All Chapters of The Heiress No One Recognized: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The returned Heir “Excuse me. I need to take this,” Alastair said, and stepped out, leaving Miaelle to her delicious meal. “Yes, father.” “Alastair can’t you just call me dad, father — so formal all the time.” He chuckled. “How are you doing, son? You left rather early yesterday.” “I am well, father. Yes — I had an urgent matter to attend to.” “Alright. Well, the arrangements for your marriage are still in place. The engagement won’t change much.” “Engagement?” “Why, yes. She got engaged to that Gabriell Keller last night, but your standing is far above his, and given your history, I doubt it’ll matter once she knows who you actually are.” “Hold on. What do you mean, engaged?” “Son, it’s all over the news. He proposed at the banquet. How do you not know this — perhaps it happened after you left.” Something cold settled in his chest. “Father… I don’t wish to go through with it.” “And why not? I thought she was who you wanted all this time. That’s precisely why I kept the ar

The misplaced Heiress Miaelle returned to her place after exchanging contacts with Alastair. They’d agreed to meet again within the week — some time for each of them to put their affairs in order, and, perhaps, to create a little space in each other’s lives before the rest of it began. Sat in the back of the cab, she opened Gabriell’s chat. Empty, save for the texts from before the banquet. He hadn’t called to check whether she was alright. Hadn’t texted, either. Not one word, in either direction, since she’d fled into the storm. She switched to Mia’s instead — over fifty messages waiting, unread, unanswered. Miaelle sighed and closed it without reading a single one. Then, because some part of her apparently hadn’t finished being cruel to herself, she opened I*******m. There it was. Mia’s posts from the engagement, glossy and curated, and beneath them, Gabriell’s comments — loving, adoring, the kind of public devotion he’d never once managed for her in four years. She swallowed the

The misplaced Heiress Sylas cleared his throat from the sofa arm. “For what it’s worth, Auntie, I’ve never seen her look at anyone the way she looked just now, saying his name.”“I did not look at anything.” “Girl. I have known you your entire life. Be serious.”“I am being serious and I know me just fine. I did not look anything.”“You absolutely did.””Did not!” “Definitely did too.” He said smugly.“Sylaaaas.” “Lysandraaaa.” “Mom…” “Auntie…” “Ughhh Sylas!”“I’m only saying what I saw.” He held up both hands, entirely unrepentant which in turn had Miaelle pouting. Her mother’s mouth twitched. “As I was saying, whatever he’s after, bring him here. Let me look him in the eye before I decide whether to trust him with my daughter’s company, her name,” she winks towards Sylas “and apparently now her heart.”“He doesn’t know about any of that yet,” Miaelle sulks quietly. “The companies anything really about who I really am.”“Then perhaps,” her mother said, tucking the certificate

The returned HeirElliot dropped Alastair back at his apartment and went off on his merry way to make his scheduled morning tea time with Alaric.“Welcome home, sir.”Alastair stepped through the front door and glanced at Mr. Ahmed.“Did you miss me?”“Terribly, sire.” Alastair gave him a look. “But, I’m sure mister Chauncey missed you more.” Just in time the dog came hurtling towards its owner. “I’m touched.” “I thought you might be.”Alastair strolled into his living room and dropped onto the sofa. His thoughts came flooding in like a tide that had been waiting all morning for him to finally be alone. It was signed, done and dusted. The proof was there. The absurdity of it might have amused him under different circumstances but as it was, he was bound, by contract, to the woman whose family was responsible for his mother’s death.And it no longer mattered whether she was the woman he’d once loved so fiercely or not. Everything had changed the moment the intel reached him — that h

The dark Duke“And why, precisely, would you think I’d invent a dog?” Alastair asked from behind the kitchen counter, looking altogether too pleased with himself as he lifted a mug of black coffee to his lips.“Indeed, Meadows. Why would he?” Laird’s gaze drifted briefly to Hero before he crouched beside Chauncey, letting his fingers work behind the dog’s ears while his mind kept working elsewhere.Hero looked around the apartment, taking in the space with exaggerated interest. “Wow. I love what you’ve done with the place.” And then he collapsed face-first onto the sofa like a man returning from a war he’d personally lost, one arm flung over his eyes before a single one cracked open toward the kitchen.Alastair’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Thank you. And you, Laird?”Laird straightened slowly, his gaze making an unhurried sweep of the room.The apartment was considerably warmer than he would have expected of Alastair. Too much colour and life. It lacked the cold, polished severity he ha