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The misplaced Heiress
Rule one in a world ruled by the wealthy: never enter someone’s life without knowing who truly holds the power. Rule two: if the truth is out of reach, do not make a mistake you cannot undo. In their world, appearances are currency, and poverty is often just a well-tailored disguise. Gabriell had just broken rule two. “First time at an Aarhil banquet?” Miaelle turned to find a woman in her fifties smiling at her, her name tag read C. Harlow – Board Liaison. “You seem a bit nervous is all.” “Yes,” Miaelle said, offering a polite smile. “You’ll remember this one,” the woman assured, “They’re about to announce the new Executive Director. Rumour is, it’s going to be Gabriell Keller.” She lowered her voice. “Young, ruthless, brilliant. The board loves him.” Miaelle’s lips curved a little bit. “I’ve heard he’s… impressive.” “Impressive?” The woman laughed softly. “He’s a weapon. And from what I hear, he’s been seeing someone. No one knows who though.” She tilted her head, studying Miaelle. “You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?” “I’m sure it’s just gossip.” “Probably.” The woman sipped her drink, unconvinced. “Still, whoever she is, she’s either very lucky to be with someone that brilliant or very naive. In this world, men like him don’t often fall in love. They make deals.” “Maybe he’s different.” She shrugged. “Maybe. But if I were her, I’d watch my step around men who climb this fast. They tend to step on people without noticing and some do it intentionally.” She gave Miaelle’s arm a light pat and drifted back into the crowd. Miaelle stood at the edge of the glass-walled banquet hall, her obsidian dress pooled around her like liquid silk, its fabric hugging her figure before spilling gracefully to the floor. Tonight was special. Just a week ago, Gabriell Keller had finally proposed to her after four years, despite not having made a frivolous gesture while doing so, he had promised to make up for it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything special at the moment, you know how busy I’ve been with work. But once I get that promotion, I’ll make sure the whole world knows. I’ll announce our engagement publicly at their banquet party. I only need to get it.” He had cooed intimately. Like the loving girlfriend she was, she’d agreed. Unwilling to trouble him whilst in his pursuit of greatness. And now, he had it. Or at least… he was close enough. The promotion at the Aarhil Group was the opportunity of a lifetime. Executive Director at twenty-nine, wealth, influence, reputation, security. And the ability to gloat. Gabriell had chased it obsessively for years, doing all he possibly could to attain it, sacrificing sleep, relationships, and nearly his sanity. Everything had started falling into place three years ago until the final requirement had been a recommendation letter from someone recognized as powerful enough by the company. Four days after proposing to Miaelle, he received the email confirming his acceptance. Just in time too, as the banquet had been right around the corner. A wide smile spread across her plump strawberry-colored lips, eyes gleaming with exhilaration as she pointed her gaze toward the grand entrance again. She was excited, she finally had something she’d desired since she was a little girl, something many crave but die never finding. True unconditional love. “Did you see who Keller arrived with last time?” “Beaumont, right? Mia Beaumont?” “Makes sense. He’s always around her office. People say they’re working late together.” “Working or…? She’s the Beaumont heiress. He’s plotting, besides they’re perfect for each other.” “Maybe. Or maybe he’s finally chosen power over whatever girl he’s been hiding.” Miaelle’s smile didn’t falter. They don’t know, she told herself. They’re just guessing. Gabriell spends time with Mia because of me. We’re always together. Of course they’ve been seen. “Members of the elite” the announcer proclaimed smoothly into the microphone, “please welcome our very own Mr. Gabriell Keller.” The room fell silent, some straightened and adjusted their attire, while others couldn't care less about impressions and cared more about who this rising star in the business world was. Miaelle smoothed a hand over the silky fabric of her dress and stepped forward, her striking grey eyes latching onto the entrance doors. And then he walked in. “Wow,” she whispered. Gabriell looked devastating. Donned in a five-hundred-dollar tailored navy blue suit that swathed itself around his towering frame, showcasing every muscle and fueling some people’s fantasies. The crisp white shirt beneath accentuated the matching silver cufflinks at his sleeves, while the black designer Louboutins clicked confidently against the marble floor. “That, is one fooooooiiiinnnneeee specimen!” “Right!” “Is that… Mia Beaumont? The Beaumont heiress?” “Looks like it.” “You owe me ten bucks.” “I knew there was something between them!” Astonishing in a silver semi-translucent slim-fit dress that embraced every perilous curve of her body, Mia looked like she had stridded straight out of an old Hollywood fantasy. On her lips sat a smile Miaelle had seen thousands of times before, it was the smile of a pretentious backstabbing best friend. Miaelle stood immobilized, the champagne glass she held slid, nearly dropping from her numb fingers. “Mia?” She whispered. “No!” It didn’t make sense. Mia knew Gabriell was coming to announce their engagement. Mia had helped Miaelle pick her dress for tonight, had hugged her two hours ago and squealed excitedly about becoming her maid of honour someday. Mia had also told her that Gabriell was busy preparing for the banquet when she’d called her talking about how Gabriell had said he couldn’t arrive with her there. “Guess the rumours were true after all.” “Hey, is that her? The one he was secretly seeing” A woman pointed at Miaelle. “Seems like it. Maybe he was just there for the sex…” “Nah, maybe she’s the one who couldn’t let go.” “Damnnn!!” “Poor girl,” someone murmured nearby. “She really thought she was the one.” “Guess he upgraded. Beaumont money beats mystery any day.” “Do you think she knew?” “No. Look at her face. She’s shattered.” Gabriell’s eyes swept across the room before