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The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior Novel Cover

The Jilted Heiress And Her Ruthless Savior

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.
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Chapter 4

Elinor pushed open the heavy soundproof door of Practice Room B. The smell of old wood and lemon polish hit her face.

She dropped her canvas bag on the floor. She walked straight to the black Steinway grand piano in the center of the room. She grabbed the edge of the lid and shoved it open.

She did not pull out any sheet music. She sat on the leather bench. She raised her hands and slammed her fingers down on the keys.

She played Liszt's La Campanella. She played it too fast. She played it with brutal force.

The rapid notes bounced off the padded walls. The sound was violent. It matched the burning anger in her chest.

Her fingers flew across the black and white keys. The physical exertion forced another memory to the surface. The end of senior year.

A massive thunderstorm rolled over The Hampton Estate on Long Island. Thunder shook the glass windows.

Elinor walked up the grand staircase. She carried a heavy binder full of AP History notes. Her shoes sank into the thick Persian rug in the hallway.

She walked toward the study. The heavy mahogany door was cracked open.

Beatrice's voice pierced through the gap. She was screaming.

Beatrice threw a stack of thick paper transcripts right at Howell's face. The papers hit his nose and scattered across the floor.

"Your GPA is below a 3.0!" Beatrice roared. "The Ivy League is going to reject you because of that trailer trash!"

Howell's neck turned red. The veins popped out against his skin. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace like a trapped animal.

Elinor stopped walking. She stood outside the door. She looked through the crack.

Beatrice pointed a finger at him. She ordered him to cut Carrie off immediately. She told him to focus on his upcoming engagement dinner with Elinor.

Howell stopped pacing. He heard Elinor's name. He let out a harsh, ugly laugh.

He grabbed a heavy crystal whiskey glass from the desk. He pulled his arm back and hurled it at the brick fireplace.

The glass shattered. The explosion of crystal shards sounded like a gunshot.

Howell pointed at the door. He screamed at his mother. He said Carrie meant more to him than any of the fake East Coast elites.

His eyes were wild. He yelled that Elinor was a lifeless puppet. He said he would rather die than marry a robot with no soul.

Lightning flashed outside the window. The bright white light illuminated Elinor's face in the hallway. Her skin was completely drained of color.

Her fingers lost all their strength. The heavy AP binder slipped from her arms.

It hit the Persian rug with a loud, heavy thud.

The screaming inside the study stopped instantly. Howell whipped his head around. He stared at the crack in the door.

He lunged forward and ripped the mahogany door open. The dim hallway light hit his panicked face.

He saw Elinor. She stood perfectly still. Her eyes looked at him like he was a rotting corpse.

Howell swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed. He reached his hand out to grab her arm. He whispered her name.

Elinor did not step back. She just stared at his floating hand. Her eyes were filled with pure disgust.

She opened her mouth. Her voice was steady and cold.

"The engagement is over," Elinor said. "Do not ever speak to me again."

She turned around. She kept her spine completely straight. She walked down the curved staircase. She did not look back.

The thunder from the memory merged with the piano in the room. Elinor raised both hands and smashed them down on the final chord.

The sound rang in the small room. Elinor panted. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The ice returned to her eyes.

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