The Hidden Heiress Novels & Stories

She was dressed up in a satin gown that showed all her curves, her hair had been done up and her face, well was rather gorgeous. She was smiling at the party like she belonged here. Her earlier inquired about her and found out she was Alicia Dickson, heiress to the Dickson fortune. The Dickson family had been his family’s rival for years. Was that why she disliked him so much? But he didn’t think she knew he was a George. “Maybe its in our blood to hate each other,” he laughed. She soon noticed him and her smile instantly dropped. She started to approach him. He smirked.

“Call me.” “Have you seen it?” “We need to talk.” All I asked for is a peaceful life, can I ever get it? I took a deep breath and opened the first text from Lily. "Have you seen the article? Call me ASAP." What article? I scrolled through my notifications and found a link to New York Social, the city's premier gossip magazine. The publication every wealthy family reads over breakfast while pretending they didn't. The headline made my stomach drop. "ASHFORD HEIRESS RETURNS: Kate Taylor Joins Father's Empire After Bitter Divorce."

“All of you can return to wherever you came from.” “No,” Mr. Sterling said suddenly. Everyone turned to him. “Maya is the rightful heiress to my fortune.” Nelly’s head snapped up. “What?!” she screamed. “I’m the rightful heiress!” Mr. Sterling looked at her calmly, disappointment evident on his face. “My dear, you are my daughter, yes. And because I raised you, you will inherit something. But Maya…” He turned toward Maya, his voice softening. “Maya is the one who will inherit the main property.”

My mind refused the information, the way it sometimes refused impossible numbers on a financial report before the details resolved into something comprehensible. A photograph. Amelia, walking down the steps of a building I recognized instantly as Hart Global Headquarters, standing beside an elderly man I recognized just as quickly as Edmund Hart. Beside it, smaller, an old photograph from our wedding day. And above both images, in bold black letters that seemed to grow larger the longer I stared at them, a headline that made absolutely no sense standing next to everything I thought I understood about the woman I had been married to for three years. ‘THE HIDDEN HEIRES

Two little girls stood beside each other. One was Amelia. The other was Eva. But behind them stood three adults. Her mother. Richard. And Samuel. Eva stared at Samuel. “He was there.” “Yes,” Margaret said. Eva turned the photograph over. There was a handwritten message. THE FIRST HEIR WILL BE WATCHED. THE SECOND HEIR WILL BE HIDDEN. WHEN THEY FIND EACH OTHER, THE ARCHIVE WILL OPEN. Eva's heart pounded. “The second heir.” She looked at Amelia. “That was me.”

Resolve. I had spent years obeying him. I had spent years believing that his decisions were made because he knew what was best for me. Not anymore. As I stepped into the corridor, I looked back at the closed door. There was a secret buried beneath the Davidson name. A secret powerful enough to frighten my father. A secret powerful enough to make him sacrifice my future. And if he refused to tell me the truth… I would find it myself. Inside the room, he remained motionless. His fingers tightened around his gold watch. He had won the argument.

She had stood on that stage and revealed herself as Hazel Saint Claire, CEO of E&H Investments, and I had stood there like a fool, my mouth hanging open, unable to process what I was seeing. Hazel Saint Claire. Not Hazel Rossi. Not some woman trying to build a small restaurant. Hazel Saint Claire. Billionaire heiress. CEO of a global company. Granddaughter of Margaret Sinclair. And she hadn't told me. All those months together. All those nights when I had asked her what was wrong and she had lied to my face. All those moments when she could have trusted me, could have told me the truth, and instead she had kept it locked away like I was someone she couldn't rely on.

“He stole the Fame project blueprints and sold them to LR Architectural. We almost went under because of him.” The memory still burned. George had been working for the rival company the whole time, and his gambling habits had made him easy to manipulate. We’d gathered enough evidence to get him locked up, yet here he was, strolling around like nothing had happened. “I didn’t know until recently,” Nathaniel said quietly. Before I could respond, Clara returned with Elara. “Come on,” she called, waving us over. We joined them near the dance floor. “This is Elara,” Clara announced. “Try to remember her face this time, Mr. Blackwood.”

Winston had walked into my kitchen hours ago and handed over my biometric security cards directly. "I have the signed document here on my desk," Madam Marsh continued smoothly, her tone patronizing and absolute. "If you wish to receive it—and ensure your future in high society remains untarnished—you will attend the Midsummer Heritage Gala at the Grand Regency tonight. Wear a proper gown, do not embarrass the family, and prepare to be presented as Jasmine Marsh, not Hayes." A cold, lethal fury ignited in my chest, but I forced my voice to remain completely flat, playing the part of the compliant granddaughter. "I understand, Madam Marsh."

An Ashbourne property had changed hands within months of my mother's death, buried deep enough that a daughter looking fifteen years later would never find it, would give up long before reaching this exact page. Eleanor dies. I get declared unstable. I disappear into a hospital no one visited for fifteen years, not once, not a single card or phone call in all that time. Claire becomes the Grant heiress in my place, wearing a name and a life that had never belonged to her, stepping into rooms that should have been mine to walk into. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, quietly, methodically, an Ashbourne asset changes hands, moved by someone who understood exactly how much attention a gr