The Fake Heiress

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

My mother is the Royal duchy and I am her sole heir. My mother was once deceived by my father, which nearly bankrupted our family. That bastard father of mine disappeared without a trace, taking the fortune he'd stolen from my mother and running off with his mistress. To prevent me from falling for the same kind of man in the future—to keep me from being fooled and robbed blind—my mother adopted two war orphans. She planned to raise them as potential husband candidates for me. But mother never knew the truth. These two men appeared respectful and obedient to her arrangements on the surface. But privately, they were both infatuated with my maid Josie. They constantly neglected me and made my life difficult, all to win her favor. My favorite, Marcus Reed, even gave up his own last name. He changed it to Josie's—Marcus Thompson. The betrayal cut deeper than I'd expected. Before mother died, she asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Which one do you want to choose as your husband?" But I had heard something interesting lately. There was a mafia heir—Vincent Rossi—who was notorious for his violence. He'd killed innocent people. Years of brutal fighting had left him severely injured. The doctors said he had less than six months to live. The mafia Rossi family wanted to marry him to a noblewoman before he died. I didn't hesitate to reach out to him. I offered an alliance through marriage. To my surprise, the Rossi family agreed. But on my wedding day, Marcus and the other candidate burst into the ceremony. They begged me to reconsider. "Please, don't do this!" Marcus shouted, his face desperate. "You can't marry him!" I stood there in my wedding dress, looking at the two men who had spent years ignoring me for my maid. Now they wanted me back? How interesting.

When my mother finally found the real heiress, she was on her knees selling shoes on the street. And to my surprise, I recognized her—she was none other than my fiancé's first love. Determined to oust me, the fake heiress, she played her part well, putting on a daily show to make me look bad. I was content to play along, enjoying our little game, until my fiancé’s offhand remark, “Was that really necessary?" shattered my composure. Fine, I thought, “You can keep this husband and family. I’ve got better things to do—like finding my real parents.”

On my first day back with the Cannon family as the true heiress, I heard the voice of the family’s guardian spirit. “You must stop your father from investing in the West City project. There’s an ancient tomb beneath the site. He’ll lose everything.” I convinced my father, Aaron Cannon, to abandon the project and invest in North City instead. But a factory next to the North City site had a toxic gas leak. Dozens of workers died overnight. Aaron lost his entire fortune to the compensation. While the family was drowning in despair, the guardian spirit spoke again. “Money can be earned again, but it’s a pity your mother will die in a car crash tomorrow when she goes out to borrow money from an old friend.” I immediately stopped my mother, Sally Cannon, from leaving the house. She avoided the car accident but tragically died from a sudden heart attack. With tears streaming down his face, Aaron told me she had been having chest pains for days but had endured the pain. She had only decided to go to the hospital today because she could not bear it any longer. My blood ran cold. By stopping her from going out, I had ultimately caused her death. Overwhelmed with grief, Aaron drank pesticide and died on the spot. Overnight, there was no one left in the family but me and the fake heiress, Pearl Cannon. To repay the debts and support my education, Pearl took on three jobs a day. Then, the guardian spirit spoke to me once more. “Your sister has been dragged into an alley. Go save her now!” I rushed to the location. I arrived breathless and frantic, but I was already too late. My sister lay in a pool of blood. She was not breathing anymore. I thought, ‘Mia Talbert, it’s all your fault! You’re a curse. You should’ve died instead!’ Consumed by despair, I jumped from a tall building and ended my miserable life. When I opened my eyes, I had traveled to the past.

​One fake fiancé. Two dangerous secrets. Zero room for error. ​Zoey Aguilar has lost it all: her wedding, her status, and her pride. To survive her ex’s high-profile gala with her head held high, she needs a miracle. Or at least, a very convincing fake fiancé. ​But the man who shows up isn't the escort she hired. ​Enter Christian Bellucci. Reclusive, powerful, and cold, he’s a billionaire who doesn't play games unless he’s winning them. He needs Zoey just as much as she needs him, and he’s willing to lie to the world to get what he wants. ​As their "relationship" becomes a public obsession, the lines between acting and reality begin to blur. Caught between a past that won’t let go and a man whose calm control hides a storm of devotion, Zoey realizes she’s trapped in a web of family pressure and deadly jealousy. ​In this game of revenge and ownership, Zoey must decide: is she reclaiming her life, or is she becoming his most prized possession? ​Walking away once cost Zoey her reputation. This time, it might cost her life.

