Unwanted Wife: Dancing With The Blackwell Devil

e, carrying dust motes and the cloying, funeral-home scent of Casa

justed her professional smile, the one that made her cheeks ach

iss Brittny. You

died on

rinkled, cool to the touch. It looked like a slab in

aining the white carpet like acidic urine. She scrambled t

pt

ere gone, leaving only velvet indentations where a fortune us

tube of Chanel lipstick, was a

ly she nearly tore the paper. She r

t, raw and jagged, shattering t

om usually reserved for storage, Brooke

flinch at

e of her wrist. She adjusted the collar of her black dress-a stark

Right on

communication device. The screen flashed a stream of garbled code, a chaotic wate

rst move in a war Brittny didn't even know was being fought. The marriage co

iling was for people

tand. The device was a ghost, designed for a single use before its circuits dissol

," she w

ted. Heavy footsteps pou

No, n

d heard a thousand times-usually directed at her father's wallet, but today,

opened

panic, his tie flapping over his shoulder. He didn't even see her. To this house, Brooke

me, crossing her arms. Her sto

, the scene was a mast

e hands, was slumped on the velvet chaise. Her morning gown was open, revealing a chest hea

ite. Even after all these years, it was strange to think of him as 'father.' He was Lord Graves, the man who had erased he

you idiot!

phone away a

smashed against the marble floor,

jump. She simply shifted her weight, lifting her right foot an inch

knees beside the Grand Dame. "My Brittny! That boy

She sat up, her eyes bulging. "She ran! The little fool ran aw

mother, then at his wife, his face draining o

e whispered. "T

d the oxygen o

followed was heavy, suffocating. It was the silence of

n to descen

Click

with military precision. T

cond, there was confusion. Then, recognit

ssed. She pointed a sha

staring at his broken phone as if he could will it back together. She walked

buffet had been laid out for the bridal party. C

a slice of toa

Brooke said, her voice flat. "

ress Yun scrambled up, her face twisted. "She is fol

taking a bite of the toast. The crunch was loud in

. "We need to call the police

e Grand Dame groaned, clutching her

lowed the dry bread, feeling it scratch h

them. Three gener

her fathe

cked her w

rcade left the city limits

r father, lockin

our. And Elliot Blackwell isn't coming for

ust leave Lord Gra

nd to the Grand Dame, and then, sl

t was the look of a butcher a

a bride," Mistre

tasted the butter, the salt

oke said.