Reborn Heiress: Taming The Ruthless Tycoon

Katelyn pressed her back flat against the wood, shaking her head frantically. “Those… those accounts are for the charity! You know I run the orphanage donations!”

Gemma let out a short, sharp laugh. She picked up her phone, unlocked it, and shoved the glowing screen inches from Katelyn’s nose.

The screen displayed a wire transfer receipt. Beneficiary: Jair Murphy. Memo line: Miss you tonight.

Katelyn sucked in a lungful of air. She lunged forward, manicured hands clawing for the device.

Gemma caught Katelyn’s wrist in mid-air. Her fingers clamped over the nerve cluster below the joint. A violent, paralyzing numbness shot straight up Katelyn’s arm, forcing a strangled, agonized gasp from her throat instead of a scream. Gemma released the pressure instantly, leaving nothing but a deep, throbbing ache.

She shoved Katelyn away in disgust. She pulled a wet wipe from the table and meticulously cleaned the fingers that had touched Katelyn’s skin.

“Plan B.” Gemma read aloud from the chat logs on her screen. “Ruin her tonight. Make sure the Hubbard boy sees it.”

Katelyn’s legs completely gave. She collapsed onto the carpet. The perfect, supportive best-friend facade shattered into a million unrecoverable pieces.

She crawled forward and wrapped her arms around Gemma’s calves, sobbing hysterically. “He made me do it! Jair forced me! Please, Gemma!”

Gemma kicked her leg out, sending Katelyn sprawling onto her back.

“You did it because you want the Vargas trust.” Gemma’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper.

Katelyn stopped crying instantly. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted wildly, a new, deeper layer of horror washing over her.

She thought Gemma knew. She thought the bastard secret was out. Her jaw trembled so violently her teeth clicked together.

Gemma watched the panic consume her. She purposefully didn’t mention the paternity. She let the unknown terror rot Katelyn from the inside out.

“If a single negative word about me hits the press tonight,” Gemma said, leaning down until her face was inches from Katelyn’s, “these files go straight to the NYPD Financial Crimes Task Force.”

Katelyn nodded her head so fast it looked like a spasm. Snot and tears smeared across her heavily contoured face.

Gemma reached out and patted Katelyn’s pale, wet cheek with two freezing fingers.

“Get out of my house. If I ever see you near Brion again, I will end you.”

Katelyn scrambled to her feet. She ripped the door open and bolted into the hallway.

She practically collided with a group of three socialites gliding past.

The women stopped, eyes widening at Katelyn’s ruined makeup, her disheveled hair, the frantic, animalistic look in her eyes. One of them let out a muffled scoff of disgust.

Katelyn’s fragile, inflated ego snapped. The humiliation of being looked down upon by the elite burned away her fear, leaving only a toxic, blinding rage.

She whipped her head around and glared at Gemma, who stood perfectly composed in the doorway.

Reason left Katelyn’s brain. She spun around and sprinted down the hall toward the grand spiral staircase.

Gemma’s eyes narrowed. Her muscles coiled. She couldn’t let this lunatic get near the cameras.

She bolted after her. Her heels dug into the thick carpet, closing the distance in seconds.

Katelyn reached the top of the marble stairs. She grabbed the heavy stone banister with both hands, chest heaving, preparing to scream.

Gemma stopped exactly three steps behind her. She looked past Katelyn’s shoulder, straight down into the crowded ballroom below.