All Chapters of The Heiress He Lost, The Woman His Uncle Claimed : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Camilla’s POV The two-hundred-thousand-dollar, black Hermès backless halter-neck fitted me perfectly. I planned to wear it the night I'd finally tell Nathaniel I was pregnant but that day was never going to come. I had booked a hotel after I left the house, showered, changed and showed up to the Hartford family dinner because I wanted to look them all in the eye for the last time.The estate dining room smelled like money and misery, the way it always did. Margaret Hartford, my mother-in-law, looked up from her wine glass the moment I stepped in. "You're seven minutes late.""Good evening to you too, Mother." Her eyes twitched. She hated when I used that term on her. Ingrid Hartford, Nathaniel's younger sister, was already seated and scrolling through her phone. She didn't look up as she said "We thought you weren't coming. Honestly, I would've preferred it."I pulled out my chair and sat down. "I know."The table was already half full. Aunts, cousins, the family lawyer Mr.

Luca’s POVI loathed the rest of the Hartford’s. And accepting an arranged marriage from someone who could get me close enough to crush them was exactly why I was here. “Well then, I'll leave you guys to it" Elias Voss left the room quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. I had expected the only heir to the Voss empire who just got divorced to be a woman of sophisticated features. Dyed blonde hair, extreme unnatural curvy body, casually wearing a Dior outfit even on a random day or walking around with heels on. The embodiment of a woman who had been married into the Hartford family, who had lived there for three years. But the woman in front of me was the complete opposite, her silk dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, her almond eyes rested on mine, she had such bright skin and was built in a simple gown, pushing not more than twenty five years old. I could still feel her delicate hand against mine from the hand shake and the cold shill running up my spine from her calm

Third person's POV "Voss." He said the name, like it tasted wrong. "She's a goddamned Voss?”The vase hit the wall and shattered against the cream wallpaper of the Hartford sitting room, leaving a dark stain that was spreading slowly. Nathaniel stood in the center of the room with the jacket gone shirt half tucked in. He was pacing non-stop around the living room while sweating profusely. Margaret, who sat on the edge of the sofa with her hands folded In her lap, she tried to think of something but ended up letting her eyes follow Nathaniel as he moved up and down. " Nathaniel..” she tried to call out. "Don't." He turned to her. “If you can just sit down…" “And then what" he threw his hands frantically "then you act like I'm being irrational!" He walked up to her and stood. “I want you to tell me mother, how the hell my ex wife walked into that boardroom as their heir to one of the most powerful empires in the city and none of us knew." No one made a sound except from the bro

Camilla POVWhen my eyes met the crystal chandelier, it took me a minute to realize I was no longer in my house with Nathaniel and neither was I at my father's house. I was a married woman, again. And this was my room. I pulled on a silk robe over my pajamas and twisted my hair up loosely before heading downstairs. I smelled the brewing coffee before I reached wherever it was coming from. Taking the east corridor towards the main kitchen, I didn't particularly know my way around but I knew I could convince Clara or whosoever was preparing the coffee that I needed a cup to jumpstart my system as well. I climbed down the stairs but my hand was still resting on one of the pillars as I stopped moving abruptly as his figure came into view. Luca was standing at the island with his back towards where I stood. Shirtless. I registered several things in a short amount of time. The first was the sheer breadth of his shoulders. I understood how broad they were though his suits but under

Luca's POVThe text came at half past six. I was in my office, going through the Milano corp quarterly projections when my phone lit up with a contact I kept for exactly this kind of information. ‘he went in’ Those three words in the message were sufficient. I set my own down and rose up to put on my jacket, I had already told the driver to bring the car around. A bar.Of course. That was the thing about men like Nathaniel Hartford, predictable in her unpredictability, creatures of habit dressed in the costume of spontaneity. So of course he would be sulking in a bar. I had known Nathaniel when he was a boy. The kind of boy that was greatly treasured by his mother and was thought by her that she deserved everything he was getting. As I walked into the bar, the music was loud and the lights were blinding but I still spotted Nathaniel immediately, sitting in front of two finished bottles of vodka and one glass filled with it in a corner booth. The bartender looked up at me as