The Returned Heiress Who Never Fit In

Chapter 747

Chapter 747 A Thread Unraveled

+8 Pearls

The word “fake death” still hung like poison in the air. Marie had dragged it out again, and Dan’s face went dark.

“Forget that,” she snapped. “Hand Tessa over and we’re done. Whether you go die again or not, that’s your business.”

Dan’s chest heaved. She wouldn’t let up, wouldn’t shift off Tessa. He clenched his jaw.

“Tell Derrick to stop.”

“Tessa gets back to me, then he stops.”

Her answer cut like iron. Dan slammed the call dead, fingers stiff around the phone. Talking to Marie was like pounding his head against stone. She didn’t bend–oil, salt, nothing sank in.

The door opened. Conan stepped inside. “Sir.”

“Say it,” Dan bit out, voice raw with temper.

“Derrick and Victor’s raids are spreading fast,” Conan reported. “And… Black Mountain requests you come at once.”

Black Mountain. Dale. The title his people used to avoid saying father. Everyone knew Dale kept his legacy for Manny, never for Dan.

Fresh from that maddening call with Derrick, Dan’s patience snapped. “Not going.”

Conan bowed slightly. “Shall I return with that answer?”

Dan’s breath caught. He waved. “Wait. Ready the car.”

He had never been desperate to find Tessa–let Marie choke on her own hunt. But she hounded him like a rabid dog, biting, blaming. Now she left him no choice but to scour for the girl too.

The thought alone made his lungs ache with fury.

from Marie. She slammed

is it?” she

over Tessa meant only one thing:

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747 A Thread

all the

studied her in silence, the corners of his

47

+8 Pearls

scrubbed her temple. “I’ve never seen a harder nut to crack. We’ve torn

we can’t find ‘Tessa soon, Stella’s heart will break. She comforted

brow rose. “She

worry when she’s the one really worried sick. Can you imagine? Still thinking of

caught

she’d been nearly incoherent–was now soothing

“Don’t give me that face. My sister’s not some spoiled brat like Kelly. She’s

nothing. But in his mind, a reel of faces flashed–Victor’s steady glare, Stella’s tears, Marie’s fury. Each reaction had rung true. Yet Marie’s careless words–she even comforted me-echoed too loud, too

replaying every detail, until suspicion

raids, more fire, until her voice landed on one

fought for the same man, and Diana even left with a child–and stolen treasure. If anyone

didn’t

Send Gifts

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747 A Thread

all the wounds they’d

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