Novel & Cerita Fake Heiress, Real Trouble

“ Yes I know who she is….” “ No sweetie , you clearly don’t. You’re planning a mating ceremony with a stripper Kayden.” “ I said I know.” His face didn’t move. But something flickered in her eyes and he could see it. “ So you’re telling me you’re getting married to a fucking stripper huh ? Is that what it will take for you to love huh Kayden.” She said letting out a laugh of disbelief. “You don’t remember, do you?” Silvia said, voice low and venom laced. “I worked at that club too before you met her. I was the show. I had the money. The clients. The power. They called me the Queen of Smoke.”

she shrugged dismissively, and a fire ignited in my chest. Just sex? With my fiancé? In my pajamas? Her eyes glinted, “What's with that look?” Slowly, realization mixed with the mockery as she laughed “You bumpkin. Don't tell me you really think you're Lucas' future wife? That you can so easily forget what you really are!? What do you owe me?!” My teeth grated against each other. I didn’t need her to remind me. Vanessa Caldwell. To the public, we call each other sisters, but everyone in the circle knows what's going on. I'm a fake. She is the real one. The true heiress of the Caldwell family.

The video zoomed in on her face. Captioned: “Caught! Vale Heiress Fakes Pregnancy Scandal.” I sank into the nearest chair. The timing wasn’t just bad, it was planned A blow for a blow. A warning. And we were still in the middle of it.

This time, he didn’t even bother to respond. A few days later, an online mini-series titled “Love in the World of the Elite” suddenly went viral. The plot revolved around the heir of a real estate empire who was rescued from a car accident by a humble young woman. Love blossomed between the two. However, the female lead’s modest background made her an unfit match, and the male lead’s wealthy family vehemently opposed the relationship. After overcoming countless obstacles, the couple finally broke free of societal expectations and found their happily ever after.

*So she isn’t even the real thing and was running her mouth off at Leah, talk about hardcore fake* *I always thought that there was something weird with her, a gal ain’t allowed to be that pristine* *Nw, I feel kinda sorry for the mistress who had to lose her man to her* *I feel rather glad for the mistress. I mean, her bf was blind enough to choose the fake heiress over her. It is lyk karma’s dealing wth both wife and husband*

Without saying anything to them, I return to my room. No need to be remorseful over his sickness. I'll just pretend I don't know what is happening in the house. After all, I met with his lawyer yesterday when we visited the company and we had a long talk. The lawyer told me he'll do anything he could to see that my name appears as the heiress to the wealthy Grandpa will leave behind. And I trust his words. Knock! A knock came on the door, interrupting my beautiful thought. Who is that disturbing?

But the burn didn’t ease the knot in his chest. The news flashed on TV. “In breaking news, the missing Hartman heiress has been found alive after twenty-three years…” Adrian froze. The screen showed Evelyn stepping from a black car, surrounded by cameras. “She’s the missing Hartman heiress,” he whispered. Charlotte paled. “That’s impossible.” Adrian barely heard her. Every cruel word he’d thrown at Evelyn echoed in his head. He’d called her a gold digger, said she didn’t belong. Now she was the richest woman in New York.

Not because there was nothing to say but because everything we could say was too large to fit into words yet. I stared out the oval window, watching darkness swallow the wing, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. Her hair was tangled, her eyes too sharp, too awake. There were faint scratches along her collarbone and wrist—souvenirs from a rooftop where the truth finally stopped hiding. I wasn’t the Hidden Heiress anymore. I wasn’t the substitute. I was the girl whose grandfather had signed her death warrant before she was old enough to understand what betrayal looked like.

Not when you have enemies with unfinished business. --- I walked into our penthouse office to find Danielle pacing with her phone in hand. “Everything okay?” I asked. She didn’t answer right away, but when she looked up, I saw it — the barely concealed panic beneath her usually composed exterior. “You’re going to want to see this,” she muttered. She handed me her phone. A social media post. It was from a gossip site known for its anonymous tips. “The fairytale might be ending. Rumor has it, a certain newlywed heiress is hiding a scandal bigger than anyone saw coming. Her past? Not so squeaky clean after all.”

"I'll get your usual caramel latte with extra whip, right?" I smiled, she remembered. "Yeah." Natalie hurried off, returning minutes later with my drink and a giant blueberry muffin. "On the house," she said, plopping into the chair across from me. "Now SPILL. How does a billionaire heiress end up working a normal job and hiding her identity?" I took a sip of the latte perfect, as always before sighing. "Long story." "We've got time," Natalie said, propping her chin on her hands.