The Homeless Man I Saved Was Actually a Billionaire

cold metal table, the restraints biting i

ghtly to her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs, like a frantic

him. Brandon Figueroa. The man who had once

air styled flawlessly. But his eyes-his

f she had swallowed sandpaper. She screamed it over and over aga

out. A delicate figure quietly stepped

y. Debora's

ce. She raised her left hand, and the enormous diamond on her ring finger flashed, a b

e intercom like a venomous snake. "Brandon is my fiancé now. He is also th

desperately searching his face for a flic

at the floor,

s. The great Debora Finley, the top student at Columbia Law, the rising

ruck like a

ile. "After all, you have three whole years to adjust. And

lunged forward, the handcuffs crashing against the table with a

t page showed a glamorous photo of her

ct together?" Laura said softly,

g. Her eyes were l

you are? Just some poor girl who clawed her way up through scholarships! Why di

am. He grabbed Debora's wrist, his fin

t me. It's bet

d that scar.

, it was Brandon who shoved her to the ground. It was Brandon who ground the heel of his expensive shoe

DUI manslaughter, is hereby sente

e judge's cold voice ec

e was back in her room. She ga

uised purple. Most of t

n after three years, she could still feel the uneven ridge

bed, a dresser, a small table. Eight hundred dollars a mo

that had once courted her now shunned her. She wa

o the cold floor and walked to the small sink in the corner. She

hers. Still stubborn. She stared at her reflection, her lips moving sile

was the fuel. Laura, Brandon... she would not let

ity sanitation worker from the dresser and

an up the city's trash t