The Heiress Gets A Duke Novels & Stories

Isabella cursed inwardly. So this was one of the so-called elite. She recognized him now—Williams Edinburgh. Chairman of Crown Real Estate. Rank: tenth on the rich list. Reputation: disgusting. As expected. He reached for her again. This time, with more force. He was already dragging her toward the couch when— A hand landed on her shoulder. Cold. Steady. Familiar. Before she could react, she was pulled back— —and the next second, she was pressed into a firm embrace.

“Why is Ashanti the heir and not Cassey? I get that she’s the esteemed daughter, but Cassey is the firstborn. Like men, women should never settle for a default arrangement.” “Lady Ashanti has proven herself worthy, my Duke. She was the esteemed daughter.” The duchess insisted. But the duke still looked unpleasant. He is not convinced. “Then why don’t you let them compete for the position? That’s the fairest way.” “But it has been decided already. I can’t let myself drive a wedge between my lovely daughters, just for a position.” Cassey bit her lip. ‘There’s a wedge between us already. You worry too late.’

His bride’s outrageous antics provided him with the excuse to do so earlier, and with his father’s blessings. Upon summons of his ailing father Stephen returned to England immediately, although reluctantly. The affairs of his family’s estate were in turmoil and he was required at home to assist. The duke was unwell and his physicians were unable to diagnose the cause of his ever worsening breathing ailment. To add to the upheaval, the overseer, Mr. Eversmith, suffered a tragic fall from his mount while chasing poachers off their land and died from a broken neck. With his father bedridden and the overseer deceased, the lands and management of the estate were in dire need of attention. His mot

John added. “What a beautiful woman” Duke Essandor’s eyes lit up at the sight of Alexis. He was a greedy man who went after anything pretty and valuable. He hadn’t seen a woman like Alexis before. Someone who exuded such grace with nothing but her poise. He didn’t know who she was, but he had already resolved to have her as his concubine.

He just stood there, staring at me across the crowded ballroom with an expression of complete devastation. The girl he'd thrown away, the wife he'd neglected and humiliated, the woman he'd told would never find anyone better, was Isabella Morrison. Granddaughter of Alexander Morrison. Heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country. One of the most powerful women in New York. And he'd let me go without a fight. The applause finally died down and I sat back down, accepting congratulations from the people at my table with grace and poise I'd learned from watching my brothers navigate society. But I was hyperaware of the Wei family table, of the chaos I knew was happening there.

Kaelus didn't even blink at the bloody display unfolding right in front of him. "Raipherze! I—I heard the Duke talking to the head butler!" the young man who leaked the information blurted out, shivering in pure terror as he stared at his comrade's mangled face. "You just said Lancaster." "It—it was just a stopover, Your Grace! The Duke owns a massive estate in Raipherze. Back when he proposed to the lady—" "Enough," Kaelus cut him off sharply. His chest heaved with a quiet fury, entirely unwilling to hear a single word about his woman's past with another man.

From a distance, she looked like exactly what she was supposed to be: a poised billionaire heiress, draped in silk, her dark hair swept into an elegant twist. Up close, the illusion fractured. Her shoulders were tight. Her smile—when she offered it—was carefully rationed. And every few minutes, her gaze flicked instinctively toward the raised dais at the center of the room, where her stepmother presided like a queen over court. Margaux Laurent was radiant tonight. She always was. She wore crimson, the color of conquest, her blonde hair arranged perfectly, her laughter ringing loud enough to command attention. Executives clustered around her, men twice her age nodding eagerly as she gestured

I said softly. Then I leaned slightly toward her ear and whispered, “Then make sure your lover doesn’t belong to someone else.” I straightened up and smiled sweetly. “Being a mistress is quite disgusting.” Her face instantly turned pale. I turned away from her as if she no longer existed. “I don’t like strangers barging into my property,” I said casually as I stepped inside the house.

Yvette jumped up from the bed, shocked and confused. I locked eyes with her, and my tone was serious. “Answer me. Can you do it?” When she reluctantly nodded, I finally let out a sigh of relief. Yvette still looked bewildered. “Queenie, what are you planning?” I recalled the layout of the study and the strange things in the cabinet in my mind. Piece by piece, the final clue to this bizarre adoption puzzle clicked into place. “I know which one of us is the real Grant heiress…”

A minute later, her door burst open and Helena—her ever-stressed personal assistant—stormed in, holding a tablet like it was a ticking time bomb. “You need to see this,” she said breathlessly. “Helena, what—” “It’s everywhere.” She thrust the tablet toward Isabella, and her heart dropped the second she saw the headline. > Laurent Heiress in Secret Relationship with Blackwood Tycoon – Sources Confirm Intimacy Inside Family Estate Below the headline was a blurry photo of her and Alexander walking through the gardens at dusk. His hand was on the small of her back. Her face was tilted toward his, her expression soft and unguarded.