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Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting
img img Broken Doll's Revenge: The Heiress's Sting img Chapter 7 7
7 Chapters
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 7 7

The apartment was dark, lit only by the blue glow of the laptop screen.

Sloane had gone to her night shift at the bar. Anna was alone.

She sat at the small desk, a USB drive plugged into the side of her computer. It was an encrypted drive she had stolen from her father's safe three years ago, just before they committed her.

A password prompt blinked on the screen.

Anna typed: Goya1799-PbCrO4. The inventory number for Goya's 'The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters,' followed by the chemical formula for chrome yellow, the pigment Felix had taught her was notoriously unstable. A password only they would know.

The folder opened.

Rows of spreadsheets filled the screen. Cayman accounts. Shell companies. Payoffs to judges. It was the anatomy of the Briggs family corruption, interwoven with Warren Capital's money laundering.

But Anna didn't look at the numbers. She clicked on a file named IMG_0045.jpg.

A photo opened.

It was Felix. He was standing on the roof of their old building, the sunset behind him turning the sky purple. He was laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners. He looked so alive.

Anna reached out and touched the screen. Her finger traced the line of his jaw.

"I miss you," she whispered. The tears came then, hot and fast. They dripped onto her hands.

Grayson looked a little like him. That was the sick joke of it all. She had let Grayson touch her because, in the dark, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was Felix.

But she never loved Grayson. She hated him. She hated him for being alive when Felix was dead.

"It's almost over," she told the photo. "I'm going to burn them down. All of them."

Her phone rang.

She jumped. She looked at the screen.

Mother.

Victoria Briggs.

Anna wiped her face with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath. She pressed answer.

"Hello, Mother."

"Grayson called me," Victoria said. Her voice was sharp, like breaking glass. "He said you struck him. Have you lost your mind?"

"He tried to force himself on me," Anna said.

"So?" Victoria snapped. "He is Grayson Warren! Do you know how much debt this family is in? Do you know what he pays simply to keep your father's legal bills quiet?"

"I don't care about the money," Anna said.

"You selfish little brat," Victoria hissed. "If you don't go to his penthouse right now, get on your knees, and beg for his forgiveness, I will cut you off. Completely."

"You already did that," Anna said. "Three years ago. When you let Dad sign those papers."

"I did what I had to do to save this family's reputation!" Victoria screamed. Then her voice dropped, becoming cold and venomous. "Listen to me, Anna. If you leave him, I will release your medical records. The ones from the asylum. The ones that say you are paranoid, delusional, and violent."

Anna's hand gripped the edge of the desk. Her knuckles turned white.

"You wouldn't," she whispered.

"I would," Victoria said. "You'll never get a job. You'll never be believed. You'll be the crazy ex-girlfriend who tried to kill herself. Grayson will make sure of it, and I will help him."

It was a death sentence. In New York, a reputation like that was worse than prison.

Anna felt the old fear trying to claw its way up her throat. But she looked at the photo of Felix.

Pain is just data.

"Do it," Anna said.

"What?" Victoria sounded confused.

"Release them," Anna said. "But you better do it fast. Because I have files too, Mother. And mine aren't forged."

She hung up.

She pulled the SIM card out of the phone and snapped it in half.

She sat there, breathing hard. The silence of the room felt heavy.

She turned back to the computer. She needed the final piece. The link between Jaylene Horne and the offshore accounts. It wasn't on the drive. It would be on the local server at the Warren Estate.

She had to go to the gala.

She had to walk into the lion's den.

Suddenly, the laptop screen flickered.

The file explorer window minimized. A text document opened itself in the center of the screen.

Anna froze. She hadn't touched the keyboard.

Letters began to appear, typed by an invisible hand.

I'm watching. - F

Anna stared at the letter F.

Her heart stopped. Then it started again, beating so hard it hurt.

F.

Felix?

No. It couldn't be. He died. She saw the car go into the water. She saw the police report.

It had to be a hacker. Someone messing with her.

Or...

She touched the screen again.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

The cursor blinked. No more words appeared.

But the message remained. I'm watching.

She wasn't alone.

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