My Heiress Novels & Stories

Yvette jumped up from the bed, shocked and confused. I locked eyes with her, and my tone was serious. “Answer me. Can you do it?” When she reluctantly nodded, I finally let out a sigh of relief. Yvette still looked bewildered. “Queenie, what are you planning?” I recalled the layout of the study and the strange things in the cabinet in my mind. Piece by piece, the final clue to this bizarre adoption puzzle clicked into place. “I know which one of us is the real Grant heiress…”

Mira had given me something for the pain—some kind of herbal mixture that took the edge off without quite making me useless—but it wore off as the day went on. By late afternoon, when we finally stopped to make camp, I felt like I'd been beaten and left in the road. "You're doing well," a voice said beside me. I looked up to find a girl settling down next to me. She was taller than me, with dark hair pulled back in a practical braid and eyes that suggested she'd seen more of the world than her age would suggest. Her left leg was bandaged heavily from ankle to knee. "I haven't heard much complaining," she continued, offering me a bowl of stew. "My name's Dovette, by the way. I was training to

He just stood there, staring at me across the crowded ballroom with an expression of complete devastation. The girl he'd thrown away, the wife he'd neglected and humiliated, the woman he'd told would never find anyone better, was Isabella Morrison. Granddaughter of Alexander Morrison. Heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country. One of the most powerful women in New York. And he'd let me go without a fight. The applause finally died down and I sat back down, accepting congratulations from the people at my table with grace and poise I'd learned from watching my brothers navigate society. But I was hyperaware of the Wei family table, of the chaos I knew was happening there.

“A billionaire's daughter?” “Almost there, try again.” This time, I get it right. “An heiress.” “Yes! That's right, flower girl. You're an heiress, which means you've thirty percent of the power that sugar daddy has, and do you know what that means!?” I shake my head tentatively, and Maisie divulges. “It means you control the mafia as much as he does. It means you can host a party. When I say a party, I mean a very hot, very sexy, very orgasmic party, and induct yourself as their heiress. It means you can…flirt around with the guys, do some exotic dance, and guess who'll be running to you in the next minute?”

"The louder she speaks, the harder she’ll fall when I cut the floor out from under her." The Grand Hotel ballroom was a cavern of Gilded Age excess, dripping with crystal chandeliers and the heavy perfume of the city’s elite. As Evelyn entered, the room didn't just go quiet; it froze. She was draped in a gown of midnight blue that seemed to swallow the light, her presence radiating a cold, magnetic authority that made the "disgraced heiress" label feel like a bad joke. Lucas was the first to approach, his face a mask of practiced regret. Beside him, Iris clung to his arm, her eyes darting around like a trapped animal. She looked frantic, her makeup a fraction too heavy to hide the exhaustion

From a distance, she looked like exactly what she was supposed to be: a poised billionaire heiress, draped in silk, her dark hair swept into an elegant twist. Up close, the illusion fractured. Her shoulders were tight. Her smile—when she offered it—was carefully rationed. And every few minutes, her gaze flicked instinctively toward the raised dais at the center of the room, where her stepmother presided like a queen over court. Margaux Laurent was radiant tonight. She always was. She wore crimson, the color of conquest, her blonde hair arranged perfectly, her laughter ringing loud enough to command attention. Executives clustered around her, men twice her age nodding eagerly as she gestured

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” Marcus laughed lowly. “Told you this wouldn’t last. A queen can’t lie about the heir and expect to keep her crown.” Silvia slammed the glass down. “Don’t mock me.” He shrugged. “Fine. So what now?” She was quiet for a moment, thinking. Her nails scratched gently at her wrist. “I know her… I’ve seen her before. That name… Alana Winters…” She said the name again, softly. “Alana Winters… Winters… It sounds so familiar. Why can’t I remember?”

If anything, the person who’s got something to loose if things go wrong is her, not me. As I walk toward the damn cruiser, the bag with my things in one hand, and her suitcase in the other, following her down the path like some lovesick puppy, I can’t stop thinking about what Maria said. I can’t stop thinking about those words, her suggestions, ever since she said them. I mean, I am not going to whore myself out for money, or for the idea of chasing the legal heiress out of her money, but damn it, it’s tempting. It’s tempting when I look at the way she walks, those long legs in those heels, the way her tanned skins glistens in the morning sunlight. Every step she takes, every move, is filled

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.

"Come on. With your size, you're going to be a bodyguard?" I teased her with a sly look. One laugh and a few words later, we arrived at the event. As soon as Brianna walked in, she quickly pulled me aside and whispered, "See that one over there? She's the heiress of Hackett Group, a multinational pharmaceutical company. If you can win her over, we'll secure the project for sure." Just then, an old acquaintance caught her eye. She immediately turned to greet them with a bright smile and muttered under her breath, "Go grab a bite. I'll come find you once I've handled this."