The Billionaire Who Wasn't Mine

nst my ear, a stark cont

voice, usually sweet, w

,000 for the influen

break. It' s an advance

exact moment. In my last life, this

k, even taking out a high-interest loan – all to cover the hole she blew

mpt, and the daughter I loved more than anything, who looked at me with h

cue boat, and her face, a mask of false grief, telling t

ed, "It' s for the best, Mom. If it wasn' t for him, we

here. They lef

t that man

the phone, demanding I say something, I