All Chapters of DARLA FIN:THE HEIRESS'S WICKED REBIRTH: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Darla’s POVI stood there frozen, gripping the small gift box so tightly I could feel the edge pressing into my palm.Inside, the sounds continued. Soft moans. A woman’s voice breathing hard and giggling like she was satisfied with what he was doing to her.No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be what it sounded like. I moved closer, making sure my feet didn’t make any sound, until I was near enough to hear every breath, every muffled sound, every low chuckle that didn’t belong to a man who had just left to use the bathroom.Then her voice came again, as a whisper. It was soft but cruel in silence.“What about that actress girl? The one you keep filming with?”Air refused to enter into my lungs. My hands gripped the edge of the doorframe, my nails digging into the wood.Then he laughed. Wait… he laughed???“She’s just one of those things, babe,” he said casually, like I was nothing but a phase. “She’s pretty, sure… and the sex was good, but you know I don’t feel anything for her. I was just

Melanie’s POV“_Some people will hate your light just because it makes their shadows louder.”_I stared at the camera, curling my lips into the softest, fakest smile I had ever worn. My eyes glowed under the ring light, soft and angelic. Perfect for the quote I had carefully chosen:_FORGIVENESS AND GROWTH: my truth._“_I’ve been quiet for too long, letting others tell my story.__I’ve learned the hard way that not everyone clapping for you wants to see you win.__Some people only come close so they can copy your light or steal your opportunities, and when you finally speak up, they say you’re the villain.__I never imagined that someone I called a sister would twist things just to protect their name and fame.__But I forgive you… Darla Morrison.___Not because you deserve it, but because I deserve peace.__Keep shining, Cous. Even if the light was never yours to begin with.”_And just to twist the knife a little deeper, I attached the voice recording I had secretly taken from the nig

Darla’s pov HEADLINES: “Eva Sinclair Was Never Up for Grabs”Melanie Harts attempt to replace Darla Morrison sparks backlash and lawsuits. For the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t my name being dragged through the flames.And I just… breathed.I sat cross-legged on the couch,my phone in my hand, my eyes locked on my screen. I scrolled through headline after headline, and for once they weren’t tearing me apart. I didn’t have to force a smile while people wrote things to tear me apart or wonder why my face was suddenly all over the internet with hashtags I never wanted.Melanie had pulled the trigger And she had shot herself instead.A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. No press team, no apology video, no staged tears. Just silence. Stillness. I had learned the art of patience the hard way.My phone buzzed beside me.It was Ezra calling. I picked up without hesitation.“Hey, hacker boy.”“You’re welcome,” he said without even saying hello. “You owe me dinner

Darla’s POV“Shit. It’s not here too.”The voice wasn’t mine, but it came from inside my bedroom.I froze mid-step, the glass of water slipping from my hand and shattering against the kitchen tile.Then the sound of footsteps, slow and measured, like they weren’t in a rush.My blood turned cold.My fingers trembled as I grabbed my phone and fired off a message to Ezra:DARLA: Someone’s in my apartment.EZRA: Lock yourself in or get out. I’m on my way.Screw hiding, I wasn’t that girl anymore.I moved fast, quiet but sharp. My body knew exactly where to go. Just past the entry table, behind the large vase of fake peonies, I reached for it: the bat.An aluminum baseball bat. It was old, dented, but still solid. It had belonged to my father. The moment I wrapped my fingers around the grip, my fear turned to fire.I moved closer to the bedroom, heart pounding like a war drum.One step. Then another.I gripped the bat tighter and nudged the door open with the edge of my foot.It was empty.

Darla’s POVI didn’t flinch.I didn’t roll my eyes. Didn’t throw the phone or the plate or the past in his face. I just stared at the message a second longer, then walked over and placed the warm food gently on the table.Then I leaned down and touched his shoulder lightly.“Richard,” I said, soft but firm. “Wake up.”He stirred with a tired grunt, blinking his eyes open slowly like his body was still trying to catch up with his guilt.“Huh?” he mumbled, sitting up halfway. His hand immediately reached for his phone, his fingers fumbling as it slipped off his chest and hit the couch.Too late.I had already seen what I needed to see.He grabbed it quickly and turned it over, his thumb hovering over the screen like he could erase whatever damage had been done with one swipe.I smiled.“Melanie texted,” I said,my voice as calm as ever. “You’ve been cold all day, apparently.”His head snapped towards me instantly. “Darla…”“Relax.” I sat beside him and pushed the plate closer. “Your food