orld

gainst my ribs, a f

from the door

prison Marcus had built for m

host loo

ph

ways abou

ered her with. The way his eyes

't just

oof. Someth

ace he conducted

was still and Marcus was out for

lined with dark wood a

as massive

d. Drawer

e, nothing abou

ll, almost hidden sa

s's birthday

cked. The heavy

ot cash o

o al

s of

with pictur

er, a grinning teenager.

le. "My Legacy

trust fund. Millio

led as I flipp

ther folder. M

hia

varian Ins

n't have

they needed

fertility" was lik

e insisted I t

t he recommen

lt s

d. A charity auc

for a massive blue diamond n

it to

red a rival, a South

ot ugly.

maternal grandfather, a former st

Smoothed things

ateful. Or s

ail pricked

ive birthmark on her left fo

Not a birthma

g break trip to New Orl

lling a man from a

. The wound healed into

scar once, joking ab

irthmark" a few mon

ad it, but it had faded an

ver saw his face clearly.

with cold, assessing

d it

rc

my story, my scar,

nto place, a horrify

down my face. H

d them

ore

ti

phone, the one Marc

ed a n

ough my grandfather's ol

g-term case against org

"It's Emily. Emily Corleone. I have information a

pa

ning, Mrs.

nge had