The Betrayed Heiress's Vengeful Flash Marriage

Ashley walked right past Edson. The automatic doors of the precinct slid open. The 2 AM wind hit her bare legs, carrying the smell of exhaust and damp asphalt.

She walked straight to the black Rolls-Royce parked at the curb and pulled open the heavy rear door. She slid onto the leather seat.

Edson stomped out of the precinct and threw himself into the passenger seat. He slammed the door so hard the chassis shook. "Drive to the Long Island estate. Now."

Ashley looked to her left. Brittany and Devon were pressed against the opposite door, trying to put as much space between themselves and Ashley as possible.

"Guilty conscience?" Ashley asked. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the car.

Devon leaned forward, his jaw clenched. "Watch your mouth, Ashley. You've done enough damage tonight."

Ashley closed her eyes. She rested her head against the cool glass of the window and completely ignored him.

The car was dead silent. The only sound was the rhythmic thud of the tires hitting the expansion joints of the bridge. Ashley calculated her heart rate. It was steady. She mapped out the layout of the Long Island manor in her head.

An hour later, the Rolls-Royce turned into the massive driveway. The wrought-iron gates groaned and clicked shut behind them. The physical lock echoed in the night.

Ashley pushed her door open. Her dress was half-dry, stiff with salt, chafing her skin. She kept her spine perfectly straight and walked up the stone steps.

She pushed the heavy oak double doors open. The crystal chandelier in the foyer blazed with blinding light.

Fleda Bell, her stepmother, sat dead center on the main living room sofa.

Justyn, Ashley's older brother, stood right behind Fleda. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was set. The entire room was staged like an execution block.

Fleda stood up. She forced her eyes to water. She rushed forward, reaching her hands out toward Ashley. "Oh, Ashley! You poor thing, you must be freezing!"

Ashley shifted her weight and stepped entirely out of Fleda's reach. Fleda's hands grasped empty air.

"Drop the act, Fleda. It makes me want to vomit," Ashley said.

Justyn lunged forward. His face was twisted in rage. He pointed a finger inches from Ashley's nose. "How dare you speak to her like that? You ruined your own party, you called the cops on your sister, and now you're disrespecting our mother?"

Ashley stared at her half-brother, the son of the woman sitting on the couch. The man who had been slowly poisoned by the woman sitting on the couch. Her chest felt hollow. "She's not my mother. And you're nothing but a brainless puppet."

Justyn roared. He raised his right hand high, aiming a vicious slap at her face.

Ashley didn't flinch. As his hand came down, she raised her left arm, blocking his wrist with her forearm. Her right hand shot out, gripping his wrist bone. She twisted his arm sharply backward.

Justyn screamed. His knees buckled from the intense pain in his shoulder joint.

As he bent over, Ashley's eyes locked onto the whites of his eyes. The sclera had a distinct, sickly yellow tint. Liver damage. The poison was already deep in his system.

"Stop it! Security!" Fleda shrieked.

Edson slammed his heavy wooden cane against the marble floor. "Enough!"

A maid scurried into the room, her head bowed. She held a silver tray with a steaming porcelain teacup. "Madam, the calming tea you requested for Ms. Ashley."

Fleda smoothed her skirt. "Drink this, Ashley. You are clearly having a manic episode. You need to calm down."

Ashley looked at the tea. The steam carried the scent of chamomile, but underneath it was a sharp, metallic chemical odor.

She picked up the cup. She swirled the dark liquid. A ring of unnatural, tiny bubbles clung to the porcelain edge.

"Haloperidol," Ashley said.

Fleda's breath hitched. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Ashley turned her wrist and dumped the boiling tea directly onto the million-dollar Persian rug. The dark liquid soaked into the silk threads.

Fleda gasped, clutching her chest.

"A heavy antipsychotic sedative," Ashley continued, her voice clinical and dead. "You wanted to drug me, lock me in a room, and tell the press I had a mental breakdown."

Fleda's voice went up an octave. "You are insane! Edson, listen to her! She has paranoia!"

Brittany sobbed from the doorway. "She's completely lost her mind, Dad!"

Edson rubbed his temples. He pointed a thick finger at Ashley. "I don't care about the tea. You will log onto your social media right now. You will post a video apologizing to Brittany and saying the police call was a misunderstanding."

Ashley looked at the man who shared her DNA. Her heart rate didn't spike. She felt absolutely nothing. "No."

Edson grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray off the coffee table. He hurled it straight at her head.

Ashley tilted her neck. The heavy crystal grazed her skin and smashed into the drywall behind her. Shards of glass exploded outward. A sharp piece sliced across the side of her neck.

A line of hot blood ran down her collarbone. She didn't blink.

"You're acting this desperate because there's a crisis in the company you can't handle," Ashley said, her voice dripping with ice. "You're throwing a tantrum because you're on the verge of bankruptcy, aren't you?"

Edson's face turned a mottled purple. The veins in his forehead pulsed. "Lock her up! Take her to the Idaho facility! Now!"

Six massive bodyguards rushed into the room. They formed a tight circle around Ashley, cutting off every physical exit. Their massive frames blocked the light.

Fleda smiled. Brittany wiped her fake tears, her lips curving upward.

Ashley slid her hand behind her back. Her thumb found the side button on her phone. She clicked it twice, activating the emergency voice memo recording. Her eyes darted to the gap between the two largest guards.

Before the guards could grab her shoulders, a deafening crash shook the entire house.

The heavy oak double doors of the manor were kicked open with such violent force that the hinges snapped. The wood slammed into the walls.

The butler tumbled into the foyer, groaning on the floor.