The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior Novel Cover

The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior

9 / 10.0
My fiancé, Howell, bought every red rose on the East Coast and dumped them on the campus quad. My roommates thought it was the apology of the century, begging for me back. But I have a fatal pollen allergy. If I walked into that heart-shaped sea of flowers, my throat would swell shut in minutes. "He's an idiot," my friend yelled. "How does your fiancé forget your medical history?" I just pulled out my EpiPen and put on a mask. "They are not for me." They were for Carrie, the manipulative girl he had repeatedly chosen over me. For years, he blamed me every time she put him in danger, eventually breaking our engagement to protect her fragile act. While he waited for her in that deadly cloud of pollen, Carrie was busy dropping a heavy terracotta pot from a third-floor balcony, slicing my arm to the bone. When Howell finally called Carrie's name on the megaphone, the embarrassed crowd panicked and fled. I was caught in the stampede. A girl slammed into me, ripping my fresh stitches wide open. As hot blood poured down my arm and my lungs burned from the distant rose oil, I watched Howell smile at the girl who was actively trying to kill me. The absolute selfishness of it erased my last drop of pity. Just as my knees buckled, a massive arm wrapped tightly around my waist. Darion Green, the ruthless and untouchable student body president, scooped me up into his chest, his pitch-black eyes glaring at the crowd with murderous fury.

The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior Chapter 1

The heavy oak door of the dorm room slammed open.

The wood hit the drywall with a massive crash that vibrated through the floorboards.

Leighton stood in the doorway. She was gasping for air. Her blonde curls stuck to her sweaty forehead. She waved her iPhone in the air like a weapon.

Zoe sat cross-legged on the rug. The loud noise made her hand jerk. A thick streak of red nail polish smeared across her cuticle and onto her skin.

"What is wrong with you?" Zoe yelled. She wiped at the wet polish with her thumb. "You ruined my French tip."

Leighton did not look at her. She kept gasping.

"He bought them all," Leighton screamed. "Howell Hampton just bought every red rose in three states on the East Coast."

Genevieve poked her head over the edge of the top bunk. Her eyes were wide.

"Where are they?" Genevieve asked.

Leighton shoved her phone screen toward the center of the room. She opened the campus Snapchat group. A live video played on loop.

Hundreds of freshman fraternity pledges were running across the main quad. They carried massive bundles of red roses. They dumped the flowers directly onto the green grass.

Leighton turned her head. She stared at the desk in the corner. Her eyes were full of manic jealousy.

"Congratulations, Elinor," Leighton said loudly. "This is the apology of the century. He is begging for you back."

Elinor kept her eyes on the heavy macroeconomics textbook in front of her. She did not blink. Her eyelashes stayed perfectly still.

She reached out and turned the page. The thick paper made a dry scratching sound against the desk.

Zoe stopped wiping her ruined nail. She looked at Elinor's rigid back.

"Why are you just sitting there?" Zoe asked. "You need to change your clothes."

Elinor closed the textbook. The heavy cover hit the desk with a dull thud. The sound sucked all the air out of the room.

She reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer. She took out a clear plastic medical box.

Her fingers flipped the metal latch. She pulled out an unused EpiPen. The plastic casing felt cold against her palm.

Leighton dropped her phone. Her smile vanished. She stared at the needle.

"What are you doing?" Leighton asked.

Elinor turned her chair around. Her voice was completely flat.

"I have a fatal pollen allergy," Elinor said.

Genevieve sucked in a sharp breath. She covered her mouth with both hands. The realization hit the room. The sea of roses on the quad was not a romantic gesture. It was a death trap.

A warm spring breeze blew through the half-open blinds. It carried a thick, heavy scent of rose oil into the dorm.

Elinor felt her throat tighten. A sharp itch crawled down her windpipe, a warning sign of the swelling to come. Her lungs felt heavy. She frowned. She knew it hadn't reached the critical stage of anaphylaxis yet, but she needed to suppress the initial reaction. She popped open a small bottle in the medical box and shook out two strong antihistamine pills as a preventative measure. She grabbed her bottle of Evian water, throwing the pills into her mouth and swallowing them dry before drinking the water. She kept her eyes locked on the EpiPen resting on her desk, ready to strike her thigh if her breathing completely stopped.

Zoe stood up. Her face turned red with anger.

"He is an idiot," Zoe yelled. "How does your fiancé forget your medical history?"

Elinor pulled a tissue from the box. She wiped a drop of water from her chin.

"They are not for me," Elinor said.

The three roommates stared at each other. Their faces twisted in confusion. They could not process the information. In their minds, no one else on the East Coast deserved this kind of display except Elinor Clemons.

Zoe suddenly snapped out of her shock. "Are you kidding me?!" Zoe screamed, her face pale. She lunged across the room and slammed the half-open blinds shut, locking the window tight. "That bastard is actually trying to kill you!"

Genevieve scrambled down from the top bunk, her hands shaking. "Elinor, what do we do? Do you need us to call an ambulance? Let me get campus security!"

Leighton dropped her phone on the rug. "I'll go out there and stop them. I swear I'll rip those flowers apart."

Elinor raised a hand, stopping their frantic movements. "No," she said calmly.

Elinor did not say the name Carrie. She did not want the taste of that name in her mouth.

She grabbed her canvas tote bag. She shoved the EpiPen inside. "I will be fine. Do not engage with him."

She pulled out a black N95 mask. She stretched the elastic bands over her ears. The thick material covered the bottom half of her face. It blocked out the smell of the roses.

She walked to the door. She needed to get to the music building. It had the best air filtration system on campus.

Elinor stepped out into the hallway. Girls were running past her, heading toward the stairs to see the spectacle.

She turned the opposite way. She walked against the crowd, her shoulders stiff, heading toward the exit alone.

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The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior of Contents

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