The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

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His dark gaze fixed upon her, unreadable as a moonless night.

Corrine met his stare, sarcasm pulling at her lips like puppet strings.

“Why that expression? Didn’t your decision crystallize the moment you abandoned me at the altar? Or perhaps it was settled the day Leah returned to our shores?”

Bruce retrieved a cigarette with practiced grace, the flame of his lighter dancing briefly in the tension-filled air. He drew deeply on the cigarette, exhaling words wrapped in smoke.

“This is the best choice. You’ve misunderstood Leah for too long. Continuing this charade would only deepen her wounds.”

Corrine’s unflinching gaze dissected the stranger before her as she sneered, “I wonder, is there anything you wouldn’t sacrifice at Leah’s altar?”

The cigarette died beneath his fingers as impatience flickered across his features.

“For three years, I’ve tried to bury my feelings for Leah, but love refuses to bend to will. I hope you can find forgiveness and spare Leah your anger. She bears no guilt in this.”

His words triggered a laugh that bordered on hysteria. Three years of devotion lay behind them—years where she had poured herself into loving him, believing that persistence could thaw his frozen heart. She had severed family ties, sacrificed her own dreams, all for the man who now dismissed their relationship with a cold “Love refuses to bend to will.”

Bruce observed her near-manic state, his frown deepening as an unexpected pain lanced through his chest.

“There’s a million in this card. Enough to ensure a comfortable life back in the countryside.”

In his mind, three years of her life apparently equaled a simple monetary transaction. He failed to comprehend that a million meant nothing to her.

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“Bruce, I didn’t stay for anything but you. The Ashton family’s wealth and power meant nothing to me. I never craved the envied title of Mrs. Ashton!” Frost seemed to emanate from Corrine’s delicate features, her eyes hardening with glacial resolve.

“Keep your apologies and your compensation. Remember this—there will never be reconciliation between us!” Her words hung in the air as she rose and strode toward the door.

Bruce watched her determined departure, feeling an invisible vice grip his heart, stealing his breath. His hand reached out involuntarily, grasping at emptiness.

As Corrine departed, she carried nothing of her own, yet curiously, she ended up with that man’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders.

Hobbling down the street, she shivered, oddly chilled despite the glaring sun that bathed the city in warmth. Fumbling with her phone, she dialed the number of her best friend, Karina Brooks, her voice trembling slightly.

“Karina, do you think you can come and pick me up?”

Twenty minutes later, Karina roared up to the curb in a gleaming red car. As she caught sight of Corrine’s bandaged leg, she swiftly removed her sunglasses, her eyes widening with stark concern.

“Sweetheart, what in the world happened to you?”

“Karina, is it okay if I stay at your place for a bit?” Corrine murmured, her voice weak as she slumped against the comfort of the seat, recounting her ordeal with Bruce as though she were detached from the narrative herself.

“That Ashton family is just a bunch of fools!” Karina exclaimed, her temper rising swiftly.

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