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The Phantom Heiress And Her Fake Lover Novel Cover

The Phantom Heiress And Her Fake Lover

Elodie was the Evans family's adopted daughter, living in a cold, isolated room while her sister Bristol enjoyed a life of luxury. Secretly, she was a top-tier freelance operative. Her adoptive family finally found a use for her. To secure a massive corporate merger, they decided to marry her off to Elwyn Lyons, a billionaire heir rumored to be a violent, dying psychopath. They did this just to spare their precious Bristol from the exact same arrangement. When Elodie hesitated, her adoptive father showed his true colors. He threatened to cut off the life-saving medical care for Gus, the poor man who had actually raised her. Her older brother even laughed about it with his friends in the dark. "If Lyons dies, she gets nothing. If he beats her, well... she's tough to break. Either way, she's a pawn." Hearing her brother casually discuss her potential death as a business strategy was the final blow. They didn't see her as a daughter, just a disposable shield. All those years of staying quiet to keep the peace turned to ash. She realized the people she called family were monsters who would eagerly trade her life for a few patents. Elodie threw an ironclad legal separation agreement on their coffee table and walked out forever. To secure Gus's medical funds, she accepted an eight-figure commission from a mysterious client. Her mission was to play a toxic lover and publicly destroy the Lyons engagement. Little did the Evans family know, the "sickly" heir was actually in peak physical condition, and he had just hired Elodie to ruin them all.
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Chapter 7

Elwyn leaned his head against the plush leather headrest of his Rolls Royce Phantom.

The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. He wore a tailored, charcoal-gray suit that fit perfectly across his broad shoulders. He emanated a dark, suffocating authority.

Arthur Page sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through an iPad. "Sir, The Sovereign Club has cleared the entire third floor. The Onyx room is completely secure. Total privacy."

Elwyn gave a single, curt nod. He didn't open his eyes.

His private cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out. The screen flashed with an incoming call: Bristol Evans.

A wave of pure disgust washed over him.

He pressed the red button, rejecting the call, and immediately blocked the number.

Arthur glanced back. "I take it the investigation into Bristol Evans is concluded?"

"She isn't the girl," Elwyn said, his voice hard. "Your report confirmed she was in the city ten years ago, but the timeline doesn't fit. More importantly, Bristol is a coward. The girl who pulled me out of that burning car had the eyes of a feral wolf. She fought. Bristol only whines."

"Understood," Arthur said. "I will widen the search parameters."

The Rolls Royce glided down a private alleyway and stopped in front of the reinforced steel doors of The Sovereign Club's underground entrance.

"Sir, I used your top-tier anonymous profile 'Kaden Bryan' reserved at The Sovereign Club," Arthur noted from the front seat. "They have cleared the floor and arranged for the manager to greet you personally."

Mr. Davies, the club manager, was waiting on the curb. He bowed slightly as Elwyn stepped out of the car.

"Good evening, Mr. Bryan," Davies said smoothly, using Elwyn's alias. "Everything is prepared."

Elwyn walked past him without a word, stepping into the private elevator.

Three minutes later, a sleek, black Ferrari SF90 roared into the club's secondary VIP garage.

Elodie killed the engine.

She stepped out of the car. She wore a backless, black silk gown that clung to her curves like liquid night. The slit ran up her thigh, revealing a silver stiletto. Her hair was pulled back into a severe, elegant knot. Her face, completely free of the birthmark, was a mask of cold perfection.

She tossed the keys to the valet and walked toward the biometric scanner.

She leaned in. The red laser scanned her iris.

The heavy steel door slid open. The digital screen flashed: Welcome, Ms. Surety.

Elodie walked into the club. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and aged bourbon. She bypassed the crowded main floor and headed straight for the private stairwell leading to the third floor.

She reached the top of the stairs and turned down the long, dimly lit hallway. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of her heels.

At the exact same moment, the elevator doors at the far end of the hall opened.

Elwyn stepped out, flanked by two massive bodyguards. He turned and started walking down the hall, heading straight toward her.

The lighting in the corridor was intentionally poor, casting deep shadows across their faces.

They walked toward each other. The distance closed. Fifty feet. Thirty feet. Ten feet.

Just as they were about to cross paths, Elwyn's smartwatch vibrated with a high-priority medical alert from his R&D team. He looked down at his wrist, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Simultaneously, Elodie pressed her finger to her earpiece, listening to Scrap confirm the security feed of the Onyx room. She turned her head slightly to the right, her eyes scanning a large oil painting on the wall to avoid eye contact with the approaching men.

They passed each other.

Less than two feet of space separated them.

Elwyn didn't look up, but as the woman in the black dress walked past, a scent hit him.

It wasn't heavy perfume. It was clean, sharp, and cold. Like pine needles buried under fresh snow. But underneath that icy freshness, there was a faint, almost imperceptible trace of a metallic ozone scent. It was the exact same combination of scents he had smelled in his bedroom last night.

Elwyn's footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. His chest tightened.

He stopped and turned around.

But the hallway was empty. The woman had already turned the corner.

Elodie stood in front of the heavy oak door marked Onyx. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. The man she just passed had a massive, overwhelming presence.

She took a slow breath, raised her knuckles, and knocked on the door.

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