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Sylvie never could have imagined that Thalia’s daughter–the one who’d supposedly been “recovering” abroad for years–was actually Alaric’s first love.
Life really did have a twisted sense of humor.
The very next moment, Clarisse walked up to her, flashing a sweet, apologetic smile. “Sylvie, I’m so sorry… Did we wake you up?”
Before she could finish, Sylvie slammed the door in her face with a resounding bang.
“Sylvie! Where are your manners?” Devin roared from the hallway. “Pack up your room. Clarisse likes it, so from now on, it’s hers!”
Sylvie let out a cold, mirthless laugh and flung open her closet, tossing her things into a suitcase.
Outside, voices drifted through the door.
“Devin, is Sylvie upset?” Clarisse’s voice was soft as honey.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s been spoiled since she was a kid.”
“But…”
“She’ll be marrying into the Orlando family soon. This house will be yours and your mother’s.”
Sylvie’s hand paused for a split second before her smirk grew even colder.
She quickly booked a flight to Orlando for the end of the month and kept
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packing.
Half an hour later, she wheeled her suitcase out of the room.
In the living room, Devin, Thalia, and Clarisse sat together on the couch, sharing snacks and watching TV, the picture of a perfect family.
Without sparing them a glance, Sylvie headed straight for the door.
“Stop right there!” Devin barked. “What now? Don’t forget what you promised!”
“Relax. I said I’d do it, and I will.” Sylvie didn’t even look back. “But I’m not spending the next two weeks here making myself sick.”
She went straight to the most expensive hotel in the city and booked a presidential suite.
For the next several days, Sylvie went on a shopping spree.
She bought the priciest wedding dress and splurged at auctions on antique jewelry for her own wedding gifts.
If she had to marry for luck, she’d do it in style.
Her phone buzzed nonstop in her purse, but Sylvie didn’t check it until she’d bought the final diamond necklace.
Thirty–eight missed calls–all from Devin.
The moment she answered, his furious roar blasted through the phone. “Are you out of your mind?! You blew through 500 million dollars in a day! Are you trying to bankrupt me?!”
“What’s the rush?” Sylvie sneered. “Once I’m married, you’ll have eight billion dollars coming in.”
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“But the money isn’t here yet! If you keep spending like this, the company will go under tomorrow!”
Sylvie’s laugh was icy.
That was exactly what she wanted–to ruin him.
As for that eight billion, she’d already decided that once she was in Orlando, she’d have the Garrow family in Orlando wire it straight to her personal account.
She wanted to see if Clarisse and Thalia would still stick around when Devin was left penniless.
“Did you really think everyone was as naïve as my mom? Sticking with Devin through thick and thin, working herself into the hospital, only to be driven to suicide in the end.”
At the thought of Paige, a sharp pain stabbed through Sylvie’s chest.
Her phone vibrated again–this time, a text from Alaric, “What’s with the attitude now? Why didn’t you come to the office today?”
Sylvie stared at the message for a long time.
For the past year, Alaric had insisted she report to the office every day for his so–called “discipline.”
But now that she was about to marry, what was left for him to control?
When she returned to the hotel, arms full of shopping bags, she found all her luggage dumped in the lobby.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice icy.
The front desk manager looked uncomfortable. “Ms. Ainsley, your card… It was declined. Per hotel policy…”
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Her phone buzzed again–this time, a message from Devin, “Since you want to cut ties, don’t use my cards. All your accounts are frozen.”
Sylvie stared at the screen until her eyes stung.
Finally, she replied with just two words, “Fine then.”
Dragging her suitcase down the street, Sylvie wondered what to do.
Her flight wasn’t until the end of the month–she had nowhere to go. Where would she stay for the next two weeks? What would she eat? What would she use?
Her suitcase was stuffed with wedding dresses and jewelry–none of which she could bring herself to sell. As for borrowing money…
She’d rather sleep on the street than beg those vultures in her social circle for help.
A bench in the nearby park would have to do. As soon as she set her suitcase down, a drunk man staggered over.
“Hey, gorgeous. All alone tonight?”
“Get lost.”
“No need to be so mean. Come have some fun with me…
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The man’s greasy hand landed on her shoulder. Sylvie raised her hand to slap him.
A scream pierced the night.
Alaric appeared out of nowhere, twisting the man’s wrist until it snapped.
Before Sylvie could react, he hauled her and her luggage into his car.
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“Let me go!”
Alaric clamped down on her struggling wrist. “What now?”
His voice was low and rough. “You’re homeless and still didn’t think to come to me?”
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