Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Author: Breenda

Chapter 1

Word Count: 789 | Released on: 07/05/2026

ugh the thick afternoon heat

hood of a wrecked Mustang, motor oi

his hand. His eyes were wide. He couldn't keep up with her hands-the

gled knot of cabl

it roared to life, the deep rumble

t, stepping back. That engine

filthy rag onto the hood. Her fac

cell phone started vibrating violently. The

st coated the back of her throat. She wiped a s

around in the

age. Arrogant. Impatient. The voice of

h and reached for a half-emp

rrow morning," Sterling ordered. "No excuses

tab and popped it open. The sh

she said, fl

e from the other end. Sterli

he snarled, his voice climbing.

icy burn slid down her t

g dropped his voice to a lethal register, "I will permane

hit her like a

minum shrieked and crumpled. Cola spilled ov

ng the tool rack. The air in the garage turned heavy. H

She needed that trust fund. Not for the money, but for the safety deposit bo

uscles to uncoil

w," she said, her voice dropping back to a

play games with me, Allison. You have

ne wen

rushed can across the room. It slammed into the me

ing back to those people?" Ri

m the magnetic strip. The blade caught the dim light. She bent dow

," Allison said softly, "I'm t

ubbed the oil from her hands. The cold water rushed over her left wrist, washing o

was dropping. The a

it dry. It scratched the back of her throat. Within seconds, the freezing sensation in her vein

on the wall, shoved her arms into the sleeves, and zipp

motorcycle and pulled her matte black helmet over her head.

ycle tore out of the dirt lot and shot i

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Breenda Modern

“Allison was hiding in a dusty small-town garage, working as a mechanic to suppress the lethal, experimental serum freezing her veins. But a call from her estranged, wealthy father shattered her peace. He threatened to permanently freeze her dead mother's trust fund if she didn't return to the family estate immediately. That trust fund held the only key to the truth behind her past and her survival. When she stepped into the sprawling mansion in her faded hoodie, her family treated her like a stray dog. Her stepmother mocked her cheap clothes, and her half-brother called her a piece of trash. Her father tossed a vocational school enrollment form at her, telling her to learn to sew so they could marry her off to anyone desperate enough. Her perfect, porcelain-doll stepsister Gwyneth even deliberately smashed a glass of boiling milk against her own leg. "Why did you push me?!" Gwyneth screamed, crying tears of fake terror to frame Allison. "You vicious bitch! You're just as sick as your mother!" her father roared, raising his hand to strike her. They looked at her with absolute disgust, thinking she was just a stupid, uncultured hick they could easily manipulate and destroy. They had no idea that the girl standing before them was a lethal operative who already possessed all their offshore tax ledgers and darkest secrets. Allison easily caught her father's wrist mid-air, her grip like a steel vice. "I'm not going to a trade school," she whispered coldly, ripping the form into pieces. "I am going to Crestwood Academy." It was time to take back everything that belonged to her, with interest.”