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Her Vengeful Heart: Dangerously In Love With The Dark Prince Novel Cover

Her Vengeful Heart: Dangerously In Love With The Dark Prince

Betrayed and left for dead while pregnant, I survived my fiancé and stepsister’s greed. Five years later, I have returned with a hidden identity, marrying into the city’s wealthiest family to exact my revenge. As my disguises fall, I dismantle my enemies’ lives until they beg for mercy. My powerful husband shields me from my past, proving I was never a mere substitute. Despite my stepsister's desperate claims, I am the only woman he has ever truly loved.
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Chapter 2

Five years had slipped by in a quiet blur.

My phone suddenly rang, sharp and insistent.

Halfway through my skincare routine, I wiped my fingers and picked up the call.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to finally speak with you," the voice on the other end of the line said smoothly. "I heard you've recently returned to the country. Would the Jones Group have the honor of inviting you to work with us? All we're asking for is an opportunity, and we promise you won't be disappointed."

Even after all this time, I still recognized Karson's voice. It hadn't changed at all.

My heart raced.

For a brief second, I wondered whether he could recognize my voice.

With deliberate calm, I curved my lips into a slow, knowing smile. "I'll think about it."

Delight rushed through Karson's tone at once. "Alright. Would you be free to meet right now?"

I agreed and ended the call without another word.

Peeling the damp face mask away, I stepped closer to the mirror and studied my reflection—barefaced yet strikingly flawless.

Five years had gone by, and the mirror showed me a woman I almost couldn't claim as myself.

With steady, practiced movements, I spread a custom-blended cosmetic across my skin, a formula that could only be erased with a special solvent.

Intentionally, I dulled every sharp edge of my beauty, burying it beneath bland, unremarkable makeup, then finished the disguise with a pair of oversized black-rimmed glasses that swallowed half my face.

Five years ago, Karson and Lilah had been worried that I might still be alive, spending endless effort trying to track me down.

So, I had learned to live behind this mask, wearing it like armor as I moved through the world.

Sometimes, even I struggled to remember which version of myself was real.

It was this very disguise that finally convinced Karson and Lilah that Alexandra Harris was truly dead.

Now, bearing the reputation of an internationally acclaimed perfumer, I returned to Atokton with clear intent burning in my chest.

"Karson, Lilah—you'll both pay for what you've done. I'll take back everything you've stolen from me," I muttered under my breath, my gaze hardening as my fingers tightened on my bag.

Determination driving each step, I went downstairs and started my car, ready to leave.

Without warning, a tiny figure emerged from the corner of the street, darting straight into my path.

My foot slammed down on the brake, the tires shrieking in protest.

Just in front of my car, the small figure crumpled to the pavement, frozen in terror before breaking into frightened sobs.

Concern dropped into my chest as I rushed out of the car to check on the kid.

Curled on the ground was a little girl, no more than five, dressed in a pink princess gown, her wide eyes swimming with tears that could soften even the coldest heart.

And her features...

Something about her face stirred a strange, aching familiarity I couldn't immediately name.

My chest tightened painfully as the image of the baby I lost five years ago surfaced in my mind.

She had been a girl, too...

Back then, by the time I was wheeled into the hospital, my injuries were already fatal—my pulse fading, my body barely holding on—and there had been no hope of saving the child inside me.

I still remembered cradling that tiny, ice-cold body in my arms, crying until the world dissolved into nothingness.

The memory surged back, sharp and suffocating, sending waves of pain through my heart.

When I met the little girl's tearful gaze again, my expression softened.

A quick scan of the surroundings showed no adults nearby, and my brows drew together.

What kind of parents would be reckless enough to let a child this young wander alone?

What if something happened to her?

Stepping closer, I lowered myself to the girl's level and softened my tone. "Hey, sweetheart... where's your family?"

At my question, the girl's sobs broke loose, tears spilling down fast as she muttered, "I... I don't know..."

With hiccupping breaths, she continued, "Daddy's girlfriend said she'd take me shopping, but then... then, she just left me here. I was alone, and I don't know where she went..."

The words pierced straight through me, tightening my chest with aching sympathy.

Keeping my voice calm, I asked gently, "Do you remember where you live? I can take you home."

The instant I finished speaking, the color drained from the girl's face, and her tiny frame began to shake as if caught in a sudden chill. Her head shook as she whimpered, "I don't want to go home... Dad's girlfriend told me never to go home. She said if I did, she'd hit me. I'm really scared..."

Shock hit me hard, and heat surged into my chest as fury followed close behind.

What kind of cruel woman would scare a child like this?

This must be reported to the police!

Before I could reach for my phone, the girl abruptly clutched her chest, her breaths turning shallow and frantic as her face flushed a frightening red.

Shock snapped through me as recognition set in—every sign pointed to an asthma attack.

Without immediate treatment, this could spiral into something deadly.

I didn't waste another second. Scooping the girl into my arms, I rushed her to my car, settling her gently into the seat before speeding toward the nearest hospital.

Luckily, we arrived in time. Thanks to the doctor's swift intervention, the girl's breathing slowly evened out, and the danger finally passed.

She soon drifted into an exhausted sleep on the narrow hospital bed, long lashes still clumped together with tears that tugged painfully at my heart.

Using a tissue, I brushed away the damp tracks on her cheeks, my movements slow and gentle.

Just as I was about to call the police, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

Several broad-shouldered men in tailored suits charged inside, their expressions cold and their presence imposing.

A sharp frown creased my brow as I demanded coolly, "Who do you think you are, barging in here like this? Get out right now, or I'll call the police—"

My words were cut short by a deep, commanding male voice that rose from behind the bodyguards, carrying absolute authority.

"Oh? You kidnapped my daughter, and now, you're standing there, threatening to call the police?"

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