The Divorced Heiress Revenge Full Novel Novels & Stories

When I'd signed those divorce papers with bandaged hands. Nothing gets in the way of revenge. Nothing and no one. But my body refused to move. I stayed anchored to his side. Ray cleared his throat again, louder this time. His arms folded across his chest, gaze fixed on Anthony with barely concealed suspicion. "What exactly are you doing here, Mr. George?" "To see my fiancée, of course." Anthony winked at me. My heart lurched. I yanked myself out of his grip. Put space between us. Room to breathe without his cologne clouding my judgment. Room to think without his touch setting my skin on fire.

"Tomorrow is going to be perfect. You've worked too hard for it not to be." I nodded and followed him downstairs, acutely aware that he was watching me, studying my every move, looking for signs that I was hiding something. Which I was. But he didn't need to know that. Not yet. Tomorrow, everything would be different. Tomorrow, he would find out that the woman he had taken and claimed as his own was actually an heiress. That she was powerful in ways he had never even imagined. That she had been planning this the entire time. And I didn’t know how he was going to react or how I was going to face him after that.

She should have listened to their warnings, and she wanted to break down in front of them like a child, but her overwhelming guilt held her back. “It’s fine, I’ll be by your side.” Noah held her chin gently and made her look at him with a reassuring smile. Celene then found herself staring at his eyes as they held sincerity in them. “Also, don’t you want to get revenge on your ex-husband and mistress?” “If you do, the first thing you must do is reclaim your rightful position as heiress. Then, as a second step... You must marry me.” “What does marrying you have to do with revenge?” she asked, genuinely confused.

"We want a plan. We’re not just going to allow that asshole to stroll away from this unscathed." I blinked at her. "What do you suggest?" She grinned, and I should see that acquainted glint in her eye. Sasha cherished an amazing revenge plan. "I’m pronouncing, he’s no longer going to break out with this. You deserve better than being tossed apart like final season’s fashion. So we’re going to make sure that he regrets this." I frowned, my mind spinning from the alcohol and the emotional rollercoaster of the day. "I don’t realize, Sasha. I’m not sincerely in the mood for revenge."

"I can’t confirm it yet, miss. But there’s a strong possibility she’s there." Cassandra smiled faintly as Serena’s face formed in her mind. Revenge burned in her eyes. "You really are the best future father-in-law, Roland," she thought with a sharp little chuckle. "That woman must have run because you pressured her. What exactly did you do to her?" Shaking her head as if answering her own questions, Cassandra flicked her hair back and turned to leave. "I don’t really care what you did to her," she continued inwardly. "What matters is this, I won’t waste this chance. I’ll push her harder and harder, until she breaks and runs away on her own, just like Selena did!"

"I've been preparing to take back what they stole from me. My husband. My family. My life." I turned to face her fully, something shifting inside me like tectonic plates rearranging. "But that life was never worth fighting for. Stefan never loved me, not really. My parents never saw me, not clearly. Rose never considered me her sister, only an obstacle." I moved to the window overlooking Manhattan's glittering expanse. A view fitting for who I was becoming. Not Camille Lewis, forgotten daughter and discarded wife. But Camille Kane, heir to an empire, architect of vengeance.

She fisted an arm and raised it to her chest in a salute of success. "So we've got no time to lose, huh?" Momma muttered, narrowing her eyes. She turned and began walking with swift purpose down the hall, while the three girls—Serena, Zara, and Nova—fell into step behind her without a second thought. But I just stood there, rooted to the spot. The whirlwind of information, the casual revelation of a kidnapping they had orchestrated, and the sheer, focused lethality of it all left me stunned. I guess everyone was too busy enacting a complex, multi-layered revenge to even give the new girl a proper welcome.

Thiago kept silent. The clerk lowered his head and processed the divorce. Kira looked at her watch and said, “Please hurry up; I’ve got things to do.” “I see in the materials that you don’t have children. Are there any assets to be divided?” the clerk asked. Kira said, “No.” Thiago was silent. He originally wanted to give her some financial compensation, but she refused. Now she was the heiress of the Hamilton Group. The money he could give seemed more like an insult to her.

"Tonight proved it. He's drunk, alone, and broke. He bought a glass necklace for five million dollars. He fired his only loyal employee. He's doing a better job of ruining Lysander Thorne than we ever could." She pulled him closer. "Let him live," she whispered. "Let him live long enough to see us win. Let him live in a small apartment, watching us on the news, knowing that he threw away the architect of his empire." Cyprian watched her for a long moment. He saw the cold, strategic cruelty in her eyes—the same cruelty that had made her short the stock, the same cruelty that had made her switch the necklace. He smiled. It was a slow, dark, wicked thing.

“Mabel forged documents years ago. She had stolen millions. If Jordan is recognized as the rightful heir… everything collapses. Her entire empire. Her life.” Marcus cursed viciously under his breath. Damien’s fists clenched so tightly I heard his knuckles crack. “So this was never just revenge,” Damien said, his voice dangerously low. Victor nodded slowly. “It started as revenge. But now… it’s survival.” A long, suffocating silence followed. Then Victor reached painfully into the inside pocket of his torn jacket. Every guard in the room instantly raised their weapons, the metallic clicks echoing sharply.