After Three Years in Hell, I Became the Heiress He LostChapter 1
Three years. Three years I'd been locked inside that psychiatric facility before Leon Vance finally came for me.
He stepped out of the car in a tailored suit, just as handsome and untouchable as ever.
The door swung open, and my son poked his head out. He spat in my face.
"You evil woman! You jinx! You killed my sister!"
The color drained from my cheeks. My lips parted, but nothing came out.
Leon stood off to the side, his voice flat and detached. "Pamela's sick. You two share a blood type. She needs a transfusion from you."
He paused, then added, as if it were a consolation prize:
"Don't worry. Once Pamela's better, we'll go back to living like a normal family."
Pamela.
Pamela Henson.
His late brother's widow. The woman who'd moved into his home and never left.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry. Not like before. I just nodded and said one word.
"Fine."
Leon blinked, caught off guard. The surprise vanished almost instantly, replaced by that familiar look of cold indifference.
"Looks like three years really did teach you to behave."
I let out a quiet laugh, the kind that meant nothing.
Because in one month, the ten-year promise I made with my father would finally come due.
——
Hayden Abbott's foot kicked against my shin. Again. And again.
I didn't flinch. Didn't speak. Just watched the scenery blur past the window.
We'd barely pulled up to the house when I spotted a slender figure kneeling at the bottom of the front steps.
Pamela Henson wore a spotless white dress, her eyes swollen and rimmed red, as though she'd been crying for hours.
When she saw us approach, her voice cracked with a perfect, trembling sob.
"Gloria Pruitt... I'm so sorry. You've suffered so much these past few years, and it's all my fault. I'm the one who—"
Something flickered in the depths of Leon's eyes. Pity. Tenderness. Gone in an instant, but I saw it.
Hayden tore away from me and threw his arms around Pamela's elbow. He whipped his head back and glared at me with pure venom.
"Mama Pamela, get up! This isn't your fault!"
"It's all because of her! She ruins everything!"
Mama Pamela.
Those two words drove into me like a needle straight through the eardrum.
This was my child. The child I'd carried for ten months, the child I'd nearly bled to death bringing into this world. And he called that woman Mama Pamela—and called me the one who ruins everything.