Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Heiress & Her Scottish Mafia Twins: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Eilidh (AY-lee) MacLeod POVPeople love a rags to riches story. Unfortunately for Cole, he married the wrong girl for that.I wasn’t some small town nobody clawing my way into Hollywood. I was born into more money than most people can even imagine, to one of the most powerful families in Scotland. Old money. Empire money. The kind of wealth where people don’t ask how much, they ask how many countries.I made my first million before I could legally drive, acting in plays, television, and films while other kids were worried about acne and algebra. My parents invested every penny, and by the time I turned eighteen, the interest alone could’ve kept me in champagne and private jets for the rest of my life. But that wasn’t the point. I didn’t want to be “the MacLeod heiress.” I wanted to earn my success, really earn it. Plus my parents were fucking AWFUL. So I packed my bags, ditched my name, and moved to America. I enrolled at the California Institute of the Arts under a false identity, t

Eilidh POVI grinned, picturing the look on Cole's face when Hoff walked onto his set. "I'm sure ye will." Hoffman's smirk turned sharp. He scooped up the papers, slid them into a sleek leather portfolio, and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair."Where are ye goin'?" I asked, even though I already knew."To make a delivery," he said. "I think Cole deserves the personal touch." I sat back in the chair, crossing my legs and letting the grin stretch slow across my face. "Oh, I wish I could see it."He buttoned his jacket, his eyes glinting. "Don't worry, lass. You will. I'll make sure the cameras are rolling."With that said, Hoffman strode out the door, divorce papers in hand, ready to set my ex husband's perfect little world on fire.Mr. Hoffman POV - Special Delivery I've known Eilidh MacLeod since she was a little girl with scraped knees and a Scottish brogue so thick I could barely understand her. I watched her grow into a woman who could command any stage, any scree

Eilidh POVLAX VIP LoungeTwo hours and hellacious traffic later, we were tucked into buttery smooth leather seats in the VIP lounge at LAX, a bottle of champagne between us. The world outside was chaos, cameras, security lines, and screaming kids, but in here, it was quiet luxury. Cat was scrolling through her phone, smirking. “You’re still trending, babe. Look... #ThatScottishBitch is up to number three.”I leaned back, sipping my champagne. “Has a nice ring tae it, doesn’t it?” That’s when I felt it, the prickle of eyes on me. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention immediately. I turned my head just enough to spy them. Two very HOT men at the far end of the lounge. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. Delicious facial hair. Matching smirks that looked carved from sin. Identical. Twins. The pair of them were built like tree trunks. One caught my gaze and lifted his glass in a lazy toast. I looked away first. Always leave them guessing. Cat noticed immediately. “Who are the

Eilidh POVI opened my mouth to ask my folks a question, but stopped when a shadow fell across us. “Problem?” We all turned. Callum MacAllister stood a few paces away, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed like he hadn’t just walked into enemy territory. His eyes flicked from my parents to me, lingering there a beat longer than was polite.“Not at all,” I said before either of them could speak. “Just family business.”Da’s voice dropped lower, colder. “This conversation is over.” Callum ignored him completely. “Didn’t get my chance tae dance with ye,” he said to me, his tone casual but his gaze anything but. “Seemed only fair.”Ma’s lips pressed so tight they turned white. “The lady’s occupied.” I tilted my head defiantly, holding Callum’s stare. “I’m not.”His mouth curved, just slightly, like he’d won something. He extended a hand. “Then what do ye say, lass?” Behind me, Da muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like over my dead body. But I slid my fingers into C

Eilidh POVI rolled my eyes but pulled out my phone anyway. “Fine. Just tae see if karma’s doin’ her job.”Cat scooted closer so she could see my screen. Within seconds, we were both scrolling through the Hollywood gossip feeds. It didn’t take long before I found it, a headline in bold letters:COLE HARRINGTON’S ON-SET MELTDOWN: INSIDER CLAIMS ACTOR’S BEHAVIOR IS ‘OUT OF CONTROL’“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Cat said, snatching the phone from my hand. She read aloud: “Sources report Harrington has been showing up late to set, forgetting lines, and clashing with the director. Production insiders blame ‘personal issues’ for the disruption.”I smirked. “Personal issues like bein’ a lyin’, cheatin’ arse.”“That’s not even the best part,” Cat said, scrolling further. She tapped another headline. COLE HARRINGTON SPOTTED ARGUING WITH CO-STAR ANYA VETROVA OUTSIDE LUXURY HOTELThe photo beneath it was glorious, Cole, red faced and mid shout, while Anya glared at him like she was about to walk