Chapter 1

I hung up, still shaking.

My daughter’s cold  skin burned into my memory. Sixteen stories.

Then, boom, I’m back in the bridal suite.  The party hasn’t even started yet.

I pull myself  together, grab my dress, and get out of that  room.  As soon as I’m out, I hear them.

“Scott, it’s your engagement party. This isn’t  right. Miranda’s right next door.”

Scott’s voice is all rough, post–sex.

“It’s fine. She’s desperate to marry me. She’s  probably sitting pretty waiting. She can’t hear  us.”

“And if it wasn’t for her grandad wanting this  business merger, I would never even look at  her. You see her? Always acting high and  mighty. It gets on my nerves.”

I clench my fists. I want to tear him apart.  He’s right.

We’re getting married because our  grandads wanted it, it was a business deal.  I wasn’t in love with him.

And last time, I just  waited in the bridal suite for the party. I didn’t  see this.  Miranda’s voice is soft and sweet.

“Scott, don’t talk like that. Her mom died  young, and her dad is always out. No one  taught her how to act…”

That’s it. I kick the door open. “I’m still hurting about my daughter. And they  dare talk about my mom?”

They jump up on the couch, fixing their  clothes.  Miranda looks angry as soon as she sees me.

“Chelsea, what the hell! What are you doing  here?”

I slap her across the face. “It’s my wedding. What are you doing? Getting it on with my fiancé on the couch?”

Miranda tries to hit me back, but I grab her  wrist. I use my other hand to grab her hair.

Because of her, my daughter died to give Miranda’s daughter bone marrow on that operating table.

But before I can get in a second hit, Scott  kicks me, hard.

“Chelsea, what the hell is wrong with you?!  You can’t hit her! Do you know who she is?”

I crash back on the coffee table. I feel the  pain shoot through my body, and I can’t stand  up.

The door swings open, and security guards flood in.  Before I can say anything, Scott yells.

“Miranda is a Jones! You know the Jones family? Those are billionaires!”

I look at Scott through the pain. He’s holding  Miranda, looking at her red cheek with  concern.

I smirk.

“She’s a Jones? When did my dad have another kid? Scott, wanna guess why my last name is  Jones?”