Novel & Cerita My Heiress

“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.

"No, e. I just saw it now." "She's a daughter of a famous tycoon and a former actress. Unica hija is therefore the only heir. Graduated with latin honors in Ateneo. My cousin proposed to her but didn't answer. She said she already likes someone," he continued. I have no interest in the speaker's personal life. "He mentioned a name there in the magazine, e. I just forgot." It was a pain in the ass. I could barely understand what the speaker was saying because Harry was speaking next to me. If I only knew he's still that talkative, I should have avoided him.

He didn't look homeless, and one can tell from one glance that he is well-read. The truth is I was not finding any of his questions funny as I felt miserable and pained from all the embarrassment I had earlier encountered. I pulled down my shirt for him to see out of annoyance. “Here it is sir, it is a fucking birthmark and I hate it, I will gladly give you if you want it," I said in frustration. “I'm so sorry to bother you my lady, but I happen to come from London, and this mark of yours is a mark that is mostly associated with the royal family, I think if that mark is real, that you may be a princess,” he said, looking surprised at his own words.

She had stood on that stage and revealed herself as Hazel Saint Claire, CEO of E&H Investments, and I had stood there like a fool, my mouth hanging open, unable to process what I was seeing. Hazel Saint Claire. Not Hazel Rossi. Not some woman trying to build a small restaurant. Hazel Saint Claire. Billionaire heiress. CEO of a global company. Granddaughter of Margaret Sinclair. And she hadn't told me. All those months together. All those nights when I had asked her what was wrong and she had lied to my face. All those moments when she could have trusted me, could have told me the truth, and instead she had kept it locked away like I was someone she couldn't rely on.

I said as I sat back down and tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Forget the investors you already have and start thinking about the one who just landed back in the country, because word is that the Great Thorne Heiress—the real one, the one with the trust fund that hasn't been touched in three years—is looking for a new project to dump her excess capital into," Beatrice said, and I felt a sudden jolt of electricity run through my chest that made me sit up straight.

It was almost 12:00 am She saved the document and closed it, feeling a small sense of satisfaction. Then, instead of shutting the laptop completely, she clicked around absentmindedly. Old files. Archived links. Things she hadn’t looked at in a long time. That was when she saw it. An old headline, saved in a forgotten folder. She clicked. The article loaded, and she laughed under her breath almost immediately. WILFRED HEIRESS CAUSES STIR AT RACING EVENT — Sources Say Billionaire’s Daughter ‘Unapologetically Reckless’

She was back as the Billionaire Hale heiress, the ice queen, Elara Hale. Nobody outside her family and friends knew her real name. All they knew was that the ice queen Hale heiress goes by E.H, a name that everyone spoke from fear and respect. Her name was carved with reverence yet fear both in the hearts of every executive from Canary Wharf to Wall Street of London.

“We’re in our house, in our goddamn living room.” “In your house?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t yours anymore. None of this is. It belongs to her now. To Hailey Vale, the stripper heiress who just hosted a softcore orgy in our ancestral estate and made the cover of three tabloids.” She flung a rolled-up paper across the room. It slid to a stop in front of Marcus. “STRIPPING HEIRESS CLAIMS THE LACHLAN THRONE.

As if it were a fairy tale, the wind played with Helen's hair, while she walked along the extensive paths of her grand mansion, without a single care, and until that moment, not a single suffering. The perfect life for any innocent woman who only believed in the purity of love. Helen, heiress to one of the largest fortunes in the country, is the protagonist of this enchanted tale. Society magazines praised her grace and elegance, while her wealth made her the object of desire for many.

I'm an Alpha, an heiress, and a well-brought-up lady. "A heiress indeed. A heiress without a land or pack. And - if you are well brought up as you claimed, how come you rushed at my manhood the moment you had the chance?" "I don't have a choice. " "Nobody put knives to your throat." "Yes, but things were more complicated than they appeared to you."