All Chapters of HEIRESS REBORN: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

POV: ELENA CROSS The invitation list is a goddamn nightmare. I’ve had to call in four favors just to get two councilmen to stop pretending I don’t exist. Three of the names on the list ghosted my calls all week, and now that my name’s bouncing around like gum on the bottom of a shoe, even the ones who used to crawl to kiss my ring are suddenly “booked” or “waiting to see their schedule.”Cowards.Every one of them.I stand in my dressing room, phone pressed to my ear, one hand yanking the zipper up the side of my gown, the other shaking from rage I can barely swallow. "Yes, Senator, I understand that you don’t normally attend private functions... but this isn’t a function. It’s a strategic meeting of aligned interest holders, with people who can, let’s be honest, keep your little extracurriculars from making headlines."Silence.I smile, too wide."Yes, I’ll see you there."Click.The moment the call ends, I throw the phone across the room. It hits the velvet armchair and bounces ont

POV: ROURKEI should’ve let it go. Just let the file close and move on. But something about it keeps scratching at the back of my mind.Alina Rivers.The name alone still hits like a hammer to the ribs. She was supposed to be one of the good ones. Smart. Quiet. Kept her head down. Never fit into the Cross world, not really. I remember thinking, the first time I saw her at one of their fundraisers, she looked like she wanted to disappear. A ghost in a room full of monsters.Then she did disappear.Now here I am, five years later, circling her name again. Except this time, she’s not a person. She’s a case file. A list of odd timings. A hit-and-run that never quite sat right.I pull up Cross-affiliated security footage. Four events. Separate dates, different boroughs. All supposedly unrelated. Except they’re not. Not when I stack them side by side and start overlaying clips.There.Kaia.In every single one.Always in the background. Always hovering near Nathaniel. Never too close, never

POV: ALINAThe townhouse door clicks shut behind us, muffling the city, the gala, the glass smiles, the snake-thin lies. I rip off my heels before I even make it up the stairs. Damien trails behind me, silent. He had shown up later that evening as I was leaving and decided to tag alongI can feel the question burning in his throat. I can feel my own heart still racing from the tension, the way Nathaniel looked at me too long, the way Elena called me “ambitious in the worst way” with her smile barely holding.The silence between us stretches.In the bathroom, I wash my face too hard. The eyeliner smears like soot under my eyes, but I don’t stop scrubbing until my skin burns.Damien leans against the doorway, watching.“You okay?” he asks finally.I grip the edge of the sink and stare at my reflection. My face. Alina Rivers, dead. Kaia, ruthless. I don’t know where the line is anymore.“No,” I whisper.He walks in, wraps his arms around me from behind, and rests his chin on my shoulder.

POV: VIVIANI don’t knock. I don’t text. I don’t do any of the polite shit we usually do when we’re trying to pretend this world is normal.The elevator doors open directly into her penthouse, and I walk straight in.I’m shaking. Not crying, not scared. Just vibrating with the kind of rage that comes from disbelief wrapped in a smile. The manila envelope in my hand is already crumpled at the edges, the flap torn open from how hard I ripped it.She’s standing at the window, as always. Watching the city like it owes her something. She turns slowly. Calm. Too calm."Vivian.""Rourke gave it to her."I throw the envelope onto the kitchen island like it burns me.She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just walks over, picks it up like it’s a grocery receipt, and flips through it."I know," she says quietly.That’s it. That’s all.I slam my hands on the marble counter. "You knew?"She finally looks up at me. Her face is blank. That blank she does when she’s barely holding it together. When she

POV: ELENAI don’t sleep that night.Not even a wink.The folder stays open on my desk like a wound that refuses to close, bleeding questions onto every surface of my mind.Alina Rivers.Kaia Lane.The ghost in silk heels.I replay every interaction. Every glance, every clipped smile she offered. The way she never bowed, never apologized for being sharp. She was always… too controlled. Controlled the way a survivor learns to be.Pointed and daggered.Always challenging me.It was hate. Pure hate And I saw it. My gut saw it. But I was too arrogant to name it.Until now.I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. I've survived campaigns that would break lesser people. Manipulated senators, crushed rivals, rebuilt Nathaniel’s messes more times than I can count. But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares me for the moment I stare down at that folder from Rourke and realize what I’m looking at.Kaia. That slippery, smug little assistant who walks like she owns every room but never says too much.