The Heiress Who Auctioned Her Murderer
7.4
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14
Chapters
36.0K
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Billionaire
Revenge
Thriller
Romance
Rebirth
Three years ago, Desmond Vance slipped a paralytic into my tea, forged my signature, and locked me in a black-site clinic to steal my family’s tech empire. He told the world I died of a sudden aneurysm. Tonight, he’s marrying a socialite on live television to secure a multi-billion dollar merger. But the hooded officiant standing at the altar isn't a priest. I've spent a thousand days learning how to walk, how to speak, and how to ruin him. I'm taking back my company, my life, and exposing the twisted medical secret he thought he buried with me.
Catalogue
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Chapter 1
The Cathedral of St. Jude was bathed in the blinding, artificial daylight of a dozen television broadcast spotlights. Gold leaf gleamed on the vaulted ceilings, and fifty thousand white orchids cascaded from the altar in fragrant, suffocating waves. In the front pews sat the most powerful titans of the tech industry, their eyes fixed on the spectacle unfolding before them. Desmond Vance stood at the center of it all, looking every inch the conquering king. His bespoke charcoal tuxedo fit him flawlessly, his jawline sharp and his smile radiating the practiced, benevolent charm that had made him the darling of Wall Street. Opposite him stood Sloane Mercer, swathed in half a million dollars of custom Vera Wang lace, her face veiled. This was not just a wedding. It was a coronation. The live broadcast was currently streaming to over four million viewers, the highly publicized union that would officially merge Mercer Holdings with Croft Industries, cementing Desmond as a billionaire twice over.Standing between them on the raised marble dais was the officiant. Draped in the heavy, traditional black velvet robes and deep cowl requested by the Mercer family’s archaic religious traditions, the officiant had remained silent, head bowed, an anonymous vessel for the holy sacrament. Desmond cleared his throat, his voice projecting smoothly through the hidden lapel microphone. "I, Desmond Vance, take you, Sloane, to be my wife. To honor, to cherish, and to protect. From this day forward, everything I have built is yours, just as my heart is yours."A collective, quiet sigh rippled through the pews. It was picture-perfect.The officiant slowly raised her head. The heavy velvet hood completely obscured her features in shadow, but when she spoke, her voice echoed through the cathedral’s state-of-the-art sound system. It was not the low, gravelly baritone of the elderly priest Desmond had hired. It was a woman’s voice. Silken. Cold. And painfully familiar."To harbor and protect," the officiant said, the words cutting through the reverent silence like a blade. "Just as you harbored my family’s legacy after you slipped a paralytic into my Darjeeling tea, Desmond?"Desmond froze. The flawless, charismatic smile curdled on his lips. His eyes darted to the hooded figure, his brow furrowing in irritation. He let out a breathless, confused chuckle, glancing at the cameras. "I'm sorry, what is this? Who authorized this change in the script?""There is no script, darling," the officiant replied, stepping forward. "Only the truth. And a thousand days of me learning how to breathe on my own again just so I could stand here and ask you a question."Murmurs erupted in the front pews. The board of directors exchanged bewildered glances. "Security," Desmond snapped, his voice dropping its warm veneer. "Get this lunatic off the altar. Now.""The question, Desmond," the officiant continued, her voice rising, commanding the massive space. She reached up with two gloved hands and gripped the edges of the heavy velvet cowl. "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, or did you forge her signature too?"With a sharp pull, the hood fell back.
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