The Unwanted Fiancée Was the Real Heir

"Why are you still standing here? Go clean yourself up!"

"Get out. You're embarrassing me."

I dragged myself upright, clinging to the voice I'd heard on that phone call, and hugged my own shoulders as I staggered toward the door.

But the moment I turned, Vivien's petulant whine rose behind me.

"Billy, she hasn't even apologized to me yet. You're just letting her leave…?"

"Everyone in Crestmont is going to think I'm a joke anyone can push around…"

"No rush."

Bill's voice went soft for her.

"Once she's your sister-in-law, she'll have the rest of her life to apologize."

"No!"

Vivien pulled free of his arms, her tone climbing higher with injury.

"Billy, are you feeling sorry for her? Do I even matter to you anymore?!"

"You promised you'd keep me safe—that's the only reason I gave up everything over there and came back…"

"That's not it!"

Bill rushed to explain,

then strode forward and planted himself in front of me.

"You're not leaving. Apologize to Vivien first."

"Actually, I don't need her apology anymore."

Vivien sauntered over, putting on that wispy little performance of hers, and pressed herself against Bill's chest. One finger pointed at the chain around my neck, her voice going syrup-sweet.

"I want that necklace. Call it her way of making it up to me…"

Bill didn't hesitate. His eyes locked on mine.

"Take it off."

I clamped my hand around the necklace and ground the words through my teeth.

"My mother left this to me. It's not hers to touch."

The chain looked plain enough,

but it was the only thing I had left of my mother.

And last night, the heir verification chip had been sealed inside it. With that chip, every door in every circle on earth opened for the Sanchez family. It was worth more than everything else the family owned.

I would never hand it over.

"Not hers to touch?"

Contempt and cruelty twisted together in Bill's eyes.

"Listen to me, Melinda. Nothing in all of Crestmont is off-limits to me. And nothing is off-limits to Vivien."

"Take it off. Now."

"Never."

I closed my fist around the necklace and turned to leave, done with both of them.

I made it two steps.

A fist knotted in my hair from behind and wrenched me back. Pain ripped across my scalp and a choked sound tore out of me before I could swallow it.

Bill's bloodshot eyes were right there. He grabbed my shoulder and hauled me in front of him.

The distance between us collapsed in an instant.

His breath, that familiar smell on his skin—it all hit me at once. I'd wasted my whole youth on those things.

Now they turned my stomach.

"Don't make me do this."

He stared me down, biting out each word.

"Take it off yourself, Melinda. While I'm still asking."

"In your dreams."

I wrenched myself free of his grip,

but in that same instant his hand closed around the chain at my throat.

He watched me the way a predator watches something it's already caught, and then he pulled.

The metal links bit into my neck,

cutting a raw red line into the skin.

He kept pulling.

The chain dragged against my skin, each link grinding in, and the pain was so sharp my whole body shook.

"You animal! Let go of me!"

A warped smile tugged at the corner of Bill's mouth. Then he yanked down—hard.

The chain snapped.

The necklace broke apart in his fist.