All Chapters of Return Of The Betrayed Heiress : Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

Emelda's POVThe fancy ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton sparkled like a jewelry box. Crystal lights hung from the ceiling, throwing colorful reflections across tables covered in silk and women wearing expensive dresses. Champagne glasses clinked together as everyone celebrated Carter Enterprises going public, and the air buzzed with excitement about new money and fresh success.I stood in the corner like a ghost, watching Allen control the room from behind the microphone. He looked amazing in his custom tuxedo, every bit the successful boss who had officially become worth forty-seven million dollars tonight. “Five years ago, I had nothing but a dream,” Allen's voice boomed through the speakers, his practiced smile catching the bright lights. “No money, no friends in high places, no head start—just pure determination and the belief that anything was possible in America.”The crowd made approving sounds. I pressed my back against the wall, my simple black dress feeling cheap next to all th

I Ran from the hotel, my heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk as I thought about how embarrassed I felt. Tears kept stinging my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. I waved my arms wildly until a taxi finally pulled over. I jumped in and slammed the door shut. “Midtown. Just drive,” I whispered, my voice shaking. The taxi ride home felt like traveling through a dream—or maybe a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. The city lights blurred past the window as we drove through the streets, each turn bringing me closer to the mansion that had been my home for two years. My home with Allen.“Here we are, miss,” the driver said gently, looking at me in the rearview mirror with worried eyes. I must have looked as broken as I felt.I handed him the money with shaky hands and stepped out onto the circular driveway. The mansion sat in front of me, its windows dark except for the automatic security lights that lit up the entrance. It looked different somehow—colder, more unwelcoming. Like a fortre

A week had passed since I'd come home, and I was starting to feel almost human again. The familiar routines of the Jones mansion—breakfast at eight, fresh flowers changed daily, the soft tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway—had wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Mrs. Howell had been feeding me her chicken soup and homemade bread every day, and the dark circles under my eyes were finally starting to fade.I was sitting at the dining table in the living room, picking at my scrambled eggs and reading the financial news on my tablet, when Mother walked in carrying a stack of newspapers and magazines. She looked perfectly put together as always in her navy blazer and pearls, but there was something different about her expression. Something that made my stomach tighten."Good morning, darling," she said, settling into the chair across from me. "How are you feeling today?""Better," I said carefully. "The sleep helps. And Mrs. Howell's cooking.""Good. You're looking more like yo