Sabrina was cold-blooded—there was no way she’d ever get mixed up with people like this. So then, who was it?
Could it really be Celine?
A cold, mocking smile curled at the corner of Hester’s lips. “You’re in love with Celine, aren’t you?”
At the mention of her name, the tattooed man’s composure cracked, emotion flickering across his face.
“You think you’re even worthy to say her name?”
Hearing that, Hester was certain—they were Celine’s people.
Well done, Celine. You really are ruthless.
Hatred burned in Hester’s eyes, so intense it was almost suffocating.
If her mother knew what Celine was doing to her, she’d take revenge without a second thought.
“You’re nothing but a lapdog to her,” Hester sneered. “Celine only has eyes for Marshall. But you? Take a good look at yourself—do you really think you stand a chance?” She made sure her words hit home, digging right into the tattooed man’s pride.
Push someone far enough, and they’ll do something desperate.
Maybe, just maybe, if she played this right, she could turn them against Marshall—her rival—and get them to do her dirty work.
The man’s jaw clenched at her words.
His name was Cliff.
Three years ago, Celine had saved his life. He’d been cornered in an alley, hunted down by a gang with nowhere left to run—until Celine pulled up in her car and flung the passenger door open, saving him from certain death.
He’d never forgotten that debt. Over time, gratitude had twisted into something deeper. He fell for her, hopelessly and completely. But Celine barely acknowledged him—she was the Sutton family’s heiress, and he knew he was beneath her. Still, he was content just to stay by her side, a silent guardian. Whenever she needed anything, he never hesitated.
When he heard Hester had nearly ruined Celine—nearly scarred her for life—rage boiled inside him. He wanted to tear Hester apart.
But Celine had given strict orders.
Don’t kill her. Not yet.
Fighting through the agony, she managed to speak. “I know a way to make Celine fall in love with you. I can help you be with her—forever.”
Cliff froze, caught off guard by hope. Celine—his weakness, his longing. Sure, there was a gulf between them, but love didn’t care about things like that. He’d always dreamed of closing the gap, of becoming someone she could love.
And now, Hester was saying she could help him.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Untie me first. I can barely breathe,” Hester pleaded, her voice trembling.
Cliff hesitated. Unbinding her went against protocol.
Sensing his uncertainty, Hester pressed on. “Look—there are six of you, and I’m barely standing. I’m not going anywhere. If I say I’ll help, I mean it.”
Cliff thought it over. She was right. Surrounded by his men, she couldn’t possibly escape.
All he could think about was Celine—how he might finally win her heart. For a moment, he forgot all about Celine’s orders and the threat Hester posed.

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