Alle Kapitel von The Real Heiress Return : Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 10

I knew things wouldn't end there. A girl like Tiffany Weston doesn't cry and give up. She cries to reload. She will definitely plot something new to make my parents hate me. And she didn't even wait 24 hours. The room that should’ve been mine was now a walk-in closet for her and I the real one, was sent to the east side,a small bedroom, with no decorations. No vanity, no walk-in closet. “The Weston family sure knows how to welcome their real daughter” I said sarcastically. The room she claimed, she decorated was this? Tiffany was the first to speak. “Sister if you don’t like the room I’ll give you mine, it’s just_ just that my things are much and it’ll take time why don’t you stay here for now I’ll tell mom and dad to decorate another room according to your taste how about” She said like she was being considerate. But I knew she was telling me she owns the place. I smiled. And said nothing. I wanted to see what she’ll do next. When I didn’t respond she hugged my

I was definitely not going to let Tiffany walk all over me. I walked into my room — _my_ room, the one i emptied while Tiffany was crying downstairs — and locked the door. The marble bathroom, the walk-in closet, the view of the Weston gardens... all beautiful. All cold. My hands were shaking. Not because I was scared of Tiffany. Because for the first time tonight, when my own mother hugged her and not me, it actually hurt. I sat on the floor, back against the bed that was supposed to be mine since I was 4, and called my adopted parents. They picked immediately. Like they were waiting for me all along. "Mom, Dad," I called. "Veronica? Baby?" My mom's voice — not Margaret Weston, but Sophia Laurent. My Mom. The one who found me at age four wandering outside her boutique, who took me in, who gave me everything. "Have you been good lately? Are they treating you well over there? Did you eat? Did that fake sister try anything? Your father has been staring at his phone for two hours w

The night of the gala. The Weston Estate had been turned into a palace. Crystal chandeliers, 300 guests, cameras, champagne towers, every rich family in the city. And in the center, like a queen on a cake — Tiffany. Red dress. Diamond choker that was supposed to be mine. Hair curled perfect. She stood next to my biological parents, Margaret and Robert, smiling, waving, touching every wife's hand. "Thank you for coming! Yes, I'm so excited for tonight's announcement!" She kept looking at the entrance, waiting for Ace. My parents kept looking at the stairs, waiting for me. Margaret had sent three maids to tell me to wear the blue dress Tiffany picked. I had locked my door. Ethan texted me: _Where are you? Tiffany told everyone you're too scared to come down because you have no manners for a gala._ I smiled. Typed back: _Tell them to dim the lights._ Downstairs, the host tapped his glass. "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Weston 20th Annual Charity Gala! Tonight is extra sp

Even I laughed at that. Watching Tiffany cry in her red dress while the whole ballroom clapped for me — I laughed. Inside. A cold, quiet laugh. I was just getting started. Since they favored her over me — my own biological parents who hugged her when I showed them her diary, who tried to give my fiancé to her, who told me "don't take it to heart" — since they favored her, I will take everything. And drive them to desperation. The dance with Ace ended. He didn't let go of my hand. "Veronica," my mother Margaret came rushing, finally, with open arms. "My daughter—" I stepped back. "Don't," I said. "You had your chance to hug me this morning. You hugged her instead. You don't get to hug the winner now." Margaret's eyes filled with tears. Real ones this time. Robert looked away, ashamed. "Veronica, we—" "No. Save it for tomorrow's newspapers." I turned to the host and took his mic one last time. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Tonight was supposed to b

Monday came faster than I expected.I opened my eyes, yawned, and stretched my bones lazily before dragging myself into the bathroom to wash up.By the time I picked up my phone, there were 50 missed calls from my parents and a dozen messages.I was added to the family group chat, the chat that had no place for me before, I was now part of. I didn't answer any of them. I didn't reply to a single message. I just tossed the phone on the bed and put on a white Laurent suit — not a dress. A suit. Sharp blazer, tailored pants, hair tied back. The same suit my adopted mother Sophia wore when she took over her first company at twenty three.My adopted father, Julian, was already in the dining room with lawyers. Five of them."Morning, princess," he said, sliding a cup of coffee toward me. "Weston Enterprises board meeting is at 9 AM. You own 51%. You can fire them all if you want.""I don't want to fire them, not now I said, taking a sip. "I want them to watch me take over the company they