A False Heiress's Guide to Love and Power

“Dad…” Cole had so many things he wanted to say, but when the moment came, not a single word seemed right.

He clutched his father’s cold, lifeless hand, sinking to his knees at Parrish’s bedside.

“Dad, please… I’m begging you, just don’t take Mom with you too… Please…” The words dissolved into sobs as Cole broke down completely, his cries echoing through the silent room. “Dad… Dad…”

Alessia wiped at her eyes, but the tears just kept coming, falling faster than she could catch them. Her heart twisted and ached, but she knew she couldn’t let herself fall apart–not now.

She put a comforting hand on Cole’s shoulder and let him grieve, let him cry until he had nothing left.

It didn’t make sense. Just that morning, they’d been talking about vacation plans, arguing over what style to decorate the new house. How could everything change so quickly? How could their worlds be torn apart so suddenly?

Fragments of memory flashed through Alessia’s mind, shifting rapidly from one to the next–sometimes just a sentence, sometimes a whole scene, always a blur. But in every memory, they were all smiling.

“This one’s your room, sweetheart. Do you like it? I made that swing myself–my hands are a little rusty, but I heard little girls love these these days.”

got first place again? Not bad! Mr. Whitley’s making a feast

about me? I

sister’s coattails

yourself.” She remembered being seven, curled

each other, fragments of laughter and love. Alessia couldn’t hold it together any longer. She bolted for the bathroom, hand clamped over her mouth, dry heaving and sobbing

of her

1/2

12:35

appearances. If it were possible, she would have given anything–money, every last possession, even her own life–just to bring them back. She

tasted the agony of loss

clung to life but slipped

no time for grief–no room for

forced