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Too Late To Beg The Heiress

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 989    |    Released on: 11/05/2026

y deprivation chamber. No sound from the torrent

is jaw clenched so tight his teeth ground togeth

by a private investigator. They showed Arielle, wearing a threadbare t-shir

face-down onto the buttery leather seat. T

ng with a lethal rage. "She's a Chandler. She has our blood in he

erfectly still. His eyes were closed, his head resting against

row furrowed slightly. His index finger tap

, resonant baritone that commanded the space without effort. "Lo

! I know our families signed a marriage contract, but if you treat my sister

obsidian, devoid of any readable emotion. The corners of hi

rnett Consortium," Ellis said smoothly. "I have zero

ience. He lunged across the center console, his

is face inches from Ellis's. "Anyone who looks down on her

ed his hand and brushed Kevin's grip away with terrifying ease. He

"The interstate is flooded. State police have blocked the route

Ellis c

red and died on the side of the r

l. The neon sign buzzed overhead, casting a sickly red glow over the crack

her surround

bag and pulled out a heavy, matte-black laptop. It looke

r knees. She hit the power button. The screen flared to l

five different proxy servers befor

Ezra dropped into t

the Tyson family's financial network, detailing five yea

to look at the keys. She began writing a malicious T

lashed on her

s aggressively shorting Tyson retail s

trace on the incoming capital. The IP routing bounced across

o a server in Manhattan.

to whisper that name with a mix of reverence and te

changing. She

ithin three seconds, a third of the Tyson family's liquid ass

pped up: Execu

fied smile to

Kimora's VIP seating c

enter's security network, planning to replace the concert's backing track

tantly killing the power and severing the connection. She shoved the

ence took less

parking lot. The heavy tires crushed the gravel,

She widened her eyes, forcing the cold calculation to vanish, r

of the Mayba

didn't have an umbrella. He spun around,

he awning. He saw the soaked, shivering

art st

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Too Late To Beg The Heiress
Too Late To Beg The Heiress
“For eighteen years, Arielle was raised in a cramped trailer park, treated as nothing more than a walking blood bag to keep her sick sister, Kimora, breathing. But today, her adoptive family hurled her belongings into a muddy pothole and kicked her out into the freezing rain. "Get the hell out, you ungrateful parasite! You'll rot in the gutter!" Kimora's wealthy biological mother threw a check at her chest, warning her to stay away, while Kimora stepped out of a Porsche to mock her in the mud, flaunting her upcoming violin solo at Lincoln Center. They didn't care that Arielle was the one locked in a basement, forced to write that very violin piece until her fingers bled. They had drained eight hundred milliliters of her blood every month to keep up the illusion of Kimora's health, and now that they were done using her, they threw her away like garbage. Did they really think she was just a fragile, broken country girl who would starve without them? They had no idea she was a top-tier hacker who had just frozen a third of their offshore assets with a single keystroke. As a massive, armored Maybach pulled up to take her back to her true bloodline-the ultra-wealthy Chandler empire-and her terrifyingly powerful billionaire fiancé, Arielle wiped the mud from her face. Manhattan was waiting, and she was going to burn their world to the ground.”