HEIRESS REBORN

Alina's Pov

The woman in the sleek black suit sat on the chair next to my hospital bed like she owned the room, like this wasn't a room where my life had just crumbled. Theo stood beside her, older, grayer, but still the same kind-eyed man I remembered from childhood. Our family butler... until he vanished after my parents' funeral.

"What?" My voice was hoarse, rasping. Like it had fought a war to form the words.

“We know this is sudden,” Margot said, her voice even and practiced, like a surgeon about to slice. “But there are things you need to know. Now that… everything’s changed.”

My throat was still sore, the bruises from the accident—or attack, or whatever-the-hell it was—tight and raw around my neck. My body was an aching mass of bandages and gauze. I didn’t feel like myself. I didn’t even feel human.

But I needed answers more than I needed pain meds.

“What things?” I rasped, the words dry and gritty like sandpaper against my tongue.

“The truth,” Theo replied simply. His voice was deep. Steady. Measured in a way that made me feel like I was about to be handed a diagnosis, not a conversation. “About your inheritance. About your father’s will. And about the surveillance.”

That last word hit me like a punch to the ribs.

“Surveillance?” I repeated slowly, blinking at them. “You were… watching me?”

“Yes,” Margot said with a nod, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “Discreetly. Since your father passed away. We followed instructions—strict ones.”

“Instructions?”

She didn’t flinch. “From your father. It was part of the will. A secret clause.”

My brain stalled for a second.

“I’m sorry,” I said slowly, sitting up straighter against the pillows. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“There was a clause,” Margot repeated. “One that your father added quietly, without your knowledge. It stated that if you chose to marry Nathaniel, you would only be eligible to claim your inheritance if you eventually divorced him.”

I stared at her.

Then laughed—short, humorless, disbelieving.

“You’re telling me my dad... blackmailed me through legalese?”

“He wanted to protect you,” Theo interjected, more gently than I expected. “He saw something in Nathaniel. Something dangerous.”

I scoffed. “They hated Nate from the beginning. Both of them. My mom and dad—they acted like he was some poor street rat trying to con his way into our family tree. I thought they were just being pretentious.”

“They weren’t wrong,” Margot said, her voice softening slightly. “Your father had reason to believe Nathaniel was after more than just your heart. He hired an investigator. Found inconsistencies in his business dealings. Connections to some... unsavory people.”

I blinked. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because you were in love,” she said gently. “And because your father didn’t want to risk pushing you further into Nathaniel’s arms. He thought if he made the inheritance conditional, you’d leave eventually. On your own.”

I let that sink in. It felt like a betrayal stacked on top of a betrayal.

“You spied on me,” I said again, like saying it out loud would make it sound less insane. “For years.”

“We watched over you,” Theo corrected, almost defensively. “Not… interfered. Not once. That was part of the clause. No contact. No interference. Not until you divorced him.”

“And what if I never did?” I snapped. “What if I stayed married to him forever? Died married to him?”

Silence.

Margot looked down.

“Then you wouldn’t have inherited anything,” she said. “And you never would’ve known.”

I stared at the wall for a long beat, swallowing past the nausea building in my throat.

“And while you were ‘watching,’” I murmured, “you just… let him try to kill me?”

“No,” Theo said, stepping forward. “We didn’t know he’d go that far. We didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think?” My voice rose. “What if Dr. Damien hadn’t found me? What if I died in that goddamn alley while you followed your precious little rules? What then?”

Margot looked me straight in the eye. “Then we would have failed you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.

“There’s more,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Now that you’re divorced… you’re eligible to claim your inheritance.”

I stared at her. “So I’m rich now?”

Her expression didn’t change. “Filthy rich. Your father left you control of the Vance estate. Valued at over six billion dollars.”

Six.

Billion.

My mouth went dry.

So that was it.

That’s what Nate was after. Not me. Not love. Not a future.

Just the money.

My blood chilled.

“He knew,” I said under my breath.

Margot nodded slowly. “I believe he did. Which is why he acted when he did.”

I could hardly breathe.

“Where is he?” I asked suddenly. “Where’s Nate? What’s he saying?”

Margot and Theo exchanged a quiet, tense glance.

“It might be better if you don’t—”

“No,” I cut in. “Don’t even try that. Tell me. Show me.”

After a pause, Margot reached into her tote bag. She pulled out an iPad and tapped a few things, then passed it to me.

The screen lit up with horror.

Headlines. Pictures. Videos. All featuring one man: Nathaniel St. James.

Alina Vance dead after tragic accident.

Nathaniel grieves in public: “She was my everything.”

Sources say Alina stormed out after argument over infidelity…

And then this one—Mental health crisis? Heiress allegedly suffered delusions before death.

He even had the audacity to call me unwell.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

I was staring at the man who tried to kill me—playing the part of a devastated ex-husband to the world. Holding his breath like a widower, not a would-be murderer.

“She was unstable,” he’d said in an interview. “But I loved her. I did everything I could.”

He looked like a fucking saint.

I didn’t know I’d thrown the iPad until it shattered against the far wall. A scream ripped from my throat, raw and animalistic.

“He left me,” I howled. “He tried to kill me, and now he’s pretending to grieve?!”

My monitor went berserk. Beeps screaming in protest as my heart rate spiked.

Damien immediately burst in with two nurses on his heels as he tried to calm me down.

I thrashed. I couldn’t stop. The scream came again, louder this time, until it tore my throat in half.

“I’ll kill him,” I sobbed. “I swear to God—I’ll fucking kill him!”

Nurses rushed to subdue me. I fought them with the last scraps of strength I had. It wasn’t enough. Finally, I felt a sharp prick at my arm, the cool rush of sedation... and then black.

---

When I woke again, it was quiet.

Peaceful.

The sunlight filtered in through blinds, soft and golden. The air smelled like antiseptic and fading anger.

Damien was the only one in the room and he sat near the window, tablet in hand, but he looked up the second I stirred.

“You’re awake,” he said gently.

I nodded, swallowing the dryness in my throat. “Did I… freak out?”

“A little,” he smiled faintly. “But it was deserved.”

I winced. “Sorry. I just… I lost it.”

“You’ve held in too much for too long,” he said simply. “It was bound to happen.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then I asked, “What do you think about revenge?”

Damien tilted his head, studying me like he wasn’t surprised.

“I think revenge only works if you’re stronger than your pain,” he said. “If you’re clear-headed. Cold. Focused. Otherwise, it’ll eat you alive from the inside out.”

I nodded slowly, his words sinking into me like water soaking a parched sponge.

“So it has to be strategic,” I murmured.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes was answer enough.

After a long pause, I looked up again.

“The facial reconstruction surgery,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

He held my gaze, serious now. “Are you sure?”

I nodded once. Firm. Clear.

“Yes. I want to disappear... and come back stronger.”