The Gift from My Brothers for My Birthday Was My Mother’s Broken Bangle Chapter 10

The Gift from My Brothers for My Birthday Was My Mother’s Broken Bangle Chapter 10

Six months later, I stood beneath the lights of an awards stage at Paris Fashion Week, dressed in couture of my own design.

Camera flashes exploded across the room as I smiled with complete confidence.

Nothing about me resembled the fragile Rivington heiress my brothers had once handled like glass, always waiting for the next sensory overload to break me.

After the ceremony, Blaise found me backstage and handed me a glass of warm water.

It was still exactly 98.6 degrees.

“Congratulations to our lead designer.”

His eyes held a quiet smile.

I accepted the glass and took a sip.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past six months, Mr. Harcourt.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

“Everything I’ve done?”

He stepped closer without warning, trapping me against the edge of the dressing table.

“I’ve done you a very expensive favor, Romilly Rivington.”

His gaze dropped to my lips.

“How exactly do you plan to repay me?”

I looked up at the face inches from mine and smiled.

“What do you want, Mr. Harcourt?”

Blaise lowered his head, his breath warm against my ear.

“You.”

I did not move away.

Instead, I slipped my arms around his neck.

“Deal.”

After we returned to Wexley, I happened to see a report about the Rivingtons on the news.

With its financing gone and Harcourt Capital continuing to tighten the pressure, Rivington Group had finally filed for bankruptcy.

Dashiell liquidated everything he owned to cover the losses, including Rivington House, where we had grown up.

Buried under debt, he now worked an entry-level sales job at a small regional firm, flattering clients for a few hundred dollars in commission.

Ames could not handle the fall from wealth.

He developed a gambling addiction, lost what little he had left, and had one leg shattered over an unpaid debt. He ended up drifting between shelters and begging on the streets.

Tiernan lost his medical license after a catastrophic surgical error.

Now he wandered through Wexley in a daze, telling anyone who would listen that he needed to buy his little sister the most beautiful dress in the world.

As for Della Pike, she tried to escape from a state correctional facility.

She suffered a severe spinal injury when officers restrained her and was left permanently paralyzed.

She would spend the rest of her life confined to a prison medical bed, dependent on someone else even to turn her over.

She had spent years weaponizing helplessness to win sympathy.

In the end, helplessness became the only thing she had left.

They had all become the architects of their own ruin.

I turned off the television and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Wexley glittered beneath the night sky.

Blaise came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin against my shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?”

I leaned back against him, watching the city lights.

“My future.”

A smile touched my lips.

“It looks bright.”