The Lethal Heiress: Too Late For Regret

The automatic doors of the VIP arrivals terminal slid open. A blast of cold Boston wind hit Ashlee's face.

She pushed a standard luggage cart. On it sat a heavy, black tactical duffel bag.

She looked through her dark sunglasses. She scanned the crowd waiting behind the velvet ropes. Her eyes locked onto two figures standing slightly apart from the rest.

Finley Maddox wore a charcoal gray Brioni suit. He checked his Patek Philippe watch. Next to him stood Averi Maddox.

Averi wore a pristine white Chanel tweed suit. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled. She looked like the ultimate innocent socialite.

Averi spotted Ashlee. Her face instantly transformed. A wide, bright smile stretched across her lips. She took quick, eager steps forward.

"Ashlee!" Averi cried out. Her voice was high-pitched and sweet.

Averi threw her arms open. She lunged forward to pull Ashlee into a tight, sisterly embrace.

Ashlee didn't blink. Her body reacted on pure instinct.

She shifted her weight to her right foot. She slid half a step to the left. The movement was smooth and completely effortless.

Averi's arms closed around empty air.

Her momentum carried her forward. Her high heel twisted on the polished floor. Averi let out a sharp gasp. She stumbled awkwardly, her arms flailing before she caught her balance. Her face flushed bright red.

From the corner of her eye, Ashlee saw a flash of light.

She turned her head slightly. Sixty feet away, half-hidden behind a concrete pillar, two men held long-lens cameras. They were snapping photos rapidly.

Finley saw Averi stumble. His brow furrowed in deep annoyance. He took long strides forward and grabbed Averi's arm to steady her.

He looked at Ashlee. His eyes were cold and critical.

"Is this how you behave after four years?" Finley hissed. He kept his voice low so the surrounding people couldn't hear. "You humiliate your sister in front of the press? Have you learned absolutely no manners?"

Ashlee reached up and pulled off her sunglasses.

She stared directly into Finley's eyes. Her gaze was completely dead. It was the look of a butcher staring at a piece of meat.

Finley's mouth opened slightly. He felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

"The guy on the left is using a Canon EOS-1D X," Ashlee said. Her voice was flat and bored. "The guy on the right has a Sony Alpha 1. You paid them to be here. You want a picture of the happy family reunion to boost your stock price."

Finley's face went rigid. His breath hitched in his throat.

He stared at her in shock. How could she possibly know the exact camera models from sixty feet away?

Averi's eyes filled with tears. She grabbed Finley's sleeve. Her lower lip trembled perfectly.

"Dad, don't be mad at her," Averi said softly. "She's been living in those horrible places in Eastern Europe. She just doesn't understand how things work in Boston."

Ashlee turned her head. She looked at Averi.

Ashlee took one step forward. She closed the distance between them. She stopped exactly ten centimeters from Averi's face.

Averi's breath caught. She looked up into Ashlee's eyes.

Ashlee leaned in. The scent of cold rain and mint washed over Averi.

"Say one more word," Ashlee whispered. Her voice was barely audible, but it carried the weight of a loaded gun. "And I will rip your tongue out of your mouth."

Averi's face drained of all color. Her stomach dropped. A wave of pure, physical terror crashed over her. Her hands started to shake. She took a frantic step backward, bumping into Finley.

A man in a black chauffeur uniform hurried over. He looked nervous.

"Miss Maddox, let me take your bag," the driver said.

He reached for the black tactical duffel on the cart. He grabbed the handles and pulled upward.

The bag didn't move.

The driver grunted. He planted his feet and pulled harder. His face turned red. The veins in his neck bulged. The bag barely lifted an inch before dropping back onto the cart with a heavy thud.

Ashlee sighed. She pushed the driver aside.

She grabbed the handles with one hand. The muscles in her arm tensed, and she lifted the heavy bag off the cart in one steady, controlled motion. There was no wasted energy, no trembling.

She walked to the waiting stretch Lincoln. She tossed the bag into the open trunk.

The heavy bag hit the floor of the trunk. A loud, metallic slam echoed in the parking garage. The entire rear end of the heavy Lincoln bounced on its suspension.

Finley's eye twitched. He stared at the trunk.

Ashlee didn't wait for the driver to open the door. She pulled the rear door open herself. She slid into the spacious cabin. She sat directly in the right-side passenger seat. It was the seat of power. It was Finley's seat.

Finley clenched his fists. He needed her signature on the trust fund documents. He forced himself to swallow his anger.

He guided the shaking Averi into the car. They sat on the rear-facing seats, directly opposite Ashlee.

The driver closed the door. The heavy thud sealed them inside.

The air in the car was suffocating. The smell of expensive leather and Averi's sweet perfume made Ashlee's stomach turn.

The car pulled out of the airport.

Finley forced a tight smile. "So, Ashlee. How were your years in Eastern Europe? Did you learn anything useful?"

Ashlee leaned her head back against the headrest. She closed her eyes. She ignored him completely.

Finley's face hardened. He looked out the window.

Averi sat quietly. She pulled out her phone. Her thumbs flew across the screen. She was texting her friends, complaining about the savage her parents had brought home.

The Lincoln drove through the wealthy suburbs of Boston. Hundred-year-old oak trees cast dark shadows over the road.

The car slowed down. It turned into a long driveway and stopped in front of massive wrought-iron gates. Beyond the gates stood a sprawling Victorian mansion.

Ashlee opened her eyes. The hunt was about to begin.