The Lost Heir Novels & Stories

"Daddy came looking for you because I wasn't what he wanted. I'm not the perfect heir and protégé because I don't do everything the way he wants me too. I do think he really loves you, especially now. But he came looking for you because I wasn't good enough. And don't pity me for it, because I have no intention of being what he wants me to be. If I took the company, I was going to revolutionize it. He knew that, and I refused to hide it. He was never going to give it to me anyway." "Oh," Abigail answered. "I'm sorry, anyway." "No," Olivia shook her head again. "Its just how things are done here. They choose the boys for their bravery and deviation to the main plan, and exile girls for the sa

I stand there, panting, trying to clear my thoughts of the tiredness. I need to find a way to change this "last mission" of the heir. I don't know why he ran away, but I'm sure he'll be back. I can't run away forever, especially when he has a physical advantage. Any kid my age would easily accept a hug, but I'd rather die in battle. That's why they made it his final mission. Wait, the heir is under the tutelage of a new teacher since we arrived in Castile, since according to reports his last teacher is at home due to injury in battle. The only teacher in Castile who knows me so well is. . .

Jax left quickly. Lorenzo returned to the screens. One image enlarged: a closer view of Isadora’s face. She was starting to stir now, eyebrows twitching, her breathing heavy. But she wasn’t awake yet. “Finally,” Lorenzo whispered. “Finally I’ll have what belongs to me.” His eyes narrowed. “Adrian Sinclair took everything. My place. My legacy. My birthright. And Matt… Matt was just a fool trying to steal leftovers.” He chuckled in disgust. “But you, Isadora… you’re the real heir. You’re the key to the Sinclair empire. To everything your mother left behind.”

More gasps from the council emerged and my father had to quiet down the chatter to continue. “Yes, I know, I am surprised as well. She gave birth to a boy in secrecy and turned to one of the covens for help. They took him and hid him away, no one knows where. He is all but a ghost, and we know that the coven that took him will not come forward. It would break their code of secrecy. This boy is the rightful heir to the South and is their Alpha and King. Not Eric. Aria hid him because she knew that it was certain death if Eric found out.”

“You think I don’t know what he’s doing? I helped him draw the blueprints.” Julian blinked. She smiled. “You’re not the only heir playing a long game, Mr. Vince.” And that was when he realized: she wasn’t Crane’s weakness. She was his legacy. — Back in New York – Same Night Clarissa slammed the door open into the safehouse. “Aiden,” she called out. He looked up from his laptop, eyebrows furled. “What happened?” She held up a burner phone. “Emergency message. One of our contacts from Legal just went dark. But before that—he sent a code. It matches a set of offshore files buried under your dad’s name.”

She mouthed. I stopped as though triggered by her question. “I am, Blair. I love her,” “You don't,” she screamed. “You can't possibly love a woman from a rival pack. She's not even her father's heir anymore, he's dead. What much can you gain from her?” “Love ain't about gain, and I don't care where she is from. I'll do everything to keep her as mine,” “What?” Blair mumbled, gnashing her teeth once more. “No, you love me. We only took a break and I'm back with an heir for you. You'll take me back,” she desperately claimed.

How he brought down an empire with a single roar and burned a third of the vampire dominion in the space of a night. They think they killed that line. Buried it with fire and silence. But they didn’t know… The last heir was hidden in blood. And born into a storm. I close the cabinet, locking it with an incantation. Then I reach for my journal. Not the one I keep for public study, but the bound volume passed through my line for generations.

“You’re embracing both?” “Yes.” My voice was steel now. “Isabella is the name I clung to when the world thought I was gone. She is resilient, proof that I endured what was meant to kill me. But Marisol—Marisol is the truth. She is the inheritance, the bloodline, the history they tried to bury in ash. I can’t be whole if I cut her out. I am both. Survivor and heiress. Scar and crown.” Mia leaned against the table, studying me as though searching for cracks. “Isa, do you realize what this means? If you take that name publicly, you’ll be painting a target on your back. Your uncle—”

I've seen this scene a hundred times-glamorous polish-but it now feels strange, like visiting a foreign place where I'm unwelcome. I continue to move through the crowd. Heels click softly on marble floors; my eyes scan the faces, searching for him. I am witnesses to all sorts of smiles, conversations, and sadly, none belong to him. My heart beats faster with each passing second, while the silence within me grows louder. Where is he?

A girl I barely remembered from a yoga class once commented on one of my ancient I*******m posts with: “Wait. Is your son THE Wolfe heir?” I stood in Lucien’s penthouse kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts, barefoot and completely overwhelmed. Leo, on the other hand, sat at the island with a banana pancake and a crown made of napkins he’d proudly taped together. Completely unbothered. “Mommy,” he said between bites, “what does ‘heir’ mean?” I blinked. “Where did you hear that?” “On TV.” He shrugged. “Some lady with a lot of makeup said I’m the Wolfe heir. Do I have to wear a crown now? Is it heavy?”