The Ice Captain's Stolen Fiancée

Chapter 2

Word Count: 832 | Released on: Today at 11:20

Snow

rmanently break free from the Mcgees' control. A simple private breakup would allow the golden-boy athlete and his powerful family to spin

me from a fitful sleep on Brylee's sofa. My temple throbbed with a dul

six brutal years in Boston, where every hour outside of work was spent taking online business classes and

oddess of vengeance. You spent six years living like a corporat

coffee. "I need a computer. A high-performance one. I

e marble island. "All yours. What's the

, opening a terminal window and

ading text. "Wait, I thou

oking up. I was exploiting a known backdoor in VeriSecure, the s

I picked up my phone, smoothly unbloc

kground noise echoing behind him.

"I was baking some little cookies and testing recipes fo

the kitchen and don't worry about team business. Just show up on time for the ga

I said gently, ending the call befo

ely believed I was safely t

the status bar flashed

crypted landline recordings, clicking on a late-nig

name is a bankrupt shell, but having her as a docile ornament keeps our business alliances tidy. Play wi

tely obedient and boring as hell. I'm not interested in her skinny frame an

p, and grabbed a metal umbrella from the entryway rack. "That arrogant, parasitic m

gly calm as I saved the audio file. "A bat only le

packets across Donald's personal devices. Withi

as C

enabled real-t

connection. "Donny, my sister didn't fi

ing she's baking little cookies for me like a dutiful pu

er. Good. The more you underesti

" Cindy asked. "The Peninsula Hot

suggestion. "Of course, my little w

all e

a smile of pure, calculat

Hotel. The t

erything

ting from worry to excitement. "What are

the laptop. "That's too easy. I'm going

Chapter End

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The Ice Captain's Stolen Fiancée

Jasper Wren Romance

“I was carefully folding a new silk nightgown, ready to fly to New York and surprise my fiancé of several years, Donald. Then my phone pinged with a photo from my stepsister, Cindy. It was a high-resolution image of her and Donald, tangled together naked on messy bedsheets. On his arm was the one-of-a-kind silver bracelet I had custom-designed for his birthday last month. Cindy was staring right at the camera with a triumphant, provocative smile. A second message popped up: "Omg, sis, so sorry! Sent that by accident!" It was a blatant, mocking slap in the face. Later, I even intercepted a call where Donald laughed with his mother about how my declining family was just a worthless stepping stone for them. He called me a "boring, good girl" who was easy to manage, bragging that he would just go back to having his fun with Cindy right after our wedding. They really thought I was just a naive fool who would either come crying to him or quietly swallow this humiliating betrayal. They thought my silence meant I was weak and defeated. But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I scream. A cold, sharp anger shot up my spine, extinguishing every last ember of heartbreak. I threw the silk nightgown into the trash, opened my laptop, and used my MIT computer science background to hack straight into their luxury hotel suite's smart system. I wasn't going to New York to cry. I was going to broadcast their filthy affair to the entire city at the most prestigious charity gala of the year.”