All Chapters of THE HARRISON HEIRESS: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Freya’s POV The house felt strange that morning. Too still Too empty. When I opened my eyes, sunlight was already spilling across the sheets, and for a moment, I couldn't remember what day it was. The clock said half nine—long after Finn’s bus had left. I’d meant to tidy the kitchen and rest for a few minutes, but somehow, I’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. The silence unsettled me. No clattering dishes. No Mrs. Sutton’s television echoing through the hall. No Malum humming out of tune from the kitchen. Just… quiet. It felt like the house was holding its breath. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the calm. “You’re up for breakfast this morning before we go to the kids’ school? —Scarlett. It took me a moment to place her name. The café, I remembered. The red lipstick, the easy confidence, the way she’d talked about motherhood like it wasn't a burden. I don't know yet, I typed back. That means it’s a yes. See you in an hour. And just like that, the

Freya’s POV Scarlett drove us back to the kids’ school, and somewhere between the turns and the quiet humor of the car, she suggested something that made my heart stop. “Freya… have you ever thought of returning to the orphanage where you grew up? Maybe they kept some record. Maybe there’s something there… something about your parents.” Her voice was gentle but firm, like she already knew how long I’d been afraid to think about that place again. I stared out the window, watching buildings blur into each other. “I… I don’t know what I’d find.” “Whatever it is, you won't find it alone,” she said. “If you ever decide to go... call me. I’ll come with you. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.” For a moment, I couldn't breathe. It didn't feel like she was a stranger we’d only recently met. It felt like I already knew her — deeply, instinctively. Like she could have been… family. And for the first time in years, the thought didn't terrify me. The thought thrilled me. Maybe I had

Rowan’s POV Mother had been the one who insisted on today’s party. She said it was to celebrate Daisy. I know Daisy is her only grandchild at the moment, but I also know that Mother likes reasons to bring the whole family under the same roof. The doctor had warned her countless times to avoid a noisy environment during her treatment—too much stimulation triggers side effects, sometimes severe enough to force her to restart the entire process. We’ve disobeyed the doctor a few times, bringing her to small gatherings, and each time it ended badly. So seeing her walk around today—happy, stable—makes me grateful beyond words. I searched for her when everything was finally ready, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. Clio and I were just about to head into the garden to look for her when she appeared… side by side with the woman we saw at the hospital the other day—the little boy’s mother. The two of them walking in together gave a strange image. A softness. Almost like mother and daugh

Kai’s POV I wasn't sure why my stomach had been twisting itself into knots all morning. Maybe it was the text. Maybe it was the woman attached to it. “Can we meet first? Somewhere quiet.” When she sent those words, my first instinct was that it felt wrong—unsafe, even. A celebrity meeting a stranger was already questionable. But a celebrity meeting a stranger who claims to be your sister? That was a different thing entirely. That came with its own mess of fear, hope, and the heavy, suffocating weight of possibility. I told myself it wasn't reasonable… and then I told myself I didn't care about reasonable. If she is my sister, if she really is the Harrison lost Heiress… then declining her first attempt to reach out might ruin everything before it even begins. I didn't want the story we could have—whatever it was—dying before it had a chance to breathe. So I sent her the address to Aiden’s mom’s restaurant. My manager tried to insist on sending bodyguards, but I refused.

Freya’s POV Malum leaving the house for a business trip should have frightened me. A few months ago, I would have felt abandoned, anxious, and guilty, or even wished he’d stay. But now? Now his absence feels like oxygen. He didn’t tell me where he was going—of course, he didn’t—but I overheard him speaking with his mother in the sitting room yesterday. Dubai. A “meeting.” A week, maybe more. And he wasn’t going alone. Cassandra. Of course. He tried to lower his voice when he said her name, but he never lowers his voice enough. Or maybe I’ve just learned to listen with the desperation of someone who lives on warnings. Mrs. Sutton, too, announced she had “somewhere important to be” and would return whenever her son did. She didn’t need to say the real reason—whatever they plotted, they plotted together. He didn’t mention when he’d return, and that unsettles me more than anything. If I’m going to do something—anything—I have to do it before he steps back through that do