After Three Years in Hell, I Became the Heiress He Lost

My lips were cracked and dry.

"Leon, you can stop pretending you care. Whether I live or die doesn't actually matter to you, does it?"

"I'm nothing but Pamela's walking blood bag."

I pulled the blanket higher. "Don't worry. I'll rest up and recover like a good girl."

And then I'll disappear for good.

His expression darkened with irritation. He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone erupted in a frenzy of vibrations.

He answered, and whatever he heard changed his face completely. He turned and walked out without another word.

I tugged the corner of my mouth into a bitter, self-mocking smile.

That was when my own phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

"Want to know who killed your daughter?"

Before I could even process it, a courier walked in and handed me a paper bag.

I tore it open. My entire body went rigid.

A pink hair clip. My daughter's pink hair clip.

My hand shook so badly I nearly dropped it.

I'd always suspected the fire was connected to Pamela. But the person who actually set it had never been found.

I hesitated for only a moment. Then I ripped the IV needle from my arm, changed into my clothes, and followed the address printed on the bag.

It led me to a bar.

I scanned the room and spotted them in a shadowed corner. Leon and Pamela.

They were arguing.

"You don't even like me, so why do you care which man I have a drink with?" Pamela yanked her hand free, her voice trembling with practiced hurt. "I ran into someone I knew. We had a couple of drinks. And you beat him up for it."

"Besides, your brother's been gone for years. Even if I meet someone new, what's wrong with that?"

Leon gripped her arm, his eyes burning with a fire that could have scorched through bone.

"I don't care. I won't have you hanging around men like that."

"And you're still sick."

Pamela suddenly cupped his face in both hands, her voice dropping low. "Leon, is it really so hard to admit you love me?"

Then she kissed him.

His body stiffened. But he didn't push her away.

The kiss deepened until they were both breathless.

I stood in the dark, fingernails digging crescents into my palms.

I turned and left.

She'd done it on purpose. Every second of it. She'd known I was watching the entire time.

By the time I reached the Vance mansion on the west side of the city, Pamela was already there.

She sat on the couch, watching me with a half-smile that wasn't quite a smile.

I drew a long breath.

"Pamela. What do you actually want?"

"What really happened that night?"

I stared at her, unblinking, my voice shaking. "I have nothing left. Are you satisfied now?"

The corner of Pamela's mouth curled upward.

"As long as Leon still considers you his wife, I will never be satisfied."

I looked at her coldly. "Relax. I lost interest in being Mrs. Vance a long time ago."

I turned and headed upstairs.

She followed.

"Gloria, if I were you, I would've hanged myself with a bedsheet years ago. Why bother staying alive?"

The next second, she lifted her foot and threw herself down the staircase.

"Ahhh!"

The scream ripped through the entire house.

A figure came charging in and scooped Pamela into his arms.

Leon's face was ashen with fury. "Gloria! What did you do?!"

The irony was so thick it nearly choked me. "I didn't push her."

Then Hayden burst out of his room.

Leon turned to him. "Hayden, tell Daddy. What did you see?"

The boy raised his hand and pointed straight at me.

"It was her! She pushed Mama Pamela!"

Leon's gaze swung back to me. The cold in his eyes seeped through my skin and settled into my bones.