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Chapter Eight

Author: DeeShine
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-17 13:58:43

Damon’s POV

I didn’t know what I was doing—only that I wanted to feel nothing.

After hours of drinking alone, replaying Isabella’s journal in my mind and the way the empty house had swallowed me whole, I’d stumbled through the door of the apartment I now shared with Kiara.

I hadn’t meant to wake her. But maybe I had.

She was already waiting when I stepped into the bedroom, her hair loose, eyes alert even in the dark. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.

She walked to me slowly, as if reading something in my silence. Her fingers slid against my shirt, unbuttoning it without question, without judgment. My lips found hers before I could think. And for a few minutes—maybe hours—I let myself forget.

The bed creaked beneath us as her skin pressed into mine. My hands gripped her waist, my breath uneven, and she welcomed every piece of my confusion like it was affection. It wasn’t love. God, it wasn’t love. But it was something. Something to hold onto. Something to help me escape.

She m
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  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty-Five

    Isabella’s POVThe morning light felt different.It wasn’t harsh or cold. It was soft and golden, spilling through the curtains like the first breath after a long storm. For a moment, I didn’t move. I simply lay there, letting the warmth stretch across my face. It didn’t feel like survival anymore. It felt like peace.Then my phone began buzzing, vibrating against the nightstand with a chorus of alerts and messages.At first, I ignored it. But curiosity or maybe instinct made me reach for it.The first headline almost made me drop the phone.ABRAM EMPIRE EXPOSED: YEARS OF FRAUD, FIRE COVER-UP, AND STOLEN FORTUNE UNCOVERED.I sat up, heart pounding. Article after article filled the screen, evidence, files, statements. My uncle’s face was everywhere, but not as the powerful man he once was. The world finally saw him for what he truly was.The forged medical records.The laundered accounts.The manipulated inheritance.Even the truth about the fire that nearly killed me.It was all there

  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty-Four

    Damon’s POVThe city didn’t sleep that night and neither did I.From my office window, the skyline flickered like a dying heartbeat. Every screen, every whisper, every headline was about her — Isabella. I know she goes by Marisol Abram now, but I can’t get used to that name. She’ll always be Isabella to me, how I met her, how I remember her, before everything burned.I hadn’t slept in two days. Not since she faced her uncle on live television and shattered the empire built on lies. I watched every second — each word cutting through the dark like lightning. And while the world saw her rise, I worked in the shadows. Because this time, she wouldn’t have to fight alone.Marcus sat across from me, eyes red from exhaustion, typing with quiet fury. The office was dim, lit only by the blue glow of our monitors.“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Once we release it, there’s no going back. You’re not just destroying him, you’re burning your own legacy too.”“I’m not doing this for legacy,” I

  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty-Three

    Uncle’s POV The city looks smaller tonight.From the top floor of Abram Tower the skyline fractures across the glass in gold and blue. Down there life goes on, lights flicker, cabs circle, but I know the world has changed. Everything tilted on one voice.Marisol Abram.My screens flare with her name. Anchors pick apart the image of her at the podium that calm, measured face as she looked at me and said the things I never expected to hear. And somehow, the world believed her.I turn the volume up until the anchor’s practiced cadence overwhelms the room.“…following last night’s confrontation, public sentiment has shifted in favor of Marisol Abram, now confirmed as the rightful heir…”I slam the remote down. The clatter dies into the steady hum of traffic below and the pulse in my temples.I fumble for my phone and start calling. Head of media straight to voicemail. Communications director voicemail. The PR chief finally answers, voice tight.“Sir, the coverage is everywhere. We’re try

  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty-Two

    Isabella’s POVThe morning after the gala, the world had turned into a courtroom. My name was everywhere—trending, dissected, glorified, doubted. Headlines screamed “Heiress Reborn,” “The Fire That Lied,” “Marisol Abram's Return Shakes Empire.” Every channel replayed when I stood beneath the lights and spoke my truth.But inside, there was no chaos. Only stillness.For years, I’d lived as a shadow—nameless, forgotten, rewritten by others. Now my face, my name, and my voice were out there. Irrevocable. Terrifying and freeing all at once. I could never disappear again.Mia hovered near the couch, restless hands around her mug. “You should eat something,” she murmured for the fifth time.“I will,” I said, though we both knew I wouldn’t.She turned up the muted TV. “He’s already spoken,” she said quietly. “Your uncle called you a liar… said you faked everything for attention.”I felt the words, not as surprise but as confirmation. “Of course he did.”Mia hesitated. “They’re calling it dama

  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty-One

    Damon’s POVI woke to a room full of noise.Not the ordinary hum of messages and calendar alerts. This was the sudden, sharp clamor that says something has already broken. Phones buzzed, news pings stacked on the nightstand, and a muted TV threw images across the ceiling. For a moment I lay still, letting the sound find me.Marcus’s name flashed across the screen again and again. I hit speakerphone before I was fully awake.“You see this?” Marcus’s voice was flat. Behind him, other voices moved like a current. Whatever was happening had already started.I turned up the TV. The anchor was polished and calm, then footage rolled: chandeliers, clinking glasses, the charity gala. The camera tightened on a woman at the podium. The pendant at her throat caught the light. The invitation on the table read Marisol Abram.Isabella. Marisol. She stood at the microphone with her shoulders even and her chin lifted. The woman on the screen was not fragile. She was forged by what had tried to destroy

  • The Lost Heiress’s Glorious Return   Chapter Eighty

    Isabella’s POVThe name Marisol Abram had been buried for years, erased from records, replaced with someone quieter. Someone invisible.But ghosts don’t stay buried forever.It started with a headline.Mia slid her phone across the counter that morning, her eyes bright with disbelief.“Look,” she said. “He’s holding a charity gala next weekend. ‘The Abram Foundation for the Future.’ Can you believe that?”The article glowed back at me, my uncle’s smiling face beside the words legacy, resilience, and renewal. The same man who stole everything from me is now branding himself with the ruins he created.A gala.A stage.An audience that once whispered about me behind champagne glasses.Mia crossed her arms. “You’re not actually thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”I looked up slowly. “He wanted to erase me. Maybe it’s time I remind him I still exist.”“Isabella”“Not Isabella,” I corrected quietly. “Marisol.”The word felt strange on my tongue, heavy, familiar, like a melody I

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