The Heiress Audiobook Novels & Stories

He looked like a storybook prince—Adrien from Miraculous, perhaps—if that prince had been forced into a black button-down suit. “That’s true,” He whispered. I was trying my hardest to ignore the impossible words I had overheard through the door. Heiress. Stolen. Dead. It had to be a misunderstanding. It was a coincidence of features, a trick of the light. I was Ophelia Vitale, the girl from the orphanage. We climbed a grand, sweeping staircase and reached a set of towering double doors made of dark, intricately carved mahogany. Eugene pushed them open, and we stepped into a room that felt more like a sanctuary than a study. Upon entering, my breath hitched.

I felt like a new being, the usual cold breeze now turned hot on my skin. “Silver!” a familiar voice called. This could only be one person. I darted my eyes to confirm my doubts. It was Amelia. Of course, she was. Wrapped in a golden-colored gown that fitted her curvy frame, her golden hair pinned like a crown around her cruel, perfect face. She was her mother’s favorite. The pack’s pride. The heir to everything I had never been allowed to dream of. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting.” “Still alive?” she said, sipping from the silver tea cup she was holding, as if it offended her that I still drew breathe.

I gave a tight smile and walked in, heading towards the table at the end of the hall. The library was huge and smelled like crisp paper. Rows of towering shelves were all over the place, and it was as silent as a graveyard. “Alpha Zen,” the old scribe greeted, courtseying. I recognized him from when my father was alive. His name was Jayreth. “You’ve heard about the girl, have you not?” I asked him. I did not have time to waste on pleasantries. “Yes, I have,” he said. “The enemy’s daughter . The one with glowing blood, isn’t it?”

I pushed the mug aside, pressing my palms flat against the table as though I needed the wood to anchor me. “I won’t be erased anymore,” I said. My voice trembled, then steadied. “Not by the fire. Not by my uncle. Not even by my own fear. I’ve lived too long as half a woman—Isabella, a shadow of someone I barely understood. But I’m not just Isabella.” Mia’s brows drew together. “Then who are you?” I lifted my chin, the answer falling from me like it had waited years to be spoken. “I am Isabella—the survivor. But I am also Marisol—the Abram heiress they tried to destroy.”

"The Rivers heiress gave you this card, right? Well, now that she's here, let's see if she even knows who you are!" Bastien finished. "Now is the time to come clean about your crime, Sebastian!" Hera urged frantically. "Stop making things worse! Even I almost can't be bothered with you. How could the heiress be bothered then?" She looked at Leda and felt a nagging sense of inferiority. She might rival her in beauty and figure, but she could never match her aura or the way she carried herself.

I was smiling when I left Azrael’s building. Even after all that — the unsettling opulence, his cryptic smirk, and the way his words coiled around me like chains made of silk — I was smiling. Because I had done it. I had the money. I could finally pay Heather back. I could finally unshackle Theo from her control. Even if I have sold my soul to the devil, it was all worth it if it would mean that I would help Theo.

She had a displeased look at my father’s hesitation, but I knew her too well to think she would back down. “Ehm... sorry about that.” She smiled. “He can be very emotional, as am I,” she said. “But this is a happy day. Today, my husband and I declare Daisy Gomez, the only daughter of Eric and Mirela Gomez, the new heiress of—” “Why would you make such a declaration without consulting your first daughter?” I called out, stepping into the congregation fully. The crowd fell into stunned silence. All eyes turned to me as I walked down the aisle, flanked by Olivia and Matilda. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the congregation. Some clutched their pearls; others whispered my name in disbelief.

“Not Ambrose.” “HA!.... Rum…,” I sighed and shivered as he slid out a bit—. And slammed down, hard and strong. “Not fucking Giles!” He lifted my butt and rammed in once more. “NO ONE!” And pleasure exploded inside me, gripping me hard. ***** I stared at the beautiful heiress. Despite the demure dress she was wearing, her hair pulled up into a sophisticated ponytail, she looked like she had claws instead of human hands. "G-Good afternoon, Miss Goldie —."

My mother-in-law stood in the doorway of what was supposed to be my home, looking at me like I was dirt on her expensive shoes. "He'll be here," I said quietly, even though we both knew I was lying. Margaret laughed, the sound was cold and cruel. "My son is working late with Victoria. You know, someone actually important? Someone who understands business? Not some nobody he picked up from God knows where." My fingers tightened around my phone. I wanted to scream that I understood business better than Victoria ever could, that I could buy and sell the Blackwell family fortune ten times over, that I was Elena Sterling, hidden heiress to Sterling Global, one of the largest corporations in the c

And besides, it would be a little hypocritical of her to refuse him now on the basis of his wealth, when she had just unearthed laws making herself one of the youngest female CEO billionaires in history. Pot and kettle and all that. Feeling like her thoughts had been gathered, Abigail headed back to the house. But she decided to make a pit stop. She now knew that the uncultivated lands she had been so casually strolling on for months did not, in fact, belong to her father and were not part of his estate. But, Abigail supposed, no one had arrested her yet. So, she might as well take one last walk there. She was walking for a few minutes, when she heard a familiar voice.