They tried to erase her. She survived. Raised in a place designed to break children, she grows up learning one rule above all else: endure quietly. Hunger is discipline. Pain is routine. Obedience is survival. She doesn’t know her real name, her family, or why certain men with clean shoes and cold eyes always seem to be watching. Until the night she runs. Bleeding, hunted, and half-dead, she escapes an institution that was never meant to let her live past usefulness. What she doesn’t know is that the symbol burned into her skin isn’t a punishment it’s a claim. A mark left by a powerful underground network that doesn’t lose what it owns. Her collapse brings her into the path of three brothers who rule the city’s shadows men whose wealth buys silence, whose violence is surgical, and whose loyalty to blood is absolute. At first, she’s just another wounded stranger pulled from the streets. Then one brother recognizes the mark. And everything changes. Because years ago, the brothers tried to dismantle a trafficking empire known only as The Circle. They thought it was gone. They were wrong. The girl they saved isn’t a random survivor she’s a missing investment. A living mistake The Circle intends to reclaim. As fragments of her past surface, a terrifying truth emerges: she wasn’t abandoned as a child. She was stolen. Trained. Conditioned. And when she escaped, she didn’t just save herself she reignited a war. Hunted by a network that erases people without a trace, and protected by men who don’t lose once they claim something as theirs, she must decide whether she’ll keep running… or turn and burn everything that tried to own her.

I'm an unloved daughter in the family. For me, being beaten and scolded has become a habit, being treated unfairly is no longer a strange thing. When I was eighteen, my twin sister pushed me into bed with a strange man. Five years later, because of her, I was once again traded. "If you want your son back, you have to marry him." With that one quote from my father, I had to replace my twin sister to marry a man I had never met, Marcus Johansen, a billionaire, and CEO of Citus, who was rumored to be unapproachable and tend to be violent. For the sake of my son, I accept. I thought my life would go dark again as the day of the wedding approached. But the unexpected happened, the man who was supposed to be difficult nearby suddenly looked at me affectionately, gently kissed me on the lips, and smiled sweetly. "Found you, from now on, you're my wife" ---- A cold and thoughtful girl with a traumatic past and a sly, humorous, self-loving man who hides behind an arrogant shell. Let's see what happens in their love life. Ernesta: He is my brother-in-law and also my son's father. How can I handle this mess? What should I do now? Marcus: It doesn't matter who she is, I just know she's my wife and the mother of my children. That's enough. Now don't bother me, I have to go coax my wife.

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

On the day of my daughter’s dance competition, a madman suddenly charged at her with an iron rod. To protect her, I took dozens of hits, and my arm was brutally broken. My husband, William Zafron, caught the madman on the spot and rushed us to his private hospital. In the hospital room, I woke up from the pain and tried to call for William. Then I overheard the doctor asking him, “Weren’t we just replacing the knee joint? Why did you hurt Ms. Nina and kill Ella?” “Nina only has a broken arm and some wounds. Her injuries aren’t fatal.” William replied, “Ella’s purpose was to be an organ carrier for Sophia’s daughter. Now that she has fulfilled her role, there’s no need for her to live. “After all... Sophia’s daughter is my own child.” That was when I realized that my daughter was just an organ carrier to him. What he did not know was that Sophia’s daughter was not even his.

Everyone thought Sophia Collins was the poor fake heiress. She lost her place in the Collins family, got sent to a brutal obedience academy, and spent three years eating dog food, sleeping in kennels, and wearing a leash like an animal. When my father finally brought her home, she knelt in front of him, covered in bruises, and sobbed, “Dad, I’ll behave. Please don’t let Ava chain me like a dog again.” Everyone looked at me like I was a monster. What they didn’t know was that Sophia had once stolen my body. In my last life, I was the one trapped in that academy. I was the one beaten, humiliated, and forced to bark on my knees. Then she switched our souls back and framed me for everything. My father believed her. He broke my legs and threw me into a dog cage. But this time, I came back before the nightmare began. And when Sophia stole my body again, she thought she had won. She didn’t know I had already turned her own trap into mine.