The Fake Heiress Novels & Stories

He, as well, was in utter disbelief. “That's impossible. Her name doesn't say Montello on her identification card!” Wilma muttered. The guests surrounded them all scowled at her, wondering if she knew the heiress. “There's a rumor circulating around back then. It said that Don Geromino's child was using a fake name so she could freely go outside and travel anywhere she wished to without having any trouble. It seems that the rumor was true after all,” others chimed in. Their attention went back in front when Margaux started speaking, completely ignoring Wilma, who seemed to be hyperventilating already. All of them were in awe as they found the heiress not just gorgeous and stunning but very a

“Don’t you?” I pulled my shoulders back. “I do, actually.” Before Bianca could speak, I turned to face the crowd. Pointing at her, I said, “Bianca is an imposter! She’s been lying to you all for months—she’s not the female Alpha! I am!” The crowd murmured again, but silenced quickly when my father cleared his throat. “The girl speaks lies. Bianca is my heir.” “The girl?” I whipped my head around to glare at him. “All my life, I was your heir, your only true daughter! Bianca is the child of an affair and not a legitimate heir to the throne!”

On my wedding anniversary, my three-year-old son gave me an alpaca as a gift. I turned right around and shipped it off to the circus, where I found it a strapping alpaca husband. All because I'd been reborn. In my last life, that alpaca was sweet and gentle with everyone—except me. Every single day, it spat on me. Determined not to disappoint my son, I tried everything to win it over, but nothing worked. My mind unraveled. I stopped sleeping. I started hearing things that weren't there, and every night I dreamed of that alpaca chasing me down to spit in my face. My husband called me vicious. My son called me petty. And the two of them only grew closer to that alpaca by the day. Worn dow

The apartment was full of books, art, music—signs of a complex personality at odds with Jane's description. "People can surprise you," she echoed his words from the night before. "Indeed they can." Something shifted in his expression—a crack in the cold facade. "For instance, I was surprised to discover my arranged bride had sent an imposter in her place. Almost as surprised as when I learned why." "Why what?" "Why Jane couldn't face me herself." His knuckles whitened around his wine glass. "Tell me, did she mention Marcus Kane when she convinced you to take her place?"

princess" title with Alicia. - The birthday banquet was a grand affair. Everyone came to catch a glimpse of the Rodney family's long-lost second daughter. Dressed in a custom-made gown by Chester, Alicia played her role to perfection as the dazzling, untouchable heiress of the Rodney family. While pretending to help me change into my dress, she leaned in, eyes bright with smugness, and whispered in my ear, "So what if you're the biological daughter, Eliza? You're just the second child—barely relevant. I'm still the one Mom and Dad adore most. You want to play dirty little tricks? Eliza, you've got a long way to go."

Her identity was kept strictly confidential, her profile deliberately low‑key to protect her privacy and security. Into that gap stepped Amber. She had quickly seized the opportunity, presenting herself openly as the sole heiress and the face of the company. It was a bold, calculated lie—for Amber was nothing more than the daughter of a former household maid, who had learned to mimic the manners and speech of the wealthy while coveting their status and fortune. She saw her chance to rewrite her story, and she took it without hesitation.

The fake heiress was dead. My biological parents believed I was responsible. Together, they reported me to the authorities and demanded that my memories be extracted. After watching my memories, everyone broke down in tears. But I smiled. This was exactly what I wanted. To become the perfect victim.

It felt as though a giant hand had wrapped around my heart and squeezed. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. I looked at him, eyes red, and forced out every word through clenched teeth. "I didn't do anything wrong! You all know exactly what happened! "I wasn't born to be some family's fake heiress! I have a family too! If you're all so afraid I'll compete with her, then I'll leave! That way you won't have to keep putting on this ridiculous act!" The words tore away the final layer of pretense.

“I’m the real heiress of the Grant family.” “No way!” Yvette screamed, protesting, but then she realized we were not at the orphanage. She clamped her hands over her mouth and shook her head in panic. “You died so horribly in your last life. Ms. Hovard had to collect your body. I got there too late and only saw your ashes. And now, you’re saying you’re the real heiress? Who are you trying to fool? No parent could be that cruel to actually kill their own child.”

The banquet did not end because of this episode. Instead, it became even livelier. However, I knew Sienna would never let this go. Soon enough, new pop-up messages appeared. [The Harlow parents are actually giving the family heirloom to the fake heiress!] [My God, they're not even pretending anymore. They favor the real heiress openly but secretly prioritize the fake heiress in everything?] [I feel so bad for her! She should just destroy the heirloom. After all, it'll become the key weapon the fake heiress uses to bring her down later.]