The Ruined Heiress Plans Her Vicious Revenge

I was the heiress to the Sterling Group, engaged to Brook, the ultimate Wall Street savior who stepped in with emergency capital when my family's company faced sudden bankruptcy.

But one morning, I accidentally answered his hidden burner phone.

It was my sweet best friend, Chelsey. Through the speaker, I heard them laughing about how they successfully framed my brother for an eight-year federal prison sentence just to get the Sterling heir out of the way.

Worse, Brook casually admitted he had bribed the nurses at the private facility to swap my father's life-saving heart medication with placebos.

"Nature will take its course," he said coldly.

He was paying to let my father die so he could drain my last architectural patents, transfer them to his own enterprise, and kick me to the curb. Seconds later, Brook walked into the bedroom, brushed my hair behind my ear, and lovingly called me his sleeping beauty.

A wave of pure, physical nausea crashed over me. The man I was about to marry, the man the media praised as a fiercely devoted hero, was the monster orchestrating my family's complete destruction.

Tears were a luxury I could no longer afford.

I didn't scream, and I didn't confront him. Instead, I washed my face, slid the five-carat diamond ring back onto my finger, and drove straight to his headquarters.

If he wanted to use my family's tragedy to build his empire, I would play the perfect, broken fiancée—right until I burned it all to the ground.