Return of the Broken Heiress

Darla pov“That’s not my baby.” His voice echoed through the room, sharp and cold, slicing through the warm, celebratory atmosphere we’d carefully set up. Everyone went still, and I felt my heart lurch, every beat heavy with disbelief. I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping I’d misheard.“What?” The word barely escaped my lips, a fragile whisper.He didn’t even flinch. “That is not my baby,” he repeated, louder, as if to make sure everyone—his family, all gathered here—would hear. The room seemed to close in on me, and what was supposed to be our happiest moment had turned into a public spectacle.“Do you think you can trap me with this?” His voice was laced with disdain.Trap him?I felt the words hit like stones, disbelief twisting in my stomach. This was Roy, my fiancé, the man I’d been with since college. We’d dreamed together, talked about the beach wedding I’d always wanted, set for three months from now. We had planned a future. He was my first love, the man I’d given everythin

I walked down the aisle slowly, my white dress flowing around me like it was made for this moment. It wasn’t a wedding dress, not exactly, but it was close enough to make a statement. I could feel Roy’s glare on me, burning into my skin, but I didn’t care. My heart raced, a voice in the back of my head whispering that this was a terrible idea. But I had lost too much to let him smile over my pain, over the ruin he caused me. As I got closer, I noticed Ethan standing behind Roy, his face unreadable, watching me silently. with a mix of disapproval and disbelief. Then there was Mrs. Claus. Her glare could’ve set me on fire. Her perfectly styled hair and pearl necklace did nothing to soften the fury etched into her face. She looked like she wanted to break me into pieces and toss me out the nearest window. But I didn’t care. I met her gaze head-on, daring her to say something, daring her to stop me. I knew the scene I was about to cause would ripple through this room and beyond. And I

DarlaIt’s been four years.Four years since I left this place, since I walked away from everything. Four years since I boarded that plane, carrying nothing but heartbreak, regret, and the weight of a past I couldn’t face.Now, I’m back.The moment I step out of the plane, the cold air wraps around me like an old friend. Almost comforting. The sharp breeze stings against my skin, but I welcome it. I breathe it in, deep and slow, letting the chill seep into my bones.I never thought I’d come back. Not after everything. Not after the way I left.But I had to.There are things I left behind—unfinished business, ghosts that refuse to rest. And I am more than capable of dealing with them now.People always say revenge is dangerous. That it’s a poison, a fire that consumes everything in its path, including the one who wields it. They warn you about how demanding it is, how it strips away your soul piece by piece.But what they don’t tell you—what no one ever admits—is how thrilling it is.H

EthanThe night sky is unusually bright tonight, stars scattered across the vast darkness like tiny beacons, but I find no comfort in them. My study is quiet, save for the low hum of my computer screen glaring at me, the cursor blinking on a blank document I haven’t touched in hours.I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. My thoughts are a puzzle, tangled in things I should have let go of long ago. But no matter how much time passes, no matter how much I try to push it all away, it lingers. That feeling. That loss. That regret.With a sigh, I push back from my desk and walk toward the couch in the center of the room. I sink into it, resting my head on the top while propping my feet up on the coffee table. Maybe if I close my eyes, I can finally shut it all out.But then my phone buzzes.I don’t reach for it immediately. I let it vibrate against the couch cushion, the noise breaking the silence of the room. Eventually, I glance over, and the screen lights up with a name I haven’t

DarlaThe shrill ringing of my alarm clock crashes into my skull like a hammer against glass. A groan escapes my lips as I blindly reach for my phone on the dresser, my fingers fumbling until they close around it. The moment my eyes focus on the screen, my heart nearly stops.9:12 AM.I bolt upright, the sudden movement sending a violent pulse of pain through my skull. Shit. Shit. Shit. My meeting is at 10 AM. How could I have let this happen? I was supposed to wake up early, prepare myself, go over my notes one last time—but instead, I drowned myself in alcohol like an idiot, fully aware of what was waiting for me in the morning.A wave of nausea washes over me, my head spinning so intensely it feels like the room is tilting. I squeeze my temples as if that will somehow hold my brain together. This is what you get, Darla. This is what you get for drinking yourself into oblivion.Gritting my teeth, I force myself to stand. The floor feels uneven beneath me, but I push forward, stumbli