The Jilted Heiress's Secret Revenge

From the back cover

My wedding day was supposed to be the merger of two dynasties, the day I was handed over on the steps of City Hall like a lamb to the slaughter.

Instead of a ring, my fiancé tore our marriage contract to shreds in front of the world's press. He screamed that my family was a "cesspool of lies" and that I was "damaged goods" he refused to accept.

The cameras swarmed me, their questions like daggers. Was I mentally unstable? Did I know about the family's secret debts? Had my father disinherited me?

I played the part of the broken doll perfectly, my shoulders shaking as I shrank into my white dress. Everyone saw a victim, a poor little rich girl publicly shamed and discarded. They thought my father's cruel world had finally crushed me.

They had no idea I wrote the script.

As the limo pulled away from the chaos, my driver caught my reflection in the mirror. The trembling bride was gone. In her place was a woman whose eyes held something he couldn't name.

It looked almost like satisfaction. And my performance was just the opening act.