Librairie
Rechercher
Accueil / Romance / Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon / 16. The Spoilt Heiress

Share

16. The Spoilt Heiress

Auteur: La Mariachi
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-12-26 04:23:49

MARISSA

The moment I walked into the boutique, I noticed them.

Tina was standing beside Arya Rothschild. The heir of the founding fashion family.

Of course she was. Leaning towards important personalities as a way to get back at me has become a hobby.

I pretended not to see them and continued walking as if they did not exist. The boutique was already buzzing, and it did not take long before attention shifted.

Two ladies shopping nearby suddenly froze when they spotted me.

“Oh my God,” one of them gasped, rushing over. “Queen, hey. This is really you.”

Another followed excitedly. “Can we take pictures with you, Queen?”

I smiled calmly. “Of course.”

They stood beside me, phones raised, giggling as pictures were taken. I posed naturally, my expression serene. But from the corner of my eye, I could feel it.

Tina and Arya were staring. As if they were plotting.

Their gazes burned into my back.

When the ladies finally thanked me and walked away, I let my smile fade just slightly.

Tina, i
Continuez à lire ce livre gratuitement
Scanner le code pour télécharger l'application
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Chapitre verrouillé

Latest chapter

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   49. Back To Our Sick Games

    MARISSA"THE PREGNANCY PLOT: HOW MARISSA WALTERS TRAPPED THE VANCE HEIR."The headline on The Daily Insider felt like a physical blow to my stomach. I scrolled with trembling fingers, my vision blurring as I read the words that felt like they had been ripped from my private nightmares.The article was a masterpiece of cruelty. It claimed that ten years ago, I had fabricated my pregnancy to force Tristan into a marriage he didn't want. It alleged that when the "lie" was about to be discovered, I had faked a miscarriage and fled the country with a settlement, only to return now to "finish the job" and seize the company.The most damning part was the "anonymous source"—someone who knew the exact date of my hospital stay, the exact room number, and the fact that Tristan had been absent. The narrative was clear: I was a manipulative monster who had used a ghost to chain a man, and Tristan was the victim who had finally seen the light.I looked up. Tristan was walking back toward the beach,

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   Chapter 48. The Attraction Between Us

    MARISSAThe Malibu sun was a relentless, shimmering weight, turning the white sand of the Vance estate into a stage of blinding light. After the emotional wreckage of the bonfire, I expected a cold morning of avoided glances. Instead, I found a version of Tristan I hadn't seen in years: the architect of comfort, the man who knew every curve of my needs before I even voiced them.By midday, the heat was stifling. I was reclined on a low linen lounger beneath the shadow of a silk canopy, the rhythmic crash of the Pacific lulling me into a dangerous state of relaxation. I felt a presence beside me, the scent of expensive cedarwood and salt air announcing him before he spoke."You're going to burn, Marissa. Your skin was always too stubborn for this much sun."I opened my eyes to find Tristan kneeling in the sand beside my lounger. He held a bottle of high-end sunscreen, his expression uncharacteristically soft. Without waiting for an invitation, he poured a pool of the cool lotion int

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   Chapter 47. Crazy Bonfire Secrets

    MARISSAThe silence I left Dante with in the kitchen had turned into a frigid wall by the time the sun hit the Pacific the next evening. We didn't speak of the fight. We didn't speak of the kiss. We existed in a state of armed neutrality, performing our roles for the staff while the air between us crackled with unspoken ultimatums.As dusk fell, the "Creative Retreat" shifted to the beach. A massive bonfire had been built in a pit dug deep into the white sand, the orange flames licking at the purple twilight. It was supposed to be a night of "bonding"—a chance for the team to relax before the final push for the Silver Silk Collection.Waiters moved through the sand with trays of chilled champagne and skewers of grilled lobster. It looked like a paradise, but to me, it felt like a trial.Tristan was already there, seated on a driftwood log with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked battered. His jaw was a deep, mottled purple where Dante had struck him, and his eyes were hollo

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   46. Choose One

    MARISSAThe silence following the light flicking on didn't last. It was the heavy, breathless pause before a bomb detonates.I scrambled off the counter, my fingers trembling as I yanked the straps of my silk gown back into place. Tristan stood his ground, his chest heaving, his eyes still dark with the remnants of the fire that had just nearly consumed us.Dante didn't wait for an explanation. He moved with the terrifying speed of a man who had spent his life taking what he wanted by force. He crossed the kitchen in three strides, and before Tristan could even raise his hands, Dante’s fist connected with Tristan’s jaw.The sound of the impact—flesh hitting bone—echoed sickeningly against the marble. Tristan’s head snapped back, and he stumbled against the island, his glass of scotch shattering on the floor."Tristan!" Tina shrieked, rushing forward to grab Dante’s arm, but he shook her off like a bothersome insect."You bastard!" Tristan roared, wiping blood from his split lip. He lu

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   45. Burst Of Passion and Sin

    MARISSABy midnight, I felt as though the glass walls of the North Suite were closing in on me. Dante lay on the far side of the king-sized bed, his breathing deep and rhythmic, but my own skin felt like it was on fire.I slipped out, my bare feet silent on the cold marble floors as I navigated the dark toward the kitchen. I needed water to wash away the lingering taste of the morning's fear, but mostly, I needed to escape the suffocating weight of being watched.The kitchen was a cavern of silver and shadows, illuminated only by the ghostly glow of the moon. I reached for the refrigerator door, but a low rasp from the darkness made me freeze."You always did seek out the cold when your mind was racing."Tristan was sitting at the island, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He wasn't the polished CEO now. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his hair Mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it for hours. He looked raw. He looked like the man I had married before

  • Dear Ex, You Missed a Fashion Icon   44. Accident At Breakfast

    MARISSAThe next day, during breakfast, another wave of tension brewed on the terrace of the Vance estate.There was a symphony of clinking silver and the rhythmic roar of the Pacific. The air was crisp, smelling of pine and sea salt, but the atmosphere around the long mahogany table was suffocating. I sat at the head of the table, flanked by Dante, while Tristan sat directly opposite me with Tina anchored to his side like a gilded weight.I felt Tristan’s eyes on me. I didn't look up from my coffee, but I could feel the heat of his gaze. He was watching the way Dante leaned toward me, the way Dante’s hand hovered near mine. It was a silent, agonizing pressure. Across from me, Tina was making a show of buttering Tristan’s toast, her movements exaggerated and performative."You haven't eaten a thing, Marissa," Dante murmured, his voice a low velvet. He was playing the part of the doting lover to perfection—perhaps too well. He reached for a small, elegant ceramic bowl in the center o

Plus de chapitres

Vous vous intéresseriez aussi à

Découvrez et lisez de bons romans gratuitement
Accédez gratuitement à un grand nombre de bons romans sur GoodNovel. Téléchargez les livres que vous aimez et lisez où et quand vous voulez.
Lisez des livres gratuitement sur l'APP
Scanner le code pour lire sur l'application
DMCA.com Protection Status