Sorry Mr Billionaire, Your Wife Is an Heiress

Elara’s PovThe world did not stop spinning when the doctor told me I was dying, but it should have."Six months, Mrs. Rooke," the doctor said again, her voice sounding like it was coming from the bottom of a deep, dark well. "Your body is giving out. The illness is too far gone. I am so, so sorry."I sat frozen in that hard plastic chair, holding onto my purse like it was a floating piece of wood in the middle of a stormy ocean. Six months. That was it. That was all the time I had left in a life where I had spent eight long years waiting for a husband to look at me and a daughter to love me. All those mornings I spent cooking meals no one appreciated, all those nights I spent crying silently in the dark while Darian worked late, all those times I swallowed my pride to keep the peace—it had all added up to nothing.When I finally walked out of the hospital, the city lights looked blurred through my tears. I didn't want to go back to the cold, empty halls of the Rooke mansion. I wante

Elara’s PovI stood in the middle of our massive walk-in closet, surrounded by expensive designer dresses, diamond necklaces, and rows of brand-new shoes that Darian had bought me over the years. They all sparkled brilliantly under the bright lights, but looking at them now made me feel sick to my stomach. They were just shiny handcuffs. They were gifts bought to quiet a guilty conscience, golden decorations meant to keep a quiet, obedient pet inside a cage. I didn't want any of it anymore. I left the jewelry on the velvet tray, left the expensive dresses hanging on their racks, and picked up a simple, worn leather suitcase I had owned long before I ever met a Rooke.I packed only the bare essentials: two simple sweaters, a pair of comfortable jeans, and a small photo album containing pictures of Lyra when she was a sweet, laughing baby before Octavia filled her head with poison.My heart felt heavy and hollow, like a dry shell. For eight long years, I had believed that if I just tr

Elara’s Pov The hospital room was so quiet that I could hear the loud, steady beating of my own heart. I stared down at the old, faded photograph resting on the white blanket, my fingers trembling as if the paper might burn me. The little girl in the picture looked back at me with dark, wide eyes, wearing a tiny pink dress and clutching a silver bird pendant that looked exact—pixel for pixel, scratch for scratch—like the one hanging around my own neck. My chest felt tight, like a heavy stone was sitting right on top of my ribs. "This doesn't mean anything," I whispered, my voice sounding small and fragile in the bright, sterile room. I looked up at Kael, fighting hard against the sudden, terrifying hope that was trying to claw its way out of my chest. "People can buy the same necklace. People can have similar pendants. The nuns at the orphanage told me... they told me my parents left me on the front steps wrapped in a dirty blanket with only this chain. They said nobody wanted me.

Elara’s Pov The hospital room door swung open slowly, and the sound made my breath hitch in my throat. For eight long years, whenever a door opened in the Rooke mansion, my body would instantly tense up. I always expected Octavia to walk in, wearing her expensive furs and her cold, judgmental expression, ready to point out everything I was doing wrong. My chest tightened out of pure habit, my hands gripping the white hospital sheets so hard my knuckles turned pale and achy. I expected the Veyne matriarch to enter my room like a queen ruling over a kingdom, carrying an air of authority that made everyone else feel small. But when the door finally clicked open, and the woman stepped inside, she looked nothing like the cold, demanding mother-in-law I had spent my entire marriage trying to please. Her name was Seraphina Veyne. She wore an elegant, dark wool coat and a few simple pieces of expensive jewelry that showed she was a woman accustomed to commanding a powerful family. But no

Elara’s Pov Seraphina let out a loud, broken sob, her hands flying up to cover her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. Ronan immediately stepped forward and pulled her into a tight, protective embrace, resting his chin on top of her head while his own eyes shone bright with unshed tears. Over by the window, Kael stood completely still. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might break, and his broad shoulders shook slightly as he struggled to contain the emotions he had spent twenty-four years burying beneath his cold security duties. Silas stepped closer to the bed, holding out the paperwork gently. He explained the results in a calm, patient voice, making sure I understood every single detail. He told me that the DNA match was one hundred percent certain, connecting our bloodlines beyond any shadow of a doubt. I stared down at the printed report, my finger slowly tracing the ink lines. I wanted to feel like a daughter. I wanted to feel like a sister. But staring at