The Fake Heiress' Fight Novels & Stories

“Fools. Both of you.” Alina stepped forward beside me, defiant. “You’re not winning this.” He raised a hand. Shadows writhed behind him, swirling like a storm. “You opened the door. Now I walk through.” He launched forward. The battle began with a shockwave. Alina leapt to the side, slashing with a dagger she’d conjured from energy. I met the First Heir head-on, the Queen’s Fang clashing against his twisted claws. Every strike sent ripples through the Veil.

She'd chosen it, on her own terms, the same way she'd chosen every other move since the moment she'd walked into that cathedral. I reached for my keys. Mason watched me for a second before he stood too. "Boss?" I didn't explain. I walked toward the door instead, already calculating how fast I could get there. "Where are we going?" he called after me. I stopped just long enough to answer. "To find my wife." We left the estate together, and I still knew almost nothing about Emily Grant, not what Whitmore had given her, not what she'd learned about her mother, not why someone wanted to know badly enough to follow her through half the city in broad daylight. I knew one thing clearly enough. What

They added that I, a mistress like me, should rot in hell with my baby, for it was important to eliminate the problem at its source. I fixed my gaze on the usernames, forcing myself to remember each of these scoundrels. One day, I would settle the score with each of them, one by one. The fake heiress laughed triumphantly, pressing her stiletto heel hard against my hand and looking down at me with contempt. "Karen? You steal my man, and I'll make sure you never find peace." Staring at the sharp heel digging into my palm, I felt no pain. Instead, I tilted my head back, facing everyone in front of me, laughing maniacally, "I won't forget any of you. Everything you've done today will be paid bac

My knees threatened to buckle and shame warred inside me, making both felt like poison. “You see, the jewelry box didn't open. And that makes her not your sister.” Tricia mocks and if the students laughed. A few cheered as if the day’s entertainment had been completed. The principal's expression tightened, pleased to see order restored to her neat world. “Well, the jewelry box must be broken like I earlier suggested. And that is why Tricia, the true Belfort Heiress, couldn't open it. For Yvonne, there was no way it could open it because she isn't anything close to a heiress, she is just faking it all”

My mother stroked her hair, filled with pity, blaming herself for losing her daughter. Then, seeing the cold look on my face, she seemed a bit embarrassed. She quickly got up, came to my side, and held my hand to comfort me. "It’s okay, we'll just consider her an older sister. I could never abandon you," she said. Bella's look of hurt quickly twisted into one of spite, her eyes glaring at me with intensity. She hadn't expected that I, the impostor, would be so valued—that the return of the real heiress wouldn't mean I'd step aside.

Naturally gifted with a strong memory, I had practiced this test over a hundred times and could even recite the answers from memory. After leaving the exam hall, everyone was eager to know how I had done. I said only one thing: “Better than ever.” Before the scores were even released, Ethan arrived with Mrs. Whitmore to propose, planning to get engaged to Vivian. Mrs. Whitmore had initially looked displeased. After all, everyone knew Vivian was the impostor heiress. In a prestigious family, bloodlines mattered, an heir’s identity could never be handed to an illegitimate child. But Ethan repeatedly assured her that Vivian was exceptionally capable and could get into Yale. Grandpa Sullivan had

"You impostor! How dare you try to act like you're the real thing? Do you want me to kill you?" I was slapped so hard that I couldn't think straight. The bodyguard, Wayne Perry, was looking at me with such hatred and disgust that it was as if he believed I was the actual impostor. I opened my mouth with difficulty and said, "Didn't Fred tell you earlier? Candace is lying!" Wayne just chortled and replied, "Ms. Candace is the real heiress of the Ashford family. You're nothing but an impostor. But I see that you've already gotten too deep in your act!"

"She did. The kidnapping was a misunderstanding. However, I'd like to report her for intentional assault and the attempted theft of high-value property. There are plenty of witnesses and surveillance footage to back it up." Seeing a chance to redeem themselves, the crowd rushed forward to testify on my behalf. Yvonne panicked at the thought of going to prison. "I didn't! I didn't steal anything!" I took my bracelet back from her hand and gestured to the stones. "Each of these diamonds is worth one hundred million dollars. Yvonne, you're going to spend the rest of your life in prison."

“Amelia, what are you trying to do now?! “The test results are in, and you still can’t accept it? You’re not my granddaughter; Kimberly is! How dare you steal what belongs to her?” I smiled serenely. “If what you’re claiming is the truth, then why would I, the fake heiress, be afraid to go live? Could it be that there’s something wrong with your evidence? “I don’t care for other people’s possessions, but no one is going to take what belongs to me. Grandmother, just sit back and watch tonight’s live stream carefully.”

She's just trying so much to sound normal and polite right now, but I can still sense the underlying cold tone. “How's the kids and everyone else?" I asked again. She tensed up a bit as I asked that question, but she answered anyway. “They’re very good, thank you." She answered. "So what were you saying you came to see Eugene for?” I asked her, starting the conversation. "I need your help with something.” "Go ahead, I'm all ears,” I said. "Eugene isn't the real heiress, she's impersonating someone. She’s using Mr Lancster’s failing health as a cover for now, he doesn't even know that a strange person is impersonating the heiress he chose,” She said.