Novel & Cerita Cold Revenge Of The Outcast Heiress

she replied casually and logged onto the hacker's website with one swift move. {Isn't cutting off all contact with him now the best? Why would you even agree to meet a scum like that?} "Cutting him off is only letting him escape. I won't let anyone who cheats on me or the original owner of this body go scot-free, all of them will have to pay in due time. As for the Smith family, I will slowly and surely remove all of their backbones and then crush them in one fell swoop. Just wait and see!"

Relief. “So that’s it,” she whispered. “You get the crown… and I get the truth.” My heart clenched. I moved toward her without thinking. “No,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You get me. A sister. If you want one.” Her breath caught, sharp and fragile. Then Calista laughed, bitter, sharp, empty. “How poetic. The lost heiress returns, secrets spill, and I lose everything.” “You lost everything the moment you chose to deceive everyone,” Killian said coldly.

Her hand slowly moved up, touching her lips that still felt warm from Zean's kiss, before her fingers went down and tightly gripped the silver pendant around her neck. Out there, the political and military storm of Neophile City might be burning, driven by Sebastian Norwich's madness. However, standing inside this impenetrable Wilder fortress, with protection from the matriarch and absolute ownership from the supreme wolf, Helga knew her position and mentality now stood tall. She was no longer a frightened runaway girl; she was a part of this dynasty, and she was ready to face whatever tomorrow would bring.

He smelled so nice and I missed his scent so much! "You weren't late. In fact, you came early. You can say you were late if you saved me right there in ritual table." I could imagine myself on that situation. Me in a white longsleeve dress with loose cuffs, my long hair down, and my skin pale. I would surely look like a virgin offering—though I'm not a virgin anymore—but the point is, I would surely look so bad like a white lady. Then I would be chained in some offering bed, with a lots of gold linings, I suppose. In another circumstance, I think it won't be that bad to trying lying on to it. But since Alec had plans to tuck me on it to be her mate's offering, I know I need to change my mind

Instead of placing the receiver on the telephone, I place it on the table so that whoever calls might find it engaged all through. George is already naked when the irresistible blonde let's herself in, locking the door behind her. “What the fuck?” George gasps. “She's hot, isn't she?” I tease. “Ofcourse she is!” “Hello handsome.. ” Carmela teases as she lifts her micro mini to expose her deliciously brown thighs. George pounces on her with all his might and almost tears her tiny skirt off. I don't want to be a witness to whatever happens next therefore I tuck the documents securely under my skirt and walk out, winking at the blonde whose hands are already on the table, bending over as George

A lump gathers in my throat. "You know that's not the case. She has no memories, so the person she was has been erased,” Roel explains. He looks bothered by her paranoia, while also attempting to comfort her. I hope they pay him well…whatever it is he does here. "She may not be fit to be Queen,” Crimson hisses through her teeth. "None of this can be known for certain yet, Crimson. All we can do is slowly integrate her back into her old life." Roel sounds like he is scolding her.

"No one's coming. No one's listening but me." I hated how fast I obeyed. He moved to the other breast, teeth grazing, tongue dragging, while his hand shoved my thighs apart. Months of lying beside a man who turned his back, and here was Callan Whitfield, the coldest man alive, devouring me like I was the only thing he'd ever wanted. He kissed down my stomach, slow and deliberate. His breath touched the inside of my thigh and I stopped breathing altogether. "Look at me," he ordered.

She violently shoved the glass jars off her bedside table, sending shattering crystal and glowing healing herbs flying across the stone floor. A blood-curdling shriek ripped from her throat. "Get out! All of you, get out! Liars! Traitors!" Caelan stared down at her coldly. "Name your compensation, Isolde, and the Thorncroft Dominion will fulfill it." Isolde let out a hideous, unhinged laugh, her red eyes burning into mine. "Compensation?! I want her dead! I want her human neck snapped! Can you give me that?!"

The calculated warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a venomous, cold-blooded fury that made her look chillingly like the rest of the Ravencourt dynasty. "You pathetic little parasite," Victoria hissed, her gaze snapping directly to Tiffany, completely ignoring Julian. "You actually think a glorified decorator from a bankrupt district is going to sit at the Ravencourt family table? He’s using you as a prop, just like he uses everyone else. The moment this launch party tonight is over, he’ll drop you back into the gutter where he found you."

"Have confidence. Only your ability can lead the Valeciels to a better future. You were born to be its head. Trust me. I will make you succeed in the position." Aurelia's eyes reddened as she threw herself into Silas's arms, her voice trembling. "But Isolde is so cold. Will she agree?" Silas sneered, his face full of contempt, "She's putting on an act to get attention. She wants our affection. Tomorrow, we'll coax her a little, and she'll hand over the inheritance rights obediently." … Beneath the ice plain, the temperature remained brutally low, even indoors. There was no heating.