I Bore His Heirs Then I Vanished Novels & Stories

My face is probably red. — Ok, ok, got it. Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. I am Vanilla, daughter of William Gords, the king's scribe. I'm going to war in my Father's place because of his health problems and the lack of a wife and children. I'm sorry for being Rude. Your names are? — She proclaimed herself, this time looking at us and extending her hand. As soon as she finished speaking, the younger brother took Vanilla's hand as if it were made of porcelain and then kissed it.

Edward POV The echo of the door slamming shut still rang in my ears. I stood there, frozen in place, the living room drenched in a suffocating silence that felt far louder than any scream. Vanessa was gone—again. And this time, I wasn’t sure if she’d come back. My hands dropped to my sides, fists clenching until my knuckles turned white. I could still hear Jules’s voice, cold and precise: “She’ll never be a Silver. And Alessa’s child will be the true heir.”

“Please. I need to know she’ll be okay.” After a moment, they nodded, and I climbed into the back, sitting quietly in the corner. As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, I kept my eyes on her. There was something about her—a deep sadness, a kind of pain that went beyond the bruises. It stirred something in me, something I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t know her name or her story, but I knew one thing: I couldn’t just leave her. Eugene’s POV

That if a pregnancy should occur, the heir must be biologically of Hernandez blood, or else… I don’t even finish the line. Instead, I pull out a lighter from my coat pocket. Mama Rita shifts in her seat. “Sir?” I flick it. The flame dances gently. The paper edges curl almost instantly. I hold it over the ashtray and watch the words blacken. Crackle. Shrivel into smoke. The very last page of the will burns away. My father’s final hold over my future… crumbling to dust. Gone. “You don’t own me anymore,” I whisper to no one in particular.

In an instant, the Heir was thrown backward, slamming into the mud. “Then remember this,” Evelyn said coldly. “I didn’t survive the crown to lose it to my own ghost.” But even as she spoke, the Heir began to rise again, her wounds closing with unnatural speed. She laughed, a low, chilling sound. “You can’t kill what you cast away, Evelyn. You can’t destroy me without destroying yourself.” And with that, the Black Heir vanished into smoke, her army retreating like shadows at dusk. Kael reached her seconds later, his sword drawn. “What happened? Where did she go?”

vanished. The door to my condo was locked with a new security code I hadn’t set. I was being erased. By sunset, I sat alone in a rooftop garden, the wind biting at my skin, my heart aching like it hadn’t since the day my mother disappeared years ago. Edward, Elise, and The Board. The damned legacy. I could still hear Jeffery’s voice in my head: “I’ll fix this. I’ll bring you back.” But how? Everything was slipping.

“Touching. Now, where do we go from here?” Adrian doesn’t answer. His father walks in, holding a glass of bourbon. “The board has seen the results.” My heart jumps. “What do you mean?” He turns to Adrian. “The heir is real. But the mother isn’t your wife.” Adrian nods slowly. “I know.” “That child is the key to our legacy.” I move to speak, but he raises a hand. “Eliana, you are no longer welcome here. The contract was with Eliora. You were a ghost in her dress.”

I managed to ask. “I saw the messages about a year ago,” she interrupted, “And just in case you were hoping I’d let it slide… I destroyed it. Every last sample. No heir. No chance. And the company? Well…” Her voice dropped to a low, “It will slip from your grasp, too.” I staggered back, trying to process her words. My carefully constructed plan, the only hope that I might have an heir, now shattered. “You… what? How…?”

After all, even though I had always been obedient and gentle, I had zero tolerance when it came to betrayal. “Yvonne, do you really understand?” I nodded, curling my lips into a bitter smile. “Zayn, we both have to think of the family. I understand you need an heir. After all, the Levine mafia empire is vast. Someone has to inherit it. “If you think it would be easier, you can bring Whitney home so that she’s cared for. That way, I’ll feel reassured too.” Joy spread across his face when I said those words. He let out a long sigh of relief.

Just a play button, waiting. He hit it. Victor filled the frame: unburned, pristine, sitting in the concrete room we’d escaped hours ago. The timer behind him read 00:00:00. “Hello again, family,” he said, his voice velvet-smooth, laced with that mocking affection that made my skin crawl. “If you’re watching this, the house is gone. Good. Less to clean up.” He leaned closer, his eyes black pools, reflecting nothing. “The Heartstone isn’t a relic. It’s a seed. Planted in your blood the moment Javier died. Every one of you carries a fragment. Elena most of all.”