The Rejected Jinx Is A Billionaire Heiress

oe

gates bearing a platinum crest, winding up a private, manicured hill to

full stop on the circular drive, the c

rble steps, completely ignoring the rain. Right behind him, an elegant woman in a

oor with precision. "We

onto the gra

he damp air, trembling, her gaze tracing every contour of my face

ice shattered into a sob. "My baby

cold basement rooms, forced servitude, and stol

ped my arms around her trembli

th. Charles stepped forward, wrapping his massive, protective arms around both of us. He pulled me aga

industrial empire breaking like thin glass. "You are safe now, Chloe. As long as brea

m. Eleanor sat beside me on the velvet sofa, her fingers tight

ogany box bound with brush

onal devotion. "The deeds to a triplex penthouse on Central Park South, your personal trust fun

cross the table. Etched cleanly across the m

t the matte-bla

e like an unpaid servant, they could keep me powerless and docile. They had no idea that I had spent years quietly biding my time-mastering my mentor's med

d conquered the world. To her, ten thousand dollars was a fortune worth screaming over. She had no idea it was merely

murmured, feeling the wei

rce protectiveness. "You suffered in obscurity for twenty-two years while others enjoyed

"And tonight, New York learns who you are. The Sinclair family is hosting their Centennial Ga

family has spent weeks leaking rumors to the press that their daughter

o steal your life and treat you like dirt, Chloe. Tonight, the city's entire

me up to the third-floo

n sculpted from midnight-blue silk, hand-embroidered with microscopic crysta

e breast pocket of my discarded coat, retrieved the leather pouc

f the gleaming metal.

fore my mentor passed away, he entrusted me with the Vermeeren neural kinetic therapy. Six s

e them away, just as Brenda Tucker had spent years sc

al attendant. "Bring the sapphire-encrusted evening clutch from the vault. Ensure the in

he first time in my life, my talent was not an incon

fastened with diamond-tipped hairpins. When I looked into the gilded mirror, the quiet girl in worn canv

nity. It was an Instagram notification from an

nclair ballroom, holding a crystal flute of rosé champagne

r, and some are born to illuminate the sky

e touched my lips as

ty-two years looking down on me from her pedestal, completely convinced that my quiet obedience was weakness. She had n

ssuring weight of my silver instruments safel