The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil

Chapter 3

Word Count: 538 | Released on: Today at 11:52

ly adjusted t

rled up on the leather sofa

s hair, gripping the strands as if

from his throat. It sounded l

flat against the door

man snapped his head up, staring dire

unched himself off the sofa w

g hand clamped a

. The air was violently

old, heavy platinum of a bespoke cufflink. The sheer, overwhelming physical power and the faint, expens

from the hallway, she saw his eyes. They wer

bient light briefly caught the sharp, aristocratic a

from countless financial magazine covers in her pas

ere, violent PTSD fla

d. The thick veins on th

rea's vision. The sensation of dying

gger a deeper violent response from a

arms felt like lead, bu

y pressed her warm, soft hands

nched violently at the su

in her windpipe. She locked her clear,

and made a soft, rhy

head," she forced out in a r

ratic breathing h

s fractured. A flicker of confu

er throat loosened by

holding it in place as she sucked in

e stumbled backward, as if

ther sofa, buried his face in

ughing violently, her hands clutching her brui

gainst the wall, waiting fo

eg. The cheap denim was soaked

ofa, Jax

Chapter End

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The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil

Mo Moqi Romance

“Brea Sinclair was finally brought back to her wealthy biological family in New York after years in the Rust Belt. She thought they had missed her, but the reality was sickening. They only brought her back to be a walking bone marrow bank to cure her sister, Caitlynn. Tied to a wooden chair in an abandoned warehouse, Brea could only watch as Caitlynn smiled triumphantly and confessed a horrific truth. Their mother hadn't died of a sudden illness; the Sinclair family had poisoned her for her trust fund. To ensure Brea couldn't fight the marrow harvesting, Caitlynn had a contractor douse the concrete floor in gasoline. "A tragic fire leaving you with third-degree burns and in a comatose state will make the hospital paperwork so much easier." With a serene smile, Caitlynn tossed a lit match into the fuel. As the wall of orange fire swallowed her, melting her clothes to her blistering skin, Brea choked on the smoke and her own distilled hatred. Through the agonizing pain, she swore a silent, bloody oath: if there was a next life, she would carve them all to pieces. Opening her eyes, the roaring fire and searing heat instantly vanished, replaced by the mechanical rumbling of train tracks. She was staring at her unburned, eighteen-year-old reflection in a grimy window. She was back on the night train to New York, on the exact day her nightmare began. This time, she was going to tear the Sinclair family apart from the inside.”