave, The Queen I Became

into the massive

its and modest dresses Franklin had purchased to

open the false bottom

metric lock on a sleek, bl

icked

, a suppressed tactical handgun, and a black-and

, pre-marriage clothes into a

thing for the suffocat

he living room, her boots stopped in

piece they had won at an aucti

ering how Franklin had told the press it

nausea hit the b

and shoved the heavy c

ash echoed throu

to razor-sharp fragments, tearin

hallway, his face draining of col

uth to speak, but Cadenc

ery ounce of the gentle warmth he had known for t

stranger, and the sheer, unnatural unfamiliarity

d over the gli

private number of Elena Rostova, the mos

ller's desk by eight a.m.," Cadence ordered, her t

walked to the

inst the scanner. The

watching the floor n

the invisible chains around

med at the under

sat idling in her private spot, the

er's doo

ack tactical trenc

in the underground network, took the du

"The Chase manor has been swept.

rt nod and slid i

, sealing her away from the

the neon-lit arteries

against the leather head

r pale face through

am on standby for the water

n, a flash of ruthless ene

rive straight to the Gr

ed to se

ntly erase the humiliatin

d crash had finally dragged Fr

rs, his silk robe tied loosely,

shattered crystal an

lin demanded, his voic

finger at the private eleva

a time, his leather slippers c

scanned

vorce intent pa

n the cracked glass coffee table, was

ueller matriarch, d

ched the ring

he metal band that the prongs dug

surge of panic and rage

phone and dia

answered: "The number you have

hurled the phone violently against