My son’s fiancée cut my hair in the garden and mocked me—unaware my billionaire son had just returned home early and seen everything.

sharp and venomous.

“She’s manipulating you. She wants me gone. She’s jealous.” Damian glanced at Evelyn, who flinched at Serena’s tone.

His expression hardened.

“You have five minutes before I call the police.”

Serena’s eyes flicked toward the gates, then back to him—calculating, cornered.

“Fine,” she spat.

“But when the press hears about this, don’t blame continue reading …