Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

“Oh, and Coraline is the child of a human trafficker.” Colin said with dead–serious eyes. “She was deliberately swapped with a wealthy family’s baby. It wasn’t a mistake at all. She just wanted her own granddaughter to live the high life.”

Still reeling from the shock and barely coming to grips with the revelation, I glanced at my phone. Coraline Larson, the heiress of the Larson family, was the daughter of a kidnapper.

The twisted fates of Coraline, the faux heiress, and the true heiress, Foebe Larson.

A source revealed that to drive away the real heiress, Coraline led a high school clique that bullied Foebe Larson, tormenting her and causing harm. Now, the evidence was out there for the world to see.

Coraline suddenly became infamous, her story plastered across every headline.

A flood of those in the know from back in the day began to spill the beans online, complete with photos and hard evidence.

I had no doubt that the Larsons, with their clout, were trying to squash the story. After all, Coraline was their meticulously groomed poster girl, a socialite of the Larson name, a bargaining chip in the marriage alliance with the Helm family.

But Foebe Larson? She was just a pawn.

Yet, the story had been burning up the trending charts since last night, with no sign of being pushed down. Unless there was some greater power and capital backing it, there was no way it could have gained such traction and maintained it.

I cast a suspicious glance at Colin, who was fussing with the waistband of his underwear, muttering under his breath. “Phoebe doesn’t care about me. It hurts so much.”

He was playing the sympathy card, but it was effective.

“The doctor said to keep it dry,” I warned in a low voice, pulling him into the bathroom to clean him up with a damp cloth. “Were you planning to parade around the house in your birthday suit if I didn’t help?”

Colin didn’t speak, just watched me with serious eyes.

“Phoebe, where did you go?” he suddenly asked.

I rolled my eyes. “As if you wouldn’t know.” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I was beginning to wonder if he’d put a tracker on me or installed some kind of surveillance.

Colin cracked a smile, wrapping his arms around me. “Phoebe, a little kiss?”

“Stop pretending,” I accused, now thoroughly convinced he was faking it.

But he was just too tame around me.

“Phoebe, Coraline’s gone viral… Just as she wanted,” he murmured against the nape of my neck, his voice dropping.

A tingling sensation spread through me. “Yeah.”

Coraline wanted fame, right? Well, now she had it in spades.

I wondered what the Helms, that scumbag Oscar Helm in particular, was thinking now. He’d probably cut his losses and call off the engagement with Coraline soon, right?

I was halfway through my meal, nearly choking on laughter at the comments online bashing Coraline.

Colin patted my back with a resigned air. “Eat properly.”

I paused. Was he scolding me? When he got cold and commanding, he was a stranger, almost domineering. But his handsomeness never lasted more than three seconds.

“Phoebe,” he kissed the corner of my mouth. “So sweet.”

I was slightly annoyed; the man was always looking to steal a taste at home.

“The Larsons are in for a show. I wonder if they’ve found out about Coraline,” I mused, biting into a muffin. “I left her hanging from the rafters, locked in the storage room.”

Colin’s eyes gleamed with indulgence as he replied in a hushed tone, “Yeah, keep a few for your amusement.”

I didn’t understand what he meant. I lifted my gaze to him again, but he said no more.

“Sir.” Eric burst in before breakfast was done, anxiety etched on his face. “The Larsons are causing a scene at the Langley’s.”

Eric spoke softly, glancing my way to gauge my reaction.

Colin’s frown was detached as he placed a peeled egg on my plate. “Finish your breakfast first.” Eric stepped back, full of apologies.

I thought Eric was overreacting. Was Colin really that intimidating? His reverence seemed a bit overdone.

I wasn’t in a rush. Let the Larsons create their drama. As for the Langleys, apart from the old man fuming and bedridden, who else was there?

“Sir, there’s been an incident at the Langleys too,” Eric continued, hesitating. “Mr. Julian is suspected of involvement in a kidnapping and assault case and has been taken by the police, but…” He trailed off, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Sir, the weed roots in the backyard are too entangled. It’s hard to clear them out all at once.”