The Perfect Heiress' Biggest Sin Mga Nobela at Kwento

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.

"You know, Gina, no matter how much money you have, you still don’t fit the position of an heiress." I tilted my head. "Oh? And why is that?" "Because," Julian said, stepping closer, "an heiress should be graceful. Elegant. Refined. Not a power-hungry woman who’s desperate to prove something." I chuckled, shaking my head. "Ah, Julian. Still bitter, I see. Let me guess—you thought you’d seen the last of me?" He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I was hoping." "Well, sorry to disappoint you," I said, feigning sympathy. "But as you can see, I’m very much alive. And unlike you, I don’t need anyone’s approval to be where I am."

“Sentiment is for the weak, Lucas. Control is everything. You take what you deserve, and you make the world see it your way.” “I hope you’re happy,” I said, tracing the engraved letters of his name. “I’m close. So close to achieving everything you wanted. I need your prayers, or whatever it is you’ve got up there. After all, you said prayers are for weaklings.” I let out a short, frustrated breath. “They won. The court case. They managed to vindicate her father. Cleaned up the old man’s name.” A hot spike of anger shot through me. That should have been my leverage. That scandal should have been the wedge to finally break Alexander's perfect life and reputation.

His question was sudden and unexpected, knocking me out of my senses for a few seconds. "What the hell?" I yelled in his face. "Do you fuck him? Is Chase Sinclair your lover? How dare you disgrace the Valentino empire by skanking around with Chase fucking Sinclair, my fucking nemesis?"" "How is that any of your business? So what if I was fucking him? It's my business to know and none of yours. And the Valentino empire will go on just fine with or without my affair because you, dear husband, value your fucking empire above everyone and everything else" I retorted.

His grip was tight, anger radiating off him. I yanked my hand free, taking a step back to avoid him. My eyes moved to her—the woman in the strapless dress who was supposed to be marrying the man who’d destroyed me. She met my gaze with a smug smile, like she didn’t have a care in the world, like nothing I could say or do would crack her perfect little world. It only made me angrier. Turning toward the crowd, I let my voice carry as I swung my gaze back to Roy. “Did you think you could knock me up and then marry another bitch?”

Julia was a whirlwind of humiliation and fury, her eyes bloodshot. She was the beloved Rearden heiress, the entertainment world's violin prodigy, and Walter's untouchable angel. She could not possibly degrade herself by engaging with such a coarse woman from the sticks. She must not lose her composure in front of Walter. With a pitiful gaze, she turned to him, "I'm so sorry, Walt. I shouldn't have come today." At least she knew Walter was on her side. She would let Evangeline carry on with her vulgarity. After all, Walter despised that sort of woman above all else.

she said, “they are going to hate me more when I show up looking like this beside you.” I smirked. They were going to have a fit and that was certain. Afterall, their numerous candidates could never beat Estelle's ethereal beauty. “You're right,” I said with a smile, offering her my arm to hold onto like a gentleman. She took it grudgingly and we walked across the large hallway to the entrance of the banquet hall. We waited for the butler at the door to announce our presence. “The Alpha, Zen Xerxes of The Bloodfang pack and his companion, Princess Estelle,” I smiled at the butler, tipping him a gold coin as I passed him.

Useless fools who don't deserve to live! I always knew she wasn't simple, ordinary girl. There must be something else. And guess what? That slut was the heiress of the Valler organization, her brother the most powerful man alive. Tsk. They just had to make things even more complicated. But I will never give up, I will never admit defeat, I will never bow down to that Valler wench! I'll suck my blood and dry my bones until the moment I lay my eyes on the devil dragging her to hell. Give up my glory? Hah! OVER. MY. DEAD. