Fake Heiress Novels & Stories

I wanted to call out for help, but a part of me suspected I might be kidnapped, and alerting whoever was holding me might not be the best idea. I slipped on my slippers and stood up, feeling a bit dizzy. My head throbbed, but I managed to move forward. I gripped my hairpin tightly, using it as a makeshift defense. As I stepped out of the room, I took in the grandeur of the mansion. It was huge, even bigger than mine, and beautifully decorated. The walls were painted white, and the hallway was adorned with various art pieces. The opulence suggested that my kidnapper was wealthy, which made me wonder what their motives were because it was clear that they don't need money from me.

Outside the grand hall, the online world was on fire. T*****r, TikTok, F******k, Instagram—every major social media platform was flooded with videos, photos, and posts about the mysterious yet powerful heiress, Jenna Anderson. One trending post read, #JennaTheHeiressUnveiled, showing a side-by-side picture of her elegant appearance at the gala and an old candid photo from her days as the humble Mrs. Hidalgo. "I can't believe Rex Hidalgo let go of this queen!" one user wrote on X (formerly T*****r).

Then he exclaimed, “Fifty million going once? Fifty million going twice, fifty million going thrice!- Congratulations! This pretty lady in a silver dress will now be the possessor of this set of jewelry.” Many people had joined the bidding, but only one winner emerged. No one could believe their eyes or ears, especially Lucas Harrison and the girl sitting beside him who looked ghastly pale. “No way! She can't afford that money.” “But she just did! Who exactly is she?” “Oh, she's Heidi. Heidi Olsen. How could they think that they could contend with the wealthiest heiress in Phoenix City?” The man who spoke was the same middle-aged man who just uncovered Heidi's identity.

"You want me to pretend to be you." "For one night. One gala. You smile, you stand next to him, you let people take pictures, and tomorrow I'm back and none of this ever happened." Isabella's hands were shaking slightly, and she pressed them flat against her thighs as if she could will them still. "We look enough alike. We always have, nobody’s going to be looking that closely at a fiancée they've met twice." "Why can't you do it yourself, Isabella. The real question. Not the gala — why can't you be in a room tonight."

He said. "I've been working my butt off for everyone all my life" "And It's time for me to step down and enjoy the rest of my life" I was so shocked. Don't tell me. "It's time to introduce the new successor of Madden Group of Hospitals and Madden Realty Group" No way. Not yet. "Let me introduce to you, my one and only heiress, the reason for all of my hard work. Soline Madden" My mouth dropped. I want to throw tantrums at dad but everyone is looking at me including the men I slept with.

I asked Sebastian, not looking up. “The heiress,” he said. “Officially.” “Officially,” I repeated. “No interviews about her.” That bothered me more than resistance ever could. I searched for her name yet again. Vanderbilt heiress. Alessandra Vanderbilt. The results were thin. A Wikipedia page. A family tree. Her name is listed without a hyperlink. I clicked it, and nothing happened, even though I had done this several times. I leaned back, lips pressing into a thin smile that didn’t reach anywhere else.

The world had fallen in love with an illusion. By morning, every glossy magazine and online feature carried their faces, Hazel Castell and Dimitri Moretti, the empire couple. Her photo from last night’ s luxury dinner event, a faint smile, eyes of cold fire, was captioned “The Heiress Who Never Falters.” He was cropped from an older interview: the charming heir who had everything, and now, apparently, everyone’s dream fiancée. Hazel read it without emotion. Her breakfast, black coffee, and one slice of toast remained untouched on the tray beside her. She leaned against the glass wall of her suite, phone in hand, reading headline after headline.

Does he know that? "N-No...anyways you knew her! Younger than your age but...she's...fine," his tone get slower and slower. "What's her name?" I asked and raised a brow. His eyes lit up like it was a sign that I also likes his idea. "She's the heiress of the Hepburn Communications! Millicent Jaiyana Hepburn! Do you remember her? It's Millijay!" He said exaggeratedly.

"No, of course, not! Why would you even think of that? I'm only here for business, babe. She's the heiress of the Ash & Glamour Group, Clarissa Moore." My eyes widened in horror, as the name sink into my head. "What?!!"

Luckily, she wasn’t there to be involved in any matter, thanks to Antony’s interruption, of course. Crystal could clearly recognize the maidens left in this round. Lylia Evergreen, heiress of a famous magazine printing company. Nothing too special but, at least her character seemed clean from what Crystal has observed. Denise Imperial, heiress of a vast chain of restaurants in the country. Same with Lylia, her character holds no mischief. Mylene Haravina, daughter of a famous fashion designer that is widely known across countries. This one was shy based from Crystal’s observation.