The Divorced Heiress's Hidden Identities Novels & Stories

After washing the clothes, she carefully hung them to dry, then checked the time. 5:40 PM. He should be home soon. She walked downstairs and began preparing dinner: steak, Red wine, Candles, Soft lighting. Everything was arranged with meticulous care. At the center of the table sat a velvet box. Inside it was a rare black diamond, elegant and worth millions, beside it lay a document. The contract Alexander had been desperately trying to secure with Harbor International was the key to overseas expansion. Recently, he had been under immense pressure because of it. What he didn’t know was that Aurelia had already secured it, using methods and connections far beyond his imagination.

Some clutched folded tabloids; others scrolled their phones, shaking their heads as though the proof of her shame was plastered everywhere. Lisa lifted her chin higher, refusing to let them see the sting. But with every mocking glance, she knew – someone was orchestrating her downfall, and the attack had only begun. Her secretary hurried up face pale, clutching a bundle of tabloids. "Mrs. Bronson…you should see this". She took them, her fingers tightening as her eyes caught the bold headline: "Heiress on the Run: From Hidden Identity to Sham Marriage". Her chest squeezed, the words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. Photos filled the pages – grainy shots of her shielding herself under

He was still looking at me. He had just told his board not to go looking for Adriana Salvadore or her assistant. He had shut it down hard, the way he shut things down when he was certain, when the certainty wasn't about strategy but about something that mattered to him for reasons that didn't need to be explained. He didn't know he was protecting my cover. He didn't know who Miss Andy was. He didn't know that Adriana Salvadore and Adriana Chen were the same person. He didn't know that his wife of eighteen months was the hidden heiress that his board wanted to pursue as a business partner.

she asked, though the words felt like ash in her mouth. ​"It’s your freedom, Elena. And mine." Grant leaned over the table, his eyes cold. "Evelyn is back from Paris. She’s elegant, she’s brilliant, and she’s carrying my heir. I can’t have a woman like you a girl with no background and no social standing clinging to my arm at the Valerius Gala next week." ​Elena looked up at him. She looked at the man she had secretly saved from bankruptcy three times by "anonymously" fixing his trade algorithms.

I looked broken and battered, but I also saw a spark of defiance in my eyes that I had not seen since I was eighteen years old. For five years, I played the role of a quiet and obedient wife. I wore the elegant dresses Raphael bought for me, and I kept my voice soft so I would not bother him. I accepted his indifference because I believed I owed him my life. I leaned closer to the mirror and stared at my own reflection. I touched the cold glass with my fingertips. "You are Arabella Laurent," I whispered to the empty room. "You are the heir to an empire, and you will never let a man control your fate again."

I turn my gaze back to Bridget, “It’s alright. All’s well that ends well, and it ended well. At least now we know who has the fabric. We just have to source the money to get it back from him.” The weight of the secrets I'm holding seems to pinch me but I ignore them. Bridget must suspect something has happened between me and Malachi. I’d have never left my job as Malachi’s secretary to attend to this, but I'm not going to break the exact details to her right now. I want the divorce to be finalized first. I want to tell Bridget I'm free from Malachi only when I have that signed and sealed document in my hands. There’s also the issue of my new identity as Antonia Elcot, Daughter of Damien Elco

Jarred’s words caught in his throat, and he felt a wave of nausea at the realization that his ex-wife, whom he had constantly insulted and demeaned, was actually a member of a wealthy conglomerate, and an heiress at that. For the rest of the evening, Agnes and Jarred couldn’t focus on anything but Celene. They watched as she confidently mingled with the guests, effortlessly playing the role of a successful businesswoman. They couldn’t believe that the same girl they had known for years was now the heiress of a billion-dollar company. As the night went on, Martha and Jarred’s minds were filled with questions. How could Celene have kept such a big secret from them? And why did she lie about be

“Isn’t his ex-wife Anya Walter? They are already divorced. Why would his ex-wife stay here to take care of him?” “Who knows?” “I heard that Evan is dating Princess Novlis. I wonder if it is true. Why is he with his ex-wife now?” “Also, same time ago, he had scandal with the daughter of Ship King. Which one of his real girlfriend?” A more mature-looking nurse added, “Isn’t normal for wealthy families to do such a things? Which successful man doesn’t have multiple girlfriends?” “Tsk, there are many good men.” “That’s just because it hadn’t been exposed. Do you think they don’t keep any mistresses?”

“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.

I sighed, pulling out the contract and going over it. I wet my lips, and glued my eyes at the money stated in the contract that Massimo was offering to pay. It was a ridiculous huge amount, but I wasn’t fazed. I had seen a lot of that during my time as a billionaire heiress before that bastard, Gibson, ruined my life. I gripped the pen tight in anger. “Careful not to snap it into two,” Massimo’s voice interrupted my drift, shattering my peace and silence like a glass.