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His Paid Substitute: The Fallen Heiress

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 710    |    Released on: Today at 11:26

ough Tristan Vance

es detailing his emotional trigge

he bitter liquid burned her tongue, helping her

ve the door

his shoulders and move

cap was pulled low over his sunglasses. H

e attempt at a disguise gave him away instantly.

He collapsed onto the leather bench across

ones that covered magazines worldwide-were compl

ile. She opened the PDF of his u

ited to see him. She slid

she asked, her vo

air. He complained that his agent, Brenda, was f

the serial killer's psychological motive. He

oubt in his voice. This was e

She scrolled to page 42 of the s

sick, suppressed tone the character needed. Th

eyes vanished. He stared at he

xplained that it wasn't pure evil, but a desperate,

n like a scalpel. She hit the exact s

ross the table. He pressed his palms flat agains

gets me," he breathed out. "Thos

this emotional breakthrough would earn her. On

back of his hand. It was a split-second

hand over, trying

k to grab her coffee cup. She dodged

ut he quickly rationalized it. He thought she was j

ack to his SoHo apartment right now to reh

atch. This counted as

started to

or looked out t

s one of the Wall Street liquidators who had dismantled th

Her blood ran cold. If he saw her here, he

block his l

her hand across the table, intentionally knock

s. In the exact same fluid motion, Eleanor dropped out of her seat and ducked under the table, supposedly to grab napk

d her sudden disappearance under the table created a cha

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His Paid Substitute: The Fallen Heiress
His Paid Substitute: The Fallen Heiress
“When the private elevator pinged. That was the moment Eleanor's two-and-a-half years as a billionaire's perfect fake girlfriend abruptly ended. Julian was terminating her services early because his real first love was moving into the penthouse tomorrow. His assistant stood by the marble counter, bracing for a screaming match. He handed over a brutal non-disclosure agreement. He slid a five-million-dollar check across the table, fully expecting her to cry, beg, or throw the money back in his face. "Miss Palmer... Giselle is moving in tomorrow," he warned. Instead, Eleanor calmly borrowed his Montblanc pen, signed her name three times without hesitation, and slipped the money into her planner. "Congratulations to Mr. Caldwell-Prentice on finally getting what he wants," she smiled flawlessly. They all thought she was just a high-end, emotionless mercenary who felt absolutely nothing for the men she served. They didn't know she was actually Cara Love, the last surviving heir of the ruined Love Foundation, living under a fake name to avenge her dead father. For years, she swallowed her burning hatred, playing the perfect emotional substitute to buy dark web intel and hide her unnatural, rapid-healing body from a ruthless medical syndicate. But now, a tech billionaire client had just uncovered her true identity, and her burner phone flashed with a terrifying emergency alert. The syndicate had found her. Eleanor grabbed her suitcase and ordered the private jet back to New York. The facade was over; it was time to face the deadly storm.”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 89 Chapter 910 Chapter 1011 Chapter 1112 Chapter 1213 Chapter 1314 Chapter 1415 Chapter 1516 Chapter 1617 Chapter 1718 Chapter 1819 Chapter 1920 Chapter 2021 Chapter 2122 Chapter 2223 Chapter 2324 Chapter 2425 Chapter 2526 Chapter 2627 Chapter 2728 Chapter 2829 Chapter 2930 Chapter 30