The Heir And The Servant, Started From A Bet Novels & Stories

All of the servants voices sang in chorus-accompanied by the squeal of her personal aid, Sera. "Oh? I was just merely a joke. I did not know you're all easily flustered." Yseah kid. "Though, it can be done right?" "Ehh? What are you talking about-" "All of you." Yseah forstalled him for the third time. "Why don't we make a bet? If his highness will end up with the wench she brought, I then will kill myself in front of all the eyes of this wolven nation. Not just that, before my execution I will give you hefty amount of money to escape yourselves as a petty servants of this palace. Those jewels are valuable than your life you know. " she pauses to curl her lips cunningly. "But if they will no

Etta replied, a wounded tone to her voice, "You're not just my servant, are you? Servants can be easily replaced, you know. It would be better if you were my friend, yes?" Heidi sobbed, wiped the tears from her eyes, and then reluctantly nodded. "Good!" Etta chirped, happy the matter was resolved. She scooted closer to the edge of the bed, luxurious silk sheets rubbing softly on her naked rump cheeks. Heidi sobbed again, wiped her tears, but obediently leaned forward, nuzzling between Etta's open thighs. Heidi reached up with delicate fingers and brushed her blonde curls back as she closed her eyes. Her soft, full lips parted as the scent of Etta's juicy cunt wafted. With a shudder, the serv

Finding the Head Servant, she crafted a story of remorse. "About yesterday's… quarrel with my husband," she began, affecting a contrite tone. "I wish to make an amend. A gift. Something meaningful. But I fear my own taste is lacking." She looked at him with wide, imploring eyes. "You have served my father for years. Your discernment is unparalleled. Would you… could you personally seek out something suitable in the town? I would trust no one else with this." It was a gamble. Asking the Head Servant to leave the mansion was no small request. He was the Duke's eyes and ears. But the appeal to his vanity and his perceived role as a facilitator of the marital union worked.

And then…Someone raised a glass. Then another. Then another. The tension broke.“Let’s get this party started!” a voice shouted. Laughter returned. Music slowly picked up again,like nothing had happened,like blood wasn’t still on the floor. Like war hadn’t just walked through the door. But everything had changed. Because now…Everyone knew,the heirs were not just back. They were dangerous. And they were here to stay.

"Well, before Jim announced that you were going to be his heir several of the bachelors started betting who was going to get you into their bed." I look at the last two Macintier boys and they have hung their heads. "Really Luke, Jhon." They both nod their heads and I was stunned and Harlod continued. "Yeah, they were part of the bet until they realized what had happened to you. As more of the circuit knew what you had been through the participants started dropping out. Little did I know that Benedict was already way over his head in debt. He had been going down and betting in the casinos and soon had no money left in his trust.

Or are you his wife? “Not like that…” She tried to speak but I cut her off. “You better respect yourself, Rita. You should know that I am carrying the Heir to the Steel's Group. If you don't have respect for me, at least show some respect to the Unborn Heir to the Steel Family wealth!” “Excuse me!” I hissed, walking out on Rita. I wonder what type of Servants we have nowadays. They are so rude. When Ivy was still here, they respected her so much but me? They are always showing off!

Gracie was the treasured heiress of the Fosters, and Lionel was the precious darling everyone in the family protected. They probably would never recognize that the leading cardiologist sitting before them in glasses was the real heir they had once shut out. "I know you're the top cardiologist in the city. Getting an appointment with you isn't easy. But don't worry. Money isn't a problem. As long as you can save my brother, you can name your price." Gracie held a black card between two fingers and placed it on my desk. I lowered my eyes to it, then looked back at her.

That night, this man who was used to seeing crates of dirty money tossed and turned in his narrow wooden bed, clutching those few worn-out bills. The next morning, he sat down beside me with dark circles under his eyes. "Chloe, be with me. I have money." Of course, I knew he had money. For the famous heir of the Moretti family, money was never an issue. From that day on, he started to pursue me. It was a grand spectacle, and everyone in our world was watching the show. Wherever I went, there were whispers from family members. "See? A mob boss's love isn't worth a dime. Serena's barely been gone a month and the heir's already found a new girl from the slums."

Something that was waiting for an Heir. To Be Continued...

He played soccer with an aggression that scouts apparently loved and he carried the Cross name the way I carried the Vance name, like something heavy that had been placed on him without asking. The difference between us was that I knew about the weight. I was not sure he did. The feud was real and documented and old. My father built Vance Holdings across thirty years on client relationships and handshake loyalty. Marcus Cross arrived with his boutique firm and his particular willingness, and one by one those clients walked across the street. Four years of litigation. Two Wall Street Journal mentions. One ruling of inconclusive that satisfied absolutely no one. What remained was two families