ather chair and sat down. She k

. "Tell me your real name. And

her voice steady. "The illegitimat

is left ring finger. "I have heard the gossip. The Barrett trash who go

rretts framed me. They locked me out of the trust fund my mother left me.

ng pointed out, his eyes cold. "You d

den Barrett," Evelina fired back. "I n

n his steepled fingers. He looked at her

ront of my grandfather. A puppet who looks good at charity galas. I do no

. She pointed to the frosted glass

ivate bathroom," Evelina said. "I

oward the door with an open palm. His eye

f the marble sink and stared at her reflection. The ugly

all plastic bottle of industrial-grade solven

bed hard. The hyper-realistic red pigment began to melt. T

ck-rimmed glasses and thr

ck, dark, wavy hair tumbled down her back. She then peeled off the thick, clip-in bangs

ver her face, washing away the last traces of the solv

s a woman with flawless, pale skin, high cheekbones, and striking, pre

e minute

r. The latch clicked lou

nd walked back out. Her st

ne. At the sound of her footste

slipped slightly in his grip. Raw, unfil

tcast. This is a woman wh

e crossed her arms over her chest and looked dow

able for your banq

the sound harsh in the quiet room. He forced his fa

ce tight. "But you are still a Barrett. They are leeches. I

cal skills were not enough to break this