/1/128979/coverbig.jpg?v=20260920182555)
oe
ucker family is done k
s. "Eighteen years of charity! We fed you, we clothed you, and the second you finish col
the Tucker family's hug
duffel bags, packed wit
red in shiny diamonds. She looked at me like I was a pi
ord. My chest fe
ed on bad business deals. But in this house, nobody ever blamed
nda's back, Jes
blue leather folder i
th anger the second
old mentor taught me to write that proposal: Advanced Neural Therapy for Sports Injurie
er, my nam
ed in gold letters,
e, her eyes full of
with fake sweetness. "The manager of the New York Monarchs hockey team loved
hair, looking down at me li
age could never get within ten miles of Beckett Sinclair anyway. But in my hands? Tonight, it'
g Jessica's shoulder w
an like Beckett was born for a true lady with your pedigree. A charity case like Chloe should
at my coat pocket.
ding my jacket
d, ripped my purse open, and snatched
to the floor, my p
email notification from the State Medical Licensing Board: [URGENT:
ith Robert screaming about his company and Brenda threate
rd!" I shouted, re
rking night shifts at that diner while living under my roof! You ate our food! You used our electricit
designer bag, not leaving me a s
le my li
ollar I had earned
y, his hands shaking as he checked his luxury watch.
tense with stress. "Stop wasting time screaming. The styling team i
rson in this ho
ck the rage in my chest. I bent d
ar fell out of the pocket. It rolled across the fl
ad when I was left at t
wn. An ugly sneer
at disgusting p
lifted her silver heel and stomped
inding the worn cloth in
ac
re cruelty. "Trash belongs unde
ous fire explo
so cold, so full of murder, that Jessica'
and pushed
My fingers pressed into its bellsilver cas
needles and secret medi
bear with my sleeve, and slid the silver c
you ever tell anyone you know the Tuckers, we wil
then I looked dead
dn't
dn't
ead across my lips. A smile t
. "Keep my research paper, Jessica. But remember this: every
y two heavy
ca," I whispered softly. "I truly hope Becket
hrough the heavy front doors,
't loo

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