Healing The Broken Billionaire's Cold Heart

Chapter 4

Word Count: 629 | Released on: Today at 18:45

itta down the line. The other workers looked at her d

ind a whirlwind of calc

clinic. Brenda's arm needed stitches. Tammy was covered in bruises. The story was t

is voice no longer bu

Mom. She's threatening to go

d. I'll be happy to show the police my son's

hile we're at it, maybe we can discuss years of financial e

ad. She knew the

threats from a safe distance. Britta walked past without a gla

nched library, Eleanor C

se life revolved around other people

, her voice dripping with condescension. "She's trash. Everyone knows

ting her niece spin her tale of

for breath, Eleanor aske

, with her son, ag

, yes

she

ess,

ted because her son

lustered in

s "shrew" sounded more like a cornered wolf def

nna's perspective is biased. I need facts. Employment his

k, ma'am," Vince replied,

's license photo. The woman in the picture had clear, defian

d. The only "stain" was an undeclared

nor student, Community College Design P

enda and Tammy walked in. The two women saw her, froze like startled

s over. A new one

rs, mentally calculating how long the few dollars she had left would

e glow of her cheap laptop illuminating her fo

leanor closed the folder.

and dialed the number

known number with a wealthy zip code's

woman's voice came

Ms. Britt

Chapter End

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Healing The Broken Billionaire's Cold Heart

Out Of Town Modern

“Six years ago, a terrifying night forced me to abandon my medical studies and hide in a decaying town, working in a dusty factory to raise my son, Leo, all alone. My toxic mother and sister-in-law constantly leached off me, calling my son an unwanted bastard. When they ganged up to beat us in our own hallway, I finally snapped, fought them off, and severed ties with my family forever. Desperate to escape that hell, I accepted a massive six-figure contract from a wealthy matriarch. My job was to rehabilitate her paralyzed, deeply traumatized ex-pilot son, Evan Carlisle. But the moment we moved into their estate, Evan proved to be a tyrant. When my little boy simply admired his model airplane, Evan roared in pure rage and propelled his heavy wheelchair violently toward my terrified child. I threw myself in front of Leo, letting the metal chair crash into my legs. Looking down at Evan's furious face, a cold shock ran through me. He had the exact same deep-set gray eyes and stubborn jaw as my son. The memory of that dark, hazy party six years ago suddenly flashed in my mind. Could this volatile, broken billionaire actually be my son's biological father? "You will not yell at my son. Ever." I stared down at the stunned man, my voice as cold as ice. I wasn't going to run away and hide anymore; I was going to tame this broken lion and uncover the truth of what really happened to me.”