Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

Chapter 3

Word Count: 886 | Released on: Today at 16:33

Ricky violently backed the rig into the center of the garag

g in physical pain. "Hey! Watch

e front of the luxury car. She didn't bother looking for the latch rele

ling white steam explo

ack. She let the scalding mist wash over

over his chest. His dark eyes were locked onto

to the burning, complex maze of V12 engine wiring. Her fingers moved with

ter, she pulle

said coldly. "It locked

dn't even hook up an OBD scanner! You expect me to bel

eached into her toolbox and pulled out a massive

nged forward. "Are you out

hammer sliced through the air, missing Pierce's nose by an inc

ison brought the hammer

te deep inside the engine bay. The plate shattered, exposi

res, his mouth hanging open.

top engineers in Washington needed hours and a million dollars in diagnostic

ainst the concrete. She grabbed a pair of w

ands. She twisted the copper together, bypassin

o the skin of her wrist

ce of electrical tape with her teeth

erked her chin toward the

ened the door, slid in, and

over instantly, settling i

at the smooth hum of the engine, his initial rage completely dissolving into a state of absolute, dumbfounded awe. He had never see

n the bench. She walked straight up to Graham. She he

price," sh

face. The sheer audacity of her demand m

ther stack of bills. Instead of dropping them into

ick, hard calluses at the base of her fingers. Calluses that di

she had been burned. Her eyes flas

r hands,"

but his eyes were entirely serious. "Skill

her pocket. "None of your bu

nuine, almost desperate respect. "Seriously, what's your

dismissive hand over her shoulder. She didn't

bach. He rolled down the tinted window,

am pulled a heavily encrypted satellite pho

and absolute. "Pull the background on the owner of t

Chapter End

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Return Of The Lethal Unwanted Heiress

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“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.”