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Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Heiress
img img Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Heiress img Chapter 4
4 Chapters
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
Chapter 25 img
Chapter 26 img
Chapter 27 img
Chapter 28 img
Chapter 29 img
Chapter 30 img
Chapter 31 img
Chapter 32 img
Chapter 33 img
Chapter 34 img
Chapter 35 img
Chapter 36 img
Chapter 37 img
Chapter 38 img
Chapter 39 img
Chapter 40 img
Chapter 41 img
Chapter 42 img
Chapter 43 img
Chapter 44 img
Chapter 45 img
Chapter 46 img
Chapter 47 img
Chapter 48 img
Chapter 49 img
Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 img
Chapter 61 img
Chapter 62 img
Chapter 63 img
Chapter 64 img
Chapter 65 img
Chapter 66 img
Chapter 67 img
Chapter 68 img
Chapter 69 img
Chapter 70 img
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Chapter 4

At exactly seven o'clock, a sleek black town car pulled up to the grand entrance of the Plaza Hotel.

Dorene stepped out onto the pavement. She was wearing a blood-red, backless silk gown that clung to every curve of her body like a second skin. She wore no jewelry, letting the aggressive color and the sharp click of her four-inch stilettos do the talking. She kept her spine perfectly straight, her chin tilted up like a queen walking into a war zone.

She handed the crumpled gold-foil invitation to the security guard at the door. He checked the name, his eyes widening slightly before he pulled the heavy brass handles open.

The moment Dorene stepped into the grand ballroom, the blinding light from the crystal chandeliers washed over her. The room was packed with New York's elite, the air thick with expensive perfume and the soft hum of a string quartet.

As she walked further in, the lively chatter around her began to die down. It started as a ripple and quickly turned into a wave of silence. Dozens of eyes snapped toward her. She could feel the weight of their stares-mocking, curious, waiting for her to break.

Dorene ignored the whispers. She kept her eyes locked dead ahead, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished marble floor. She didn't flinch.

Her gaze cut through the crowd and found the center of the room.

Kadyn Paul stood near the ice sculpture, looking immaculate in a tailored tuxedo. His arm was wrapped protectively around Dolly Lowery's waist. Dolly was wearing a pure white lace gown, leaning into Kadyn's chest like a fragile bird. She was smiling brightly, accepting congratulations from a group of investors.

Kadyn turned his head to answer a question. His eyes swept across the room and collided violently with Dorene's icy stare.

The polite smile on Kadyn's face vanished instantly. His body went rigid. His arm, which had been holding Dolly tight, instinctively loosened.

Dolly felt the shift in his posture immediately. She followed his line of sight and saw Dorene standing there, glowing in red. A flash of pure, venomous jealousy ripped through Dolly's eyes, but she quickly masked it. She reached up and gripped Kadyn's bicep tighter, pressing her body flush against his to reclaim her territory.

Dorene watched Kadyn freeze, watched him allow Dolly to cling to him. A wave of pure nausea hit the back of her throat. She tore her eyes away from the sickening display and turned sharply toward the open bar at the far edge of the room.

She sat down on a velvet barstool and snapped her fingers at the bartender. "Whiskey. Neat. The strongest you have," she ordered, her voice hard and flat.

The bartender blinked, surprised by the harsh tone, but quickly poured a generous amount of amber liquid into a crystal glass and slid it over.

Dorene grabbed the glass and threw the liquor back in one violent gulp.

The alcohol burned a fiery trail down her throat and exploded in her empty stomach. It made her eyes water, but the sharp physical burn successfully numbed the dull, throbbing pain in her chest.

She slammed the empty glass down on the marble counter. "Again."

A few wealthy heirs lingering nearby took one look at the lethal aura radiating from her and wisely backed away.

Just as Dorene reached for her second glass, a hand with black-painted nails shot out from nowhere and snatched the glass right out of her grip.

Dorene spun around, fury flashing in her eyes, only to find Vivian Archer glaring back at her. Vivian's heavy smokey eye makeup made her look absolutely furious.

Vivian slammed the glass down on the bar, spilling whiskey over the edge. She leaned in close, her voice a harsh whisper. "Are you out of your mind? Why the hell are you here letting these people humiliate you?"

Dorene looked at her best friend. The iron wall she had built around her emotions cracked just a fraction. She let out a dry, bitter laugh. "I just came to see exactly how blind I was."

Vivian's eyes softened with pity as she saw the redness rimming Dorene's eyes. She grabbed Dorene's arm and pulled hard. "You've seen it. Now let's get the hell out of this disgusting place."

Dorene ripped her arm out of Vivian's grip. She shook her head stubbornly. "If I run away now, I prove them right. I will be the pathetic, dumped loser of New York by tomorrow morning."

Vivian ground her teeth together. She pointed a manicured finger toward the center of the room. "That little bitch sent you the invite just to torture you, Dorene!"

"I know," Dorene replied, her voice dropping to absolute zero as she stared at Dolly. "And I am not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry."

Before Vivian could argue, the crowd near the center parted. Dolly was walking directly toward the bar, holding two flutes of champagne. She was dragging a very reluctant-looking Kadyn by the hand.

Vivian saw them coming. She instantly stepped in front of Dorene, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at the approaching couple like a guard dog ready to bite.

Dorene reached out and gently pushed Vivian's shoulder aside. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and waited for the white-laced hypocrite to arrive.

Dolly stopped two feet away. She held out one of the champagne flutes toward Dorene. Her smile was sickeningly sweet. "Dorene, I am so glad you decided to come," she said, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

Kadyn stood slightly behind Dolly. He looked at the red silk clinging to Dorene's body, his eyes filled with a messy mix of guilt and frustration. He couldn't even look her in the eye.

Dorene didn't reach for the glass. She slowly looked Dolly up and down, her eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated disgust. She let out a short, mocking scoff and didn't say a single word.

Dolly's arm hung awkwardly in the air. The fake smile on her face twitched. She bit the inside of her cheek, a dark, calculating glint flashing in her eyes.

Suddenly, Dolly took a quick half-step forward, closing the physical distance between them.

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