Glamorous Heiress Novels & Stories

“Do you really have to go? Why?” Heaving a sigh, Steffy looked at her sincerely. “I can’t explain everything but the truth is, I am an heiress, and I have responsibilities. And one of these responsibilities is—it’s all that I can say to you, Marie Joyce. You really shouldn’t be involved.” “You are an heiress? What does that mean?” Marie pressed on. “I can’t really tell you.” Marie felt her chest tightening and her stomach flipping. ‘Of course, you won’t tell.’ She sank to her chair while she unmindfully tugged and twisted the tips of her curls.

She must be a princess, like a spoilt rich daughter. I have to admit; the place is amazing and stunningly decorated. Also, have space for people to take rest and move freely. It was a cozy setting for them. “I have heard the heiress of E Shine is particularly beautiful!” Lisa exclaimed beside me. Excited because of no reason. “And talented, too,” she added. “I hope we can meet personally and continue our plan...” Camilla started speaking, and both of them started talking about some shit that I didn’t understand nor was interested in.

With all courage I gently said, "I am Celestine Duke, the Heiress of Vamparia, please let me enter the heart of the palace." Sweat was dropping on the floor where I was standing, and the door unexpectedly opened after a few seconds, giving me shivers. The light that comes from the room has blinded my eye, and I'm reawakening my expectations, hoping that this time I won't be disappointed, and would receive a gift.

Lyn handed her some papers, “your grandfather asked me to hide your identity as the heiress. Only me and the assistant manager knew.” ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

The rest had barricaded themselves in one of the lower towers and waited for rescue that never came. There were three of them left alive. Two women and a man, all bearing the marks of the attack—burn scars, wounds that had been hastily treated and were starting to show signs of infection. Their eyes were hollow in a way that suggested they'd witnessed things that human minds weren't supposed to see. The older woman's name was Captain Solace. She had close-cropped gray hair and a bearing that suggested she'd spent her entire life trying to hold things together. Even now, even in this catastrophe, she was trying.

Just by discussing amongst themselves, my fate was already sealed. No one bothered to care about any input that I had. I was a girl by myself, after all, and there was no way I could go against the nine of them. So they naturally took my coins by force. Anna pouted and sweet-talked her mother into contributing another five gold coins, allowing her to purchase the Sea Maiden's Dress. "Wow, this dress is so comfortable! It's so cool and form-fitting that it feels like it's part of my own skin!" Anna exclaimed happily.

I pushed the door open, and the noise inside the room came to an abrupt halt. Seeing my pale face, Claire Musk looked annoyed. "So what if I didn't give you thirty dollars? Who are you trying to scare with that expression, like you're attending a funeral? You're just like those gold-diggers—reeking of greed and utterly vulgar!" Hearing these insults with my own ears, I felt nothing at all. Not anger. Not sorrow. Not even disappointment. When Claire walked toward me, I calmly took a step back—avoiding the nauseating scent clinging to her, a mixture that clearly belonged to another man.

Vanessa followed shortly after. Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Vanessa smirked. “Isabella, aren’t you afraid? Digging up other people’s dirt like this… what happens when yours comes out?” Isabella’s eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing within them. She turned, voice indifferent. “Who doesn’t have secrets in this industry? You included… Miss Hartley.” She deliberately emphasized the surname. Then, as if recalling something, she added lightly— “Speaking of which… doesn’t the title ‘mistress pretending to be a rich heiress’ suit you quite well? Saves me the trouble of coming up with a headline when I expose you.”

She is wearing a soft grey dress and her hair is loose and she looks like a person who slept in her own space and woke up in a room that had been arranged by someone who thought about what she might need. She stops when she sees Damien. "Elena," I say. "This is Damien Cross. He's my head of security and my oldest friend." She looks at him steadily, she is not performing comfort she doesn't feel, which I have noticed is a characteristic of hers. She presents herself accurately. "I remember you," she says. "You were always near Lucien at family events. You watched me." Damien's expression registers something that might be mild surprise. "I did."