Shattered Vows The Billionaire's Lost Daughter

After feeding Grandma Nora's body into the cremation furnace with her own hands, Hilda Summers declined Jasper Fairmont's ninety-ninth call and blocked his number.

She found her supervisor and withdrew her resignation, but asked to be transferred to a branch in another city.

Most people steered clear of the funeral industry, and Hilda was sharp and capable. When she'd first handed in her notice to get married, her supervisor had been genuinely sorry to see her go. Now, he agreed without hesitation.

When Hilda stood there in silence for a long moment, the supervisor spoke gently.

"Jasper's a good young man. Once you two are married and settled, your grandmother can rest easy. If I remember right, the wedding's supposed to be any day now. Are you pushing it back?"

Hilda opened her mouth. Her voice came out raw. "There's not going to be a wedding."

"A man like that, born into money and privilege, was never going to end up with a woman who works in a funeral home."

The supervisor froze, staring at the ashen pallor of her face. He didn't dare ask more.

Hilda swallowed the blood she'd bitten from the inside of her cheek and offered no further explanation. She tucked Grandma Nora's death certificate into her bag and walked out on unsteady legs.

Grandma had been getting on in years. Her one wish before she died was to see Hilda settled somewhere safe.

But on the eve of the wedding, Hilda had stumbled onto a conversation between Jasper and a friend.

"You two have been together seven years. What are you doing getting engaged to another woman?"

Hilda held her breath. Jasper's voice carried through the door, every word razor-sharp and clear.

"How am I supposed to marry her? You know the gap between our families. You have to marry within your class. And on top of that, she works at a funeral home. Can you imagine how embarrassing that is for the Fairmonts? I can't exactly offend my parents just to make her grandmother happy."

Even his friend sounded uneasy. "So you're engaged now. What about Hilda? Your wedding with her is in a few days."

Hilda's knees buckled. She nearly crashed into the vase by the study door.

Jasper heard the noise. His eyes went cold, and he started toward the door.

...

He sighed, his tone casual. "It's fine. I was never going to register the marriage with Hilda anyway. She won't find out. We'll just go ahead with the ceremony as planned."

"Keep your mouth shut about this, understand? If Hilda finds out, you know how she is. She'll cry and throw a fit and demand we break up. We've been together too long. I don't want any trouble."

His friend agreed without hesitation.

Hilda felt as though she'd plunged into an ice bath. In the last seconds before Jasper opened the door, some shred of survival instinct sent her stumbling back to the bedroom, where she locked herself in the bathroom.

She gripped the edge of the sink. Matching towels and toothbrushes sat on the counter. That very morning, she'd been leaning against Jasper right here, playfully swiping at him with his razor while he laughed.

Hilda stared at her reflection. Then she raised her hand and slapped herself across the face.

It hurt. God, it hurt.

She looked in the mirror, and the tears broke free all at once.

It wasn't a dream.

Why wasn't it a dream?

Seven years together. When they first met, Jasper Fairmont had been the golden boy gone wild, his name a permanent fixture on the school's disciplinary board for cutting class, fighting, smoking, and drinking.

Then Hilda transferred in, and everything changed. He quit smoking, quit drinking, gave up street racing. He became almost docile, reining in his temper, content to follow at her heels.

Everyone joked that the untamable Jasper Fairmont had been brought to heel by a quiet, well-behaved girl like Hilda.

And Hilda had believed it. She'd believed she was truly different to him.

She'd poured herself into planning their future together. Knowing her line of work would put him in an awkward position, she'd been ready to walk away from a career she'd built from the ground up.

She knew the Fairmont family looked down on her, so she'd hired an etiquette coach and painstakingly learned how to be a proper society wife.

The cuts on her fingers from flower-arranging lessons hadn't even healed. Under the running water they turned white and puckered, stinging so badly that tears streamed down her face.

Jasper knocked on the door. He said something had come up at the office and he needed to leave. He wanted a goodbye kiss.

He waited outside for a long time, hearing nothing but the rush of water. A prickle of unease made him reach for the door handle, but then Vivienne Blake's call came through.

"Jasper, you promised to come help me try on wedding dresses today. When are you getting here?"

Jasper glanced one more time at the sealed bathroom door, then lowered his voice. "I know, sweetheart. On my way."

He left in a hurry.

Hilda slid down the door until she was sitting on the cold tile floor, her back pressed against it. Only after his footsteps faded to nothing did the last thread holding her together snap, and a wail tore from her throat.

Grandma was lying in a hospital bed, still asking about the wedding. Hilda's jaw trembled the entire time she lied.

Over and over she said, I'm fine. Jasper's wonderful. Everything's fine.

But Grandma didn't believe her. Fighting through her illness, she went to Jasper's company behind Hilda's back and ran into Vivienne Blake at the front desk.

"This is Fairmont Group, ma'am. Are you confused? Why would your granddaughter's husband be here?"

Grandma thought the young woman looked kind. With shaking hands, she dug out a photo of Hilda and Jasper together and held it out to Vivienne, hoping she might help.

Vivienne took the photo and smiled sweetly.

"I think you've made a mistake. The man in this picture is my fiancé."

She held the photo up high for everyone in the lobby to see. "Take a look, everyone. That's my fiancé, isn't it? I have no idea who the woman next to him is. Ma'am, are you sure you have the right person?"

A crushing pain seized Grandma's chest. She kept repeating that it wasn't possible.

She shuffled forward and clutched Vivienne's hand. "Young lady, please don't say such things. You must have it wrong. How can you be the one marrying him?"

"Who else would it be?"

Vivienne arched one perfect brow, tossed the photo to the floor, and let out a derisive laugh. "Surely you don't think your homewrecking granddaughter is the one marrying into the Fairmont family?"