After You Broke Me, I Became the Heiress You Can't Reach

"Someone like me has no business crossing women like you—rich, powerful, untouchable." I looked at him. "Blake, I'm not worthy of you. Just let me go. I don't want to end up dead one day for no reason at all."

He frowned, his gaze turning sharp and hostile.

"Explain yourself."

I lowered my hand, revealing the swollen red mark on my cheek.

"You should ask her what she said."

"Miss Sullivan!" Fiona shrieked, her voice pitched high and piercing. "Yes, I slapped you—because you threatened my parents' lives! They're just ordinary people! If hitting me back will make you feel better, go ahead. I'm begging you, just don't hurt them."

My eyes burned scarlet with fury. "You're lying! You were the one who—"

"Enough." Blake's cold voice cut me off. He looked at me with open disappointment. "Theresa, I've spoiled you rotten."

"What, you think because you have no parents, I won't touch you?"

Maybe I'd already seen it coming. Maybe my heart had gone cold long before this.

I laughed—a hollow, useless sound. My eyes stung so badly they ached. "So how exactly do you plan to stand up for your wife?"

He walked toward me, slow and deliberate, then peeled the ring from my finger—the one he'd made with his own hands after earning his first real money.

He turned to his assistant.

"Call the police. My wife's jewelry has been stolen. Caught red-handed."

I forgot how to move. My mind went blank.

Blake's rise to the top had never been a gentle one. He was used to being ruthless.

I was his only soft spot.

Right or wrong, he'd always taken my side. No questions asked.

Not a single person in Riverport had ever dared play dirty with me.

But now, the one driving the knife into my chest was him.

Blake turned the ring over between his fingers. Through the tears pooling in my eyes, his cold features blurred into something I no longer recognized.

"Tessa, you've been very disobedient. Go in and reflect on what you've done for a few days."

"Don't worry—it won't be long. When you come out, I'll put the ring back on your finger myself."

I twisted my lips into something bitter.

Officers walked in. As the handcuffs closed around my wrists, I pulled my hand free from his grip, my face completely expressionless.

The sudden emptiness in his palm made Blake frown. He stared at my retreating back, seized by the irrational feeling that he would never hold on to me again.

He started to step forward, but Fiona was faster—hooking her arm through his.

"Blake, thank you for standing up for me. That was terrifying."

He clicked his tongue and pinched her cheek, indulgent. "What do you want as compensation?"

Fiona beamed, plucked the ring from his hand, and tossed it into the trash.

His expression shifted. She immediately let her eyes redden with hurt. "Was it that important?"

She made a show of reaching into the trash can. "Fine, I'll fish it out. Ten years of history—even if she hurt me, I don't want to make things hard for you."

Blake caught her by the waist, his heart melting completely. "Nothing's more important than you. Don't dirty your hands. Here—take the black card. Buy whatever you want."

Fiona huffed and refused. "I don't want your money. I only love you."

"Right, right. I'm the one who wants to spend money on my wife. If you won't let me, I'll feel terrible."

Only then did she accept it, feigning reluctance.

Three days later, I was dragged out of the detention cell in a daze.

They brought me straight to a private lounge at a club.

I pushed the door open. There on the sofa, dead center, Blake and Fiona were sharing a grape between their lips.

The grape slipped. They fell into a deep, tangled kiss.

The hooting and whistling from the men and women around them was loud enough to bring the ceiling down.

I didn't know how long I stood there before Blake finally noticed me in the doorway.

His eyes locked on my gaunt, colorless face. His expression darkened instantly. "What happened? Did someone give you trouble in there?"