Surprisingly, she backed off. She was convinced her seduction skills alone could land her the guy. Said rich people didn’t care about natural births anyway—most of them hired surrogates. This way, she could keep her figure and still lock down the bag. A win-win.
Or so she thought.
Turns out, the wedding night didn’t go as planned. No matter how much she tried to please him, the guy lost it. The moment he realized something was off, he called off the marriage—right there, in bed.
Humiliated. Rejected. Shamed in front of an entire dynasty.
And somehow, she decided I was the one to blame.
That night, she lit the fire that killed me.
Thinking about it now, I knew what I had to do.
If I couldn’t stop her, I’d at least make sure she and Owen were locked together. That way, the cheating scumbag and the manipulative vixen would be too busy wrecking each other to ruin anyone else’s life.
“Don’t worry, Alison,” I said sweetly. “Your secret’s safe with me. Aunt Hannah will never hear it from me.”
Once the door shut, I pulled out my phone and texted my darling boyfriend.
[Miss you, babe.]
Along with it, I sent a few choice photos—lingerie, props, the whole nine yards.