Jilted Bride: The Billionaire Heiress Returns

Brenna's mind went blank, her legs suddenly feeling like lead, rooting her to the spot.

A black Bentley tore through the torrential rain, brushing past her like a bolt of dark lightning. The powerful slipstream of the speeding vehicle knocked Brenna off balance, sending her crashing to the wet asphalt.

She expected the car to speed off—after all, the road was deserted, and it would be easy to escape without consequence. But to her surprise, the vehicle reversed and came to a smooth halt right in front of her.

The door opened, revealing a pair of custom-made black leather shoes. Long, tailored legs stepped out in a steady, rhythmic stride. A black umbrella tilted over Brenna, shielding her from the relentless downpour.

"Are you alright?" Dillon's low, cold, and magnetic voice cut clearly through the sound of the rain.

Brenna looked up. The man standing over her possessed a razor-sharp jawline and striking, aristocratic features. His deep gray eyes held a subtle, compelling intensity that was strangely captivating.

Those eyes… She vaguely felt like she had seen them somewhere before, but the throbbing in her head pushed the thought away.

Brenna shook her head, her soft voice slightly raspy but entirely composed. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Bracing herself, she struggled to stand up from the ground. However, the scrape on her leg and the stinging cuts on her feet caused her knee to buckle. She started to fall back, but in that split second, a strong, powerful arm wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her into a solid embrace.

Brenna collided with Dillon's chest, instantly enveloped by the clean scent of rain mixed with a subtle, cold cologne. Instinctively, she pressed her hands against his chest to create distance. Even through the soaked fabric of his suit, she could feel the firm, hard lines of his muscles.

Her palms felt unnervingly warm against him. Subconsciously, she pushed against him, but instead of letting her go, Dillon abruptly swept her up into his arms.

Brenna frowned, a distinct chill gathering in her ice-blue eyes. "What do you think you're doing? Put me down."

She was a woman who guarded her boundaries fiercely; a stranger's sudden, uninvited intimacy immediately put her on high alert.

Dillon looked down at her, his gaze entirely open and unbothered by her hostility. "You're injured. You need to get to a hospital immediately."

"I—I can walk myself," Brenna insisted, highly uncomfortable with the close proximity. His overwhelming presence seemed to surround her from all sides, causing a string of tension to pull tight within her.

"Don't move," Dillon commanded, his voice low but carrying a firm, non-negotiable weight. Realizing her struggle would only worsen her injuries against his iron grip, Brenna conserved her energy and ceased her resistance.

The moment she was placed into the plush back seat of the car, a blast of cold AC made Brenna sneeze.

Dillon immediately reached forward to shut off the cold air. Glancing at her shivering frame, he stripped off his dry, warm suit jacket and draped it securely around her shoulders. "Careful not to catch a cold."

"Thank you," Brenna said evenly. The jacket still held his body heat and that distinct, clean scent, causing a strange, momentary flutter in her chest that she quickly suppressed.

Dillon's gaze flicked to the faint flush on her pale cheeks, a fleeting hint of a smile touching the depths of his eyes. "I'm the one who should be saying thank you."

"Excuse me?" Brenna looked at him, her tone calm but questioning.

Dillon met her gaze candidly, his voice unhurried. "Thank you for accepting my apology, and for giving me the opportunity to make amends for the accident."

The car sped through the city, arriving at the nearest hospital. Despite her injuries, Brenna steadfastly refused a wheelchair, insisting on walking on her own. Dillon didn't force the issue; instead, he patiently slowed his long strides, accommodating her limping pace all the way to the emergency room.

Sometime later, when Brenna emerged from the treatment room, she saw Dillon's tall silhouette at the end of the hallway. He was facing away from her, speaking quietly on his phone. Catching sight of her, he immediately ended the call and walked over with purposeful steps.

He extended a sleek business card to her, his demeanor respectful and composed. "This is my contact information. If you experience any complications or need anything further, please reach out to me."