finally landing on her. For a minuscule split second, something flickered across his face, guilt maybe. But it disappeared so quickly Miaelle almost imagined it. Mia noticed her too and her smile faltered ever so slightly. “Elle…” she mouthed weakly. Gabriell slowly removed Mia’s hand from his arm, though not quickly enough to miss the cameras flashing around them.The misplaced Heiress“I can’t believe you got Auntie A to agree to this!” Sylas kept his voice low, as if the dark corner of the Lumière parking lot might report them. “I didn’t convince her,” Lysandra said, tugging the cap lower and messing up her hair a little bit. “I presented a well-reasoned plan and she approved it.” “I’m not saying it’s a bad plan, just risky, especially since it might…” Sylas closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, it was clear he wasn’t quite convinced. “I mean, I could have done it!” Lysandra smiled as she pulled on the thrift-store cardigan. “Oh please, we both know that wouldn’t work. They know who you are. But they don’t know who I am.” She reached back and pulled out the slightly worn sandals, replacing her heels with them. “Or at least they think they do.” Sylas looked out the windscreen and sighed exasperatedly. “So your plan is to go in there as Miaelle and hope they can’t recognize you as the Vane heiress so you can get a job as a cleaner and
The returned Heir “Goodbye, son, do come home more often, it gets quite lonely for an old man such as myself.”“I’ll see to that, Father.” Alastair then turned and nodded towards the housekeeper. “Darlington.” “It was a pleasure, young master.” Darlington gave a slight bow. Chauncey padded towards them, eventually settling beside Zayn’s feet. Zayn glanced down at the little creature, expression darkening as he seriously contemplated nudging it away roughly with the toe of his sandal.“Father, don’t.” Alastair realized what his father was thinking and intercepted. “Chauncey, come here, boy.” Zayn glared at the little creature, which seemed entirely unfazed by his hostility and trotted happily back to its owner.“Don’t bring it back here again, understood?”“Can’t make any promises.”“Son!”Alastair chuckled as he climbed into the Bentley and beckoned Chauncey in after him. “Goodbye, Father.”With that, he settled behind the wheel and drove off, still laughing as he reached over to
The returned Heir Zayn and Alastair sat down facing each other. Alastair looked around the room and there was no sign of Chauncey. He shrugged it off for later. “Tell me,” Zayn asked quietly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? I’m assuming you’ve come to question me about your mother again.” “On the contrary, Father. I have come to relay my deepest apologies for how I behaved on our first reunion.” “Is that so?” Zayn leaned back, studying his son as silence settled between them. Finally, Zayn broke the silence. “I’m more interested in what is in that gift bag.” Alastair raised a brow as if to say “Really?” Zayn caught on to it and smugly smiled at his son. “It is for me, is it not?” “You really aren’t making this easier.” “In my defence,” Zayn gestured towards him. “You weren’t an easy son to raise either, contrary to what everybody believes.” Alastair said nothing further, he gently picked up the gift bag and handed it to Zayn. He opened it with the utmost
The returned Heir Alastair parked outside the gate to his childhood home, beside him sat a perfectly wrapped gift package, and at the back, Chauncey slept peacefully, unaware of his owner’s reluctance to go through with the visit. “Young master, is that really you? Such a pleasure, such a surprise.” Mr. Earlington, the gatewatcher, couldn't believe his eyes. It had been years since he’d last seen the young master and oh my, was he young no more. “Welcome home, young master Aarhil!” “Thank you Mr. Earlington, will you please open the gate so I can give you a proper greeting? It’s getting quite chilly out here.” Alastair gestured to the darkening clouds. “Right away young master, pardon my shock.” As soon as Mr Earlington opened the gates, Alastair drove and parked just beyond them, opened his car door and strode towards the gentlemen. “Mr. Earlington, it’s been too long.” He said and gave the man a firm handshake. “And yet somehow, you don’t seem to age one bit.” “Young master,
The misplaced HeiressThree days later, as the family sat in the family study, each going about their own work, Amara decided it was time to execute their plan.“So, have you decided on whether you’ll meet up with your husband or where y’all are reuniting?”“That’s actually a very good question you’ve got there, Auntie A. I’d like to know whether we’re meeting the in-law too, little cousin!”“Errm…” Lysandra looked around the table for another distraction, evidently not willing to have the conversation. “I’m not quite sure yet actually. I’m still deciding.”“Is that so,” Amara slowly set down her magazine. “Are we privy to any information regarding the thinking process?”“I actually am still thinking about…” Lysandra trailed off as her gaze zeroed in on an open file by Sylas’ pile.“You’re still thinking about…?”Instead of answering she reached over and pulled the file closer and inspected it further. The more she read, the more her facial expression became unpleasant with uncertaint
The sibling CousinAfter supper, Lysandra retired to her room, opting to have a light snack brought up to her later. Sylas and Amara slipped away to the study at the far end of the east wing, its thick walls ensuring their conversation would remain private.“So,” Amara sat opposite Sylas, one leg elegantly placed over the other as she stared at him. “What news do you have for me?”“I hate to disappoint you, Auntie A, but as circumstances present, not a lot.”“What circumstances are you talking about?”“Hmm… how do I say this,” he paused and sat straighter. “It may seem as though our in-law barely existed until a few days before that banquet.”“You don’t say?”“Yes, there’s a bit more to it all.”“What else did you find out?”“He’s not very social, more of an under-the-radar kind of guy I presume.” Sylas folded his hands as he leaned back. “However, I did realize one thing that might help. Not only have I barely heard his name, but I also don’t even know what he looks like. Maybe if I







