From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 20

Chapter 3

New York was hundreds of miles from this town, I knew Soren had come all this way just to humiliate me.

We hadn’t seen each other in five years.

The town was isolated. I rarely used my cell phone, often leaving it forgotten and uncharged in a drawer.

If Soren hadn’t come, I never would have known he was getting married. Not that I cared anymore.

He and his pack of rich friends came by a few more times, and once they ran into the man who was taking over my shop.

For some reason, Soren seemed instantly hostile, grabbing the man by the collar and dragging him out.

He leaned against the counter. “What’s wrong? Now that I’ve found you, you’re planning to skip town? Don’t even want the shop anymore?”

I ignored him, focusing on ironing the wrinkles out of the gowns.

He suddenly flew into a rage, tearing through the shop and throwing the finished couture gowns everywhere.

“Where is it? Where’s the gown?”

I bit my lip, fighting through the pain that wracked my body, and rushed forward to slap him hard across the face.

“Get out! Soren Wilson, get the hell out!”

His anger turned to laughter. He cupped his cheek, staring at me.

Isabelle, who had been waiting outside, burst in, horrified. For such a delicate girl, she packed a hell of a punch.

My body was already aching, and her slap sent me staggering to the ground. I scraped my hand, and beads of blood welled up on my palm.

“You! What gives you the right to hit him?”

Isabelle demanded angrily, her hand already caressing Soren’s cheek.

Ryan and Hannah followed her in, both a little surprised by the scene.

Ryan quipped, “Well, this is a rare sight. Haven’t seen you get hit in years. Used to happen all the time, though.”

Soren laughed too, as if savoring the memory of my slap. “You’re right,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It’s been years.”

But when his gaze fell on the blood on my palm, his smile froze.

13:50

From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer: Smile, Ex

13.8%

Chapter 3

Hannah reached out to pull me up, then gave an awkward cough and quickly let go.

Soren’s expression changed in an instant. He grabbed my shoulders. “Are you serious? One slap from her and you’re bleeding from your nose and mouth?”

His face darkened instantly. The look he shot Isabelle made her unconsciously flinch.

“I… I didn’t even hit her that hard.”

I wiped away the blood, pretending everything was fine as I sidestepped his touch and retreated behind the counter.

“Can you get out now?”

“I said, it’s not for sale.”

Isabelle shot me a heavy glare, her eyes now filled with pure hatred.

I didn’t know if it was the delayed shock from the slap or if my medication had finally stopped working, but after they left, I lay down and drifted in and out of consciousness.

Until the middle of the night, when I saw the flicker of flames and the acrid smoke began to fill my lungs.

As I came to, I realized the entire shop was on fire.

The ceiling beams groaned, threatening to collapse. The burnt–through door had already crashed to the floor.

I practically crawled my way out, frantically searching for the wedding gown, clutching it to my chest when I found it.

Tears mixed with the blood seeping from my nose and mouth. My throat was so scorched I couldn’t make a sound.

That’s when the instinct for survival overrode everything else.

I fumbled for my phone and, with a single, precious bar of battery, dialed the number I knew by heart.

After a long pause, someone answered. It was Isabelle.

“Who is this?”

“I… I’m looking for Soren.”

There was a moment of silence, then a giggle. “You must be Tessa, right? Soren’s in the shower. He can’t come to the phone.”

“Tell him… tell him it’s me…”

“So what if it’s you? Don’t flatter yourself. You wouldn’t sell, so I had someone burn your little shop down–along with any lingering feelings Soren might have had for you.”

The line went dead.

13:50

From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer: Smile, Ex

14.0%

Chapter 3

I struggled to get up, but my breathing was growing heavier, more constricted.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify