Is 'Hiding My Noss Heires' A Metaphor In The Novel?

Preview:“Pin her to the ground. Dom, you keep those damn legs down.” Dante coughed as he stood up to regain himself. They wanted a weapon. They created a queen. Novalee Ashford had a simple life-a job she tolerated, a husband she adored, a future she believed in. Then Dante Santoro decided she was his. Ripped from everything she knew, Novalee is thrust into a world of violence, cruelty, and impossible choices. The Santoro family doesn't just want to own her body-they want to remake her soul. Under their brutal tutelage, she transforms from victim to weapon, from captive to bride. But Novalee has a secret: she remembers who she was. And she's planning something they never expected. Vengeance. With Atlas-the guard who was supposed to keep her caged-as her unlikely ally, Novalee plays the deadliest game of her life. Every smile hides a blade. Every submission masks rebellion. Every moment brings her closer to the reckoning they deserve. They wanted to create a monster. They succeeded. Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir is a dark romance containing mature themes and graphic content. Reader discretion is strongly advised. ****WARNINGS**** Explicit sexual assault/rape Non-consensual sexual situations Explicit consensual sexual content Sexual degradation and humiliation Forced sexual performance Violence: Graphic murder Torture Domestic violence and abuse Blood and gore Beatings and physical assault Captivity & Control: Kidnapping and imprisonment Human trafficking elements Forced marriage Psychological manipulation and gaslighting Conditioning and breaking Loss of autonomy Trauma & Loss: Pregnancy loss Forced hysterectomy Suicide Grief and mourning PTSD symptoms Other: Forced drug administration Starvation/food control Sleep deprivation Isolation Death of spouse

From knowing nothing to knowing something. That one secret that my father kept turned my world around. I wonder where everything started? After meeting HADES. They became my happiness and family. (Moved to The Heir: Back To The Beginning One day my dad revealed to me that he was a mafia leader. He hid his identity away from so that I wouldn’t be in danger. However, my dad couldn’t keep the secret any longer as I got into danger. He had no choice but to let me live under the same roof as HADES. Yes, a group trained by my father to protect me. Not to mention they were all guys. To my sister in heaven. I never knew you went under such pressure in your life. But I hope that you’re doing well up there. I miss you. Even if I don’t have memories of us being together. One day my dad revealed to me that he was a mafia leader. He hid his identity away from so that I wouldn’t be in danger. However, my dad couldn’t keep the secret any longer as I got into danger. He had no choice but to let me live under the same roof as HADES. Yes, a group trained by my father to protect me. Not to mention they were all guys. To my sister in heaven. I never knew you went under such pressure in your life. But I hope that you’re doing well up there. I miss you. Even if I don’t have memories of us being together.

Bad news: I'm dead. Good news: I transmigrated into a novel. Bad news: I end up in a peasant woman's womb, and I'm about to be born as a fake heir. Good news: My little sister, claiming that it's better to be safe than sorry because the novel's main character shares my name, has forced me to read this novel cover to cover. I already know that once the real heir, Isaac Reed, comes home, he'll use our parents' guilt toward him to set me up. He'll frame me at a family acknowledgment banquet, making it look like I've taken liberties with the family's precious only daughter, Kiana Reed. My adoptive parents will be so furious that they'll disown me and kick me out of the house. In the end, I'll die miserably in an alley on a rainy night. So, the year I turn five, I empty out my savings to hire a young beggar to show up at our door, claiming he's the real heir. When I'm eight, the second beggar enters the stage. When I'm ten, the third one arrives. By the time I'm 15, the manor is packed with eight so-called real heirs. These people in ancient times don't know that their supposedly reliable methods of testing kinship can be tampered with. All they know is that all eight boys seem to share blood ties with my adoptive parents, the Marquis and Marchioness of Eterna. I play it off as a miracle from the heavens. Then, when I'm 16, the real heir returns.

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

Yvette and I fought over who was the real heiress for two lifetimes. In my first life, my parents were convinced I was their true daughter. They coaxed me into going to the hospital for a blood test. However, when I woke up in the ward, weak from blood loss, I saw their faces twisted with hatred as they strangled me. “You fake! Just die!” “You’re not our child at all!” I could not fight back. In agony, I took my last breath. In my second life, I was certain Yvette was the real heiress. I pretended to be sick to avoid my parents. Still, I saw the news a few days later—Yvette’s body had been found in the wilderness, drained to a husk. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn for the second time. Yvette was shaken with fear, while I was dragging my suitcase. Both of us were staring at each other. I looked at her and smiled. “How about we run away together?”

One year after I was confirmed to be a fake heir, all my friends said I was like a completely different person. I was no longer spoiled or entitled. I no longer desperately sought even a passing glance from my parents. And I no longer exhausted myself trying every possible way to win Jane Fraser's love. The harsh reality of financial hardship left me running ragged every day. It also made me understand, with painful clarity, that affection and romance were the most useless things in this world. As they wished, I stopped fighting. I stopped competing for anything at all. Later, when Jane brought the real heir back home, I simply went quietly to the guest room and waited in silence, ready to give up everything that once belonged to me. But those who had long wanted me to be obedient and well-behaved were suddenly driven mad. They asked me, over and over, why I had stopped fighting back.