The Vengeful Heiress's Deal With The Devil

Chapter 4

Word Count: 567 | Released on: Today at 11:52

axon's eyes, replaced by a c

. His voice was raw, deep,

e side pocket of her canvas bag and

-soaked denim, exposing the wound. The gash was deep, c

closely, noting that her face didn't even t

it multiple times into a thick, dense pad, pressed it directly over the deepest part of the gash

r of cold sweat broke out on her foreh

xon's cold eyes. He recognized s

live?" Jaxon sneered, leaning ba

re. "Because no one else can make you sto

knocks hammered agai

from the hallway. "I'm looking

nt rigid. She stared

sted the cuffs of his bespoke suit jack

t and pulled out a Glock fi

rd the back of the sofa, g

e carpet and crouched behind the heavy

r. With one hand, he unl

contractor shoved his weight against

rist and drove the heavy steel grip of t

stantly, falling forward in

traps of his tactical vest and

out into

d shots ec

o the room. His face was completely d

ket and wiped a single drop of blood off his silv

crypted number. "Keith. VIP cabin three. I am leaving three targets behind. Have the cleanup c

thout waiting for a respons

wn at the so

ge of the leather a

off this train,"

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.”