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Matilda felt like her depression was sinking its claws deeper into her, and Yvan’s reappearance was knocking her for six.

Prostrate on the couch with a throbbing headache, her work wasn’t making any headway, and her son was not with her. She felt like a total failure, now laid up with a fever, clueless about what to do next.

Then, out of the blue, her phone rang.

She glanced at the display: an unknown number. With a sigh of indifference, she answered. But the voice on the other end was familiar.

It was Willow.

In a voice that was cool and to the point, Willow said, “Head over to Fusion. I’ve got a business proposal for you.”

Matilda was puzzled. What game was this heiress playing now?

have been coddled by her family for so long, especially considering her Simpson family’s own scandal she vaguely remembered

fiasco had been smoothed over, and soon after, the news of Matilda’s incarceration eclipsed the Simpson family’s troubles. Five years in jail, with

as a rival, and truth be told, you’re still competing for my affections. But, frankly,

minutes, she got up, showered, applied makeup, picked out a sharp outfit, spritzed some perfume, and, instead of driving,

in the chilly air, Matilda approached.”

by a leather skirt, feet clad in black boots. A blowout and curling iron had teased her hair into loose waves, tossed to one side to reveal the

just her looks that made people stop and stare; it was her cool, detached

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Chapter 63

as if she could pass through a garden without disturbing a single petal, her presence like a fleeting silhouette, ready to

allure, like someone on the brink of death yet radiating a final, stunning burst of life. Her eyes

had reduced

approached, Willow noted her nasal voice and

Matilda said nothing.

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