All Chapters of The Heiress in Glass: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Vivienne Laurent had learned long ago how to disappear in plain sight.She stood at the far end of the ballroom, beneath a crystal chandelier that glittered like a frozen constellation, holding a champagne flute she had no intention of drinking. The glass tower of Laurent International loomed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, its mirrored surface reflecting the city lights below. From a distance, she looked like exactly what she was supposed to be: a poised billionaire heiress, draped in silk, her dark hair swept into an elegant twist.Up close, the illusion fractured.Her shoulders were tight. Her smile—when she offered it—was carefully rationed. And every few minutes, her gaze flicked instinctively toward the raised dais at the center of the room, where her stepmother presided like a queen over court.Margaux Laurent was radiant tonight. She always was.She wore crimson, the color of conquest, her blonde hair arranged perfectly, her laughter ringing loud enough to command attenti

Daniel had always believed that power announced itself loudly. He’d been wrong. Margaux Laurent didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t threaten outright. She walked beside him down the executive corridor as if they were equals, heels clicking softly against marble, her posture relaxed, her smile mild. It was that calm that unsettled him. “You’ve done well,” Margaux said conversationally. “I remember when you were just a boy loitering near our estate gates.” Daniel kept his gaze forward. “I was employed.” “Of course,” she said. “I admire ambition. Especially when it rises above circumstance.” A polite insult. He recognized it. They reached her office—a sweeping space of glass and steel overlooking the city. Margaux gestured for him to sit. She remained standing. “You know why I requested your firm,” she said. Daniel chose his words carefully. “Because we specialize in adaptive urban development.” Margaux smiled faintly. “Partly. But mostly because you understand Laurent Internat

The storm arrived without warning.Rain streaked down the glass walls of Vivienne’s penthouse, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and silver. Thunder rolled low and distant, a sound that felt like a warning rather than weather.Daniel stood near the window, jacket draped over a chair, sleeves rolled up. He looked out at the city like a man measuring distance—between where he was and where he wanted to be.Vivienne watched him from across the room.She had never been alone with him like this as an adult. Not without schedules. Not without eyes watching. The air felt heavier for it, charged with things neither of them had said for years.“I know I invited you, but you shouldn’t stay here much longer,” she said softly.Daniel turned. “I know.”The honesty in his voice made her chest ache.“If Margaux finds out—”“She already suspects,” he interrupted. “She always does.”Vivienne folded her arms, hugging herself. “She controls everything around me. Security. Staff. The board.”

The audit began quietly.Too quietly.Vivienne noticed the signs before anyone said a word—subtle delays, sudden requests for documents that hadn’t been relevant in years, whispered conversations that stopped when she entered a room.Margaux hadn’t lashed out.She’d smiled.And that frightened Vivienne more than open cruelty ever had.By the end of the week, the damage revealed itself.Elise stood in Vivienne’s office, hands clenched at her sides. “They’ve frozen three discretionary accounts tied to your personal foundation.”Vivienne stiffened. “On what grounds?”“Compliance irregularities,” Elise said. “They’re citing historical oversight.”Vivienne knew better.Margaux was dismantling her independence piece by piece.“They’re also reviewing staff access,” Elise added quietly. “Including me.”Vivienne closed her eyes.This was Margaux’s favorite tactic—isolating her, cutting away allies until only obedience remained.“Thank you for telling me,” Vivienne said. “No matter what happens

The man at the door was not alone.Vivienne registered that first—the quiet weight of presence behind him, the faint shift of movement in the hallway. Two security officers stood a step back, faces professional, unreadable.Her heart didn’t race.It sank.“Ms. Laurent,” the man said gently, already apologetic. “I’m here on behalf of the board.”The words echoed too loudly in the penthouse.Vivienne tightened her robe around herself. “It’s after midnight.”“Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid that couldn’t be avoided.”She stepped aside.They entered like guests, like intruders, like inevitability.They sat at her dining table—glass, steel, impossibly clean. The city beyond the windows glittered, unaware.The man placed a folder in front of her.“Due to recent concerns raised regarding your emotional wellbeing and decision-making capacity,” he began, “the board has agreed to a temporary conservatorship—”Vivienne laughed.It burst out of her, sharp and incredulous.“You can’t be serious.”“I am