Outcast? The Heiress Outshone Them All Novels & Stories

Big time. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "You're an heiress to one of the most powerful companies in Canada," he said, his tone shaking with frustration. "Do you even realize who you are? This life you’re living, it isn’t worth it. You don’t have to put up with him. You don’t owe him anything."

"She’s intelligent. Dangerously intelligent. She played the long game before she ever revealed her true name." ​For the first time since the crisis began, Richard Blackwood felt a thrill. ​"I’ve spent my entire life crushing spoiled, entitled heirs," he soliloquized, walking back to the window. "They inherit billions, they get lazy, and they make predictable mistakes. But this one... she built an armor before she ever stepped onto the battlefield. I like that." ​The board members exchanged uneasy glances. With Richard, a compliment was merely the prologue to an execution.

But it was a plan that involved doing something other than sitting around waiting to die, and in that moment, that was enough. We left the city two days later, through a small gate on the northwest side. There were seven of us—Solace, Dovette, me, Vex, two soldiers from the city guard named Kess and Finn, and a woman named Lyssa who claimed to have grown up in the foothills and knew the terrain. The moment we left the city and lost the protection of the wards, I felt it—that psychic pressure that had haunted my dreams, that feeling of the Scourge's presence pressing against the edges of my mind.

"You grew up inside all of this. I grew up outside it, it’s easier to risk a life you never fully trusted was yours to begin with." Sebastian, driving, said nothing, but Wren saw his hand tighten briefly on the wheel, the particular stillness of a man absorbing something he hadn't fully considered before — the different weights the two sisters had carried into this same inheritance, one raised inside the wealth that had been built on their great-grandfather's ruin, the other raised entirely outside it, each of them paying a different price for the same buried theft.

My voice trails, heat creeping up my neck. "It's fine," he grumbles behind me. "You might want to put on some clothes." "I'm not naked, heiress. I have my pants on." I hear amusement in his voice. He may as well be naked with how scandalous his bare chest looks. I clear my throat and turn around slowly. It takes all my strength to not let my eyes travel down his impressive physique. "I thought you might need an ointment for your bruises." I hold up the ointment. There is no way I'm going to close the gap between us while he is like this.

she said. "Yup," I replied. "She's an heiress. And it turned out that she looks exactly like me." "Omigosh, really?" she exclaimed with wide eyes. "Yeah…" I said. "One thing led to another, and now I have to be Isabella Domitia while she runs off to happily ever after with her boyfriend." 'Actually, I doubt it's going to be happily ever after,' I thought, thinking of how untrustworthy Elijah was. "But that's where it gets crazy," I added.

Eynas assisted his queen in her seat. Astra put her face to his face. She looked at him and smiled. "I'm fine" she mumbled and turned her redhead in front of her broods. "Let's welcome, the first heiress of the Erasmus Kingdom!" She growls. "And I declare war among dragons and humans! We will restore our dragon power, the Heart of Magic from them! Scream for me! Scream!" Astra made an extreme growl and all of them made a rumbling sound.

“It will be a spine-tingling experience to step into her shoes and experience a day. Despite the criticism of her being an unfortunate heiress, many denounced her as an undeserving heiress, but she continually shirked the naysayers and emerged as the most resilient heiress!” Veronica gazed at the last slide on the screen before its end and the thunderous clapping filled the banquet. Her gaze shifted around the room, eventually halting on Chase, who snuggled up in Makeba’s lap, beaming a Cheshire cat-like grin and applauding for her. Aries was desperate to behold her smile as it used to be. However, he couldn’t witness even the faintest trace of it on her face. Christian helped Veronica to st

He looked like a storybook prince—Adrien from Miraculous, perhaps—if that prince had been forced into a black button-down suit. “That’s true,” He whispered. I was trying my hardest to ignore the impossible words I had overheard through the door. Heiress. Stolen. Dead. It had to be a misunderstanding. It was a coincidence of features, a trick of the light. I was Ophelia Vitale, the girl from the orphanage. We climbed a grand, sweeping staircase and reached a set of towering double doors made of dark, intricately carved mahogany. Eugene pushed them open, and we stepped into a room that felt more like a sanctuary than a study. Upon entering, my breath hitched.

"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.