The Heiress Strikes Back Novels & Stories

He said. "I've been working my butt off for everyone all my life" "And It's time for me to step down and enjoy the rest of my life" I was so shocked. Don't tell me. "It's time to introduce the new successor of Madden Group of Hospitals and Madden Realty Group" No way. Not yet. "Let me introduce to you, my one and only heiress, the reason for all of my hard work. Soline Madden" My mouth dropped. I want to throw tantrums at dad but everyone is looking at me including the men I slept with.

The Public Humiliation The clock struck ten. The music faded, and Julian stepped onto the small stage, grabbing a microphone. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of triumph and malice. "Can I have everyone’s attention?" Julian’s voice boomed. "Today is my birthday, but it’s also a day of 'new beginnings.' Vivienne, darling, why don't you come up here? I know you have something for me." The room went silent. The elite of New York turned to watch the billionaire heiress play the fool for her chauffeur’s son once again. Stacy smirked from the front row, clutching a designer bag I’d bought her last Christmas.

Every strike sent ripples through the Veil. We fought like wolves. Like gods. Like two storms colliding in the eye of eternity. He was fast, but I was faster. He was strong, but I had something stronger—Alina. Together, we moved in sync. I ducked. She struck. I parried. She blasted a shadow away with a pulse of pure will. But the First Heir was endless. For every wound we landed, he healed. For every strike we dodged, two more came. I felt exhaustion creeping in. My muscles screamed. My grip faltered.

He frowned, “watch your tone.” “I asked you a question, Lucas. Don't mess with me.” I replied, with anger burning within me. “Why shouldn't I mess with you? Who are you? You're nothing but a pathetic heiress with nothing in her bank account. No money, no assets. Nothing.” “My child is in Kate. You can't do this to me!” I wailed, “God, you're quite slow.” I blinked.

he growled. I yanked my arm away from his hand, and gave both of them one last look. “Not if you regret it first.” I walked away, my heart slamming against my chest. I could feel their eyes on me, but I just shrugged the feeling off. I headed straight to my office, carried my bag and left the building. I stripped off my hospital ID and threw it in the bin. I was done being the victim. I was going to reclaim my seat as the heiress and everyone who had crossed me would rue the days they were born.

That day was especially hard for him, not just because of work, but because the stock he had been investing to plummeted due to the conflict of the owner. He sighed and walked toward the lift. At least his day was over and he would get to see Layla back home. However, his evening didn’t really go as smooth as he planned. When he reached the lobby. He saw one of his boss, Jean Charme with a familiar looking face. It was the woman he saw at the party, the one that resembled Sofia so much but was quite different from her. Seeing her made him recall the moment he had with Layla when they exited the party that night.

“Go on” “I know Jamie. I know every secret, every weakness of his empire. I want to propose a deal— an alliance. I’ll help you bring down his business piece by piece, and in return, I want you to let me manage your company’s finances.” My voice grew more confident with each word that came out of my mouth. He laughed. “How am I supposed to trust you, you’re his wi—“ “Ex-wife” I cut him, “soon to be his ex-wife”

Not because there was nothing to say but because everything we could say was too large to fit into words yet. I stared out the oval window, watching darkness swallow the wing, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. Her hair was tangled, her eyes too sharp, too awake. There were faint scratches along her collarbone and wrist—souvenirs from a rooftop where the truth finally stopped hiding. I wasn’t the Hidden Heiress anymore. I wasn’t the substitute. I was the girl whose grandfather had signed her death warrant before she was old enough to understand what betrayal looked like.

There was a video attached, and my hands gripped my phone tightly as I waited impatiently for it to load. “Are you okay, Clarissa?” Devan asked, noticing my mood. The video had just begun playing and in my shock, I said nothing in response but instead turned my phone towards him. He squinted for a bit as he glanced at my screen and I could see the shock on his face as he read the headlines and looked up at me. The first video was one of my presentations at the office earlier that week, but the shocker wasn't the video but the caption attached to it, which threw me off balance, revealing me as the heiress of the Montclair empire.

For the first time, fear flickered behind his composure. Power wasn’t control. It was exposure. When I walked away, my heart thundered but my steps never faltered. The crowd parted like a tide. Somewhere, a journalist was already typing the headline: ‘The Lost Abram Heiress Returns — Family Secrets Resurface at Charity Gala.’ Mia caught my eye from across the room, her smile trembling with pride. I exhaled slowly. I’d done it — not as a broken survivor, but as the woman I was meant to be.