Chapter 1 - The Return of the Crawford Heiress
The two tiny baby teeth lay in the center of my palm,
white and stained with a terrifying shade of crimson,
looking like broken pearls scattered on a battlefield.
I could feel the heat radiating from Hazel’s cheek,
where the imprint of Cassandra’s hand burned like a brand of shame.
The marble floor beneath my feet felt like ice,
a coldness that had slowly been seeping into my soul for six long years.
Cassandra stood there,
wiping a microscopic smudge of blood from her silk designer dress,
her face twisted into a mask of indignant rage.
"She's a brat, Spencer,"
she hissed,
looking at my husband for validation.
"You need to teach your wife how to discipline her properly,"
"before she ruins something truly valuable."
Spencer didn't even look at his daughter,
the child who carried his name,
the child who was currently shaking with a silent,
soul-crushing terror.
He simply adjusted the gold links on his cuffs,
his eyes bored and impatient.
"Gwen,
take her to the kitchen and clean up that mess,"
he said,
his voice like a flat stone skipping over water.
"We have a gala to attend,"
"and I won't have you embarrassing me with your incompetence."
I looked at him,
really looked at him,
and realized the man I had married was nothing but a hollow shell,
filled with the rot of his own arrogance.
I didn't scream,
I didn't throw the teeth back at them,
and I didn't beg for an apology that would never come.
I simply knelt down,
my knees clicking against the expensive stone,
and pulled Hazel into my chest.
"It's okay,
my brave girl,"
I whispered into her hair,
feeling her small heart beating like a frightened bird.
"The nightmare is over now,"
"I promise you."
Patricia Albright,
the matriarch of this house of cards,
glided into the room like a vulture in Chanel.
"Goodness,
what is all this noise?"
she asked,
her eyes flicking to the blood on the floor with utter disgust.
"That child is a walking disaster,"
"just like her mother."
"Spencer,
why do you still allow this commoner to occupy our space?"
I stood up slowly,
handing Hazel to our nanny,
Sarah,
the only other person in this house with a heart.
"Take her to her room,
Sarah,"
"pack a bag for her and for me,"
"and don't let anyone near her."
Sarah nodded,
her eyes wide with understanding,
and hurried away.
I turned to face the three of them,
the trio of cruelty that had been my world for half a decade.
"You think I'm a commoner,
Patricia?"
I asked,
my voice dropping to a register that made Spencer pause.
"You think I have no family,
no power,
no reach?"
"You think I'm the charity case you rescued from the dirt?"
Spencer laughed,
a harsh,
dry sound.
"You were a waitress when I found you,
Gwen."
"A nobody with a pretty face and a fake name."
"I gave you everything,"
"the clothes,
the jewelry,
the roof over your head."
"Without me,
you're just a girl in a red string bracelet."
I looked down at the red string on my wrist,
the humble symbol of the vow I had made to my father.
He had told me that if I wanted to marry for love,
I had to do it as a regular person,
to ensure the man loved me and not the Crawford billions.
He had warned me that men like Spencer Albright were hunters,
not husbands.
I had been a fool to think I could change him.
With a sharp tug,
I snapped the string,
the fibers fraying and falling to the floor like the remnants of my patience.
"The vow is broken,
Spencer."
"And so is your luck."
I walked to the hidden compartment beneath the stairs,
my heels clicking with a new,
deadly purpose.
I pulled out the black satellite phone,
the one that linked me to a world they couldn't even imagine.
I dialed the number of the one man who had been waiting for this call for six years.
"Thomas,"
I said,
my voice as cold as a winter grave.
"It's Gwen."
"The Albright debt is called in."
"Initiate the hostile takeover of Albright Enterprises immediately."
"Freeze their lines of credit,"
"audit their offshore accounts,"
"and prepare the private jet."
"I'm coming home,"
"and I'm bringing my father's wrath with me."
There was a pause,
then Thomas’s voice,
thick with emotion,
responded.
"Understood,
Ms. Crawford."
"The world is yours again."
I hung up and walked back into the living room,
where Spencer was laughing with Cassandra.
"Who were you talking to?"
he sneered.
"Your imaginary friends?"
I didn't answer.
I simply picked up the divorce papers from the table,
crossed out the custody clause for Hazel with a bold,
black ink,
and signed my name.
"I'll see you at the gala,
Spencer."
"Enjoy your last hour of luxury,"
"because by midnight,"
"you won't even own the shoes you're standing in."
I walked out the door,
holding Hazel tightly,
leaving behind the woman I had pretended to be.
May you like
The heiress had returned,
and the blood on my hands was about to be replaced by the blood of my enemies.
