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The Mute Heiress: Her Cold Silent Revenge
img img The Mute Heiress: Her Cold Silent Revenge img Chapter 3 3
3 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 3 3

The park bench was cold, damp from the morning mist. Isla sat with her tablet balanced on her knees, watching the red line on the graph plummet.

Curtis Dynamics: -2%

Pruitt Enterprises: -18%

It was a bloodbath.

Isla tapped the screen, initiating Phase 2. A script she'd written weeks ago began to run. It scraped the cloud backups of Chase's phone-the ones he thought he'd deleted.

Thousands of text messages began to populate on Twitter, tagged with PruittLeaks.

Isla watched the feed refresh.

_Chase: "The old man is losing it. Robert can't even read a balance sheet anymore. Once we're married, I'll push him out within a year."_

_Brande: "Just make sure I get the jewelry before you put him in a home."_

Isla took a deep breath. The air tasted like rain and exhaust.

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

_Grandfather wants to see you._

Isla closed the tablet. Her hands were trembling, not from fear, but from adrenaline. Arthur Pruitt didn't do family dinners. He did acquisitions and liquidations.

A black Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down. Alfred was in the driver's seat, his expression grave.

Isla climbed into the back. The interior smelled of leather and cedar. Alfred handed her a manila folder without a word.

Inside was a copy of her mother's trust. Highlighted in yellow was a clause Isla had memorized years ago: _Beneficiary gains full control upon marriage or reaching the age of twenty-five._

_Or, in the event of gross mismanagement by the trustee._

They drove in silence to the estate. Not the mansion where Isla lived, but the main house. Arthur's fortress.

He was sitting in his wheelchair by the fireplace, staring at the flames. He didn't turn when Isla entered the library.

"You made a mess," his voice rasped. It sounded like dry leaves scraping together.

Isla sat in the leather wingback chair opposite him. She pulled out her phone.

_I cleaned the wound. Robert let it rot._

Arthur turned his chair. His eyes were milky with age, but sharp. He threw a newspaper at her feet. "Our reputation is in the toilet."

_It was already there. I just flushed._

Arthur stared at Isla. A corner of his mouth twitched. "You have your mother's stubbornness. And your father's cruelty. Dangerous mix." He gestured to the folder. "Your mother also left you a physical key. A signet ring. She said it was for the vault at the old Swiss bank, the one that only recognizes family crests. You find that ring, you find her real legacy."

Isla didn't blink.

_Chase is embezzling from Sterling Industries to pay for Brande's lifestyle. If the SEC finds out before we cut ties, Pruitt goes down with them._

Isla held up the tablet, showing him the spreadsheet of Chase's unauthorized transfers.

Arthur leaned forward, squinting at the numbers. He was a shark smelling blood.

"If I back you," he said slowly, "what do I get?"

_Plausible deniability. The stock recovers. I force Chase to cover the losses. And I want my mother's assets released to me. Today._

"You can't speak," Arthur scoffed. "How will you run a meeting?"

Isla met his gaze, her expression unyielding. She didn't need to type. Her silence was the answer.

Arthur laughed. It was a dry, hacking sound. "Fine."

The library doors burst open. Robert and Elena rushed in, looking disheveled.

"Father!" Robert shouted. "You have to stop her! She's destroying us!"

Arthur didn't even look at them. He pointed a bony finger at Isla. "She reports to me now."

Elena gasped. "Arthur, you can't be serious! She's... she's defective!"

Arthur picked up a heavy crystal tumbler and hurled it. It smashed inches from Elena's feet. She shrieked and jumped back.

"Get out," Arthur commanded. "And take your whore of a daughter and that thief she's sleeping with out of my sight."

Robert turned purple. He looked at Isla, betrayal written in every line of his face. She just sat there, her hands folded in her lap, perfectly still.

"Isla stays," Arthur said.

Isla watched them leave. For the first time in her life, the silence in the room wasn't oppressive. It was power.

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