De Pro-Techie
Well-rounded Techie
Jilted heiress: marrying the untouchable tycoon Novel Synopsis
Allison Montgomery sat in the driver’s seat of her Audi, the engine idling quietly in the JFK Airport parking lot.She had been waiting for over two hours. Even though a long time had passed since her fiancé Finn Kensington’s scheduled flight had landed,
he still had not appeared, and he hadn’t sent a single message.
A gnawing unease twisted in her chest.
Suddenly, her phone screen, resting in the cup holder, lit up. An in-cabin audio detection alert flashed across the display.
It was the synced dashcam app connected to her Range Rover, the one she had left parked in the VIP section of her favorite restaurant in Manhattan.
Allison frowned. Her fingers hovered over the screen. A garage break-in? The VIP lot was supposed to be secure, but Manhattan was unpredictable.
Her heart rate elevated slightly, a dull thud against her ribs, as she tapped the notification.
The live video feed buffered for a second, then the screen resolved into the dark, leather-lined interior of her Range Rover.
She squinted. Streetlights outside cast harsh yellow shadows across the dashboard. A familiar designer handbag sat carelessly tossed over the air vents.
She stared at the bag. Her stomach dropped. It was a limited-edition Birkin, emerald leather. She had bought that exact bag for her younger cousin, Cheyanne Montgomery, just last month.
Before her brain could process why Cheyanne’s bag was in her car, the audio kicked in.
The unmistakable sound of heavy, wet breathing filled the quiet cabin of the Audi. Fabric rustled violently.
Then a sharp, breathless moan.
Allison froze. The blood drained from her face so fast she felt lightheaded. Her fingers gripped the leather steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned bone-white.
The camera angle caught the dim, chaotic reflection in the rearview mirror. Streetlights illuminated a face.
Finn Kensington. Her fiancé. The man who had looked her in the eyes that morning and said, “I love you, Allie. See you tonight.”
His face was twisted in raw, unrestrained passion, an expression she had never seen on him. His shirt was unbuttoned, his belt undone.
Then Cheyanne’s face came into view, her cousin’s hands tangled in Finn’s perfectly styled hair.
Cheyanne leaned up, her lips brushing Finn’s jaw, her mouth open, breathless. “Tell me I’m better than her,” she whispered, loud and clear on the microphone. “Tell me I’m better than Allison.”
Finn gasped, his voice cracking. “You are. God, you are. She’s never— she’s so cold compared to you. You’re everything she isn’t.”
Cheyanne laughed, a low, triumphant sound. “Then why are you still engaged to her?”
“Because of the families,” Finn said, his hands gripping her hips. “But it’s you I want. It’s always been you.”
A wave of intense nausea hit Allison. The acid in her stomach surged up her throat.
She had given this man three years of her life. She had turned down job offers in Europe for him. She had defended him to her friends, to her family, to everyone who said he was too slick, too ambitious.
And this was how he repaid her. In her car. With her cousin.
The initial shock lasted exactly ten seconds. Then the cold, burning rage took over. It spread through her veins like ice water, freezing her tears before they could even form.
Allison hit the record button on the app. A red dot blinked on the screen, ensuring the footage was saved directly to her secure cloud storage. She would not lose this evidence.
She did not cry. She did not scream. She pulled up her contacts list and found the number for the restaurant’s head of security. She pressed call.
“This is Allison Montgomery,” she said, her voice flat, metallic, unrecognizable even to herself. “My Range Rover is in your VIP lot. I need you to tow it immediately.”
“Ms. Montgomery?” The security chief’s voice was laced with confusion. “Is there a problem with the vehicle?”
“There is a severe biohazard inside,” Allison instructed calmly, her gaze fixed on the empty tarmac. “Have it towed directly to a scrapyard and crushed. I don’t want a single piece of it back. I’ll wire a triple bonus to your personal account for your absolute discretion.”
She hung up before he could respond. Her hands shook slightly, adrenaline flooding her system, demanding physical action.
She reached down and turned off the Audi’s engine. She needed to walk. If she sat in this car for one more minute, she was going to tear the steering wheel off the dashboard.
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