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The Mute Bride's Secret Revenge Gamble
img img The Mute Bride's Secret Revenge Gamble img Chapter 6 6
6 Chapters
Chapter 7 7 img
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 6 6

Gustaf left the estate at noon for "physical therapy."

Alys knew he was going to a board meeting in a safe house.

She opened her laptop in the greenhouse. The keylogger had done its job. She had his password.

Access Granted.

Alys didn't look at Greer Industries files. She looked for Elena.

She traced her offshore accounts. And she found it.

The Debutante Ball.

Tonight. The Plaza Hotel. Brisa was being presented to society. The guest list was full of potential investors Elena was trying to seduce to cover the holes in the Flores accounts.

"Perfect," Alys whispered.

She hacked into the hotel's network, not the guest list. She didn't add names; she added vulnerabilities. She added three names to the media alert system: The most vicious tabloid journalists in the city.

Then she accessed the official invitation sent to the Greer estate. She simply RSVP'd 'Yes' for two, adding a note requesting special wheelchair access at the main entrance, ensuring their arrival would be a spectacle.

The door to the greenhouse beeped.

Alys slammed the laptop shut.

Gustaf rolled in. He looked at Alys, then at the computer. The screen was black, but the fan was whirring.

He wheeled over and touched the casing. It was warm.

He looked at Alys. He didn't ask.

He tossed a velvet box onto her lap.

"Put it on. We're going out."

Alys opened the box. A diamond necklace. Heavy, gaudy, old-fashioned. It was a collar.

She put it on.

The Plaza ballroom was a sea of pastel silk and fake smiles.

When Alys wheeled Gustaf onto the red carpet, the air changed. The cameras turned away from Brisa.

"Is that the sister?"

"Is that Gustaf Greer?"

They were the freaks. The spectacle.

Brisa saw them. Her face twisted. She marched over, holding a glass of red wine.

"You shouldn't be here," she hissed, leaning in to hug Alys. "You look like a dog wearing a crown."

Brisa pulled back. She stumbled, "accidentally" tipping her glass toward Alys's white dress.

Alys saw it coming a mile away.

She didn't step back. She pivoted. She rotated her hip, bumping Brisa's arm.

The wine didn't hit Alys. It splashed all over Gustaf's lap.

The ballroom went silent.

Brisa gasped. She had just soaked the most powerful man in New York.

Gustaf looked down at his ruined trousers. Then he looked at Brisa. His eyes were dead sharks.

Alys pulled a handkerchief from her clutch. She knelt, frantically dabbing at his legs.

Under the fabric, she pinched his thigh. Hard. Play along.

Gustaf looked at Alys. A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"Miss Flores," he said, his voice carrying across the silent room. "Your hospitality is as cheap as your wine."

Hector Flores ran over, sweating. "Mr. Greer, please, she didn't mean-"

"We're leaving," Gustaf said.

Alys wheeled him out.

In the private lounge, Gustaf stood up. He grabbed a towel and wiped his pants.

"You did that on purpose," he said.

Alys walked to the mirror. The steam from the adjacent bathroom clouded the glass.

She wrote with her finger: Oops.

Gustaf stared at the word. Then he looked at Alys.

"You're dangerous," he said.

Alys smiled. He had no idea.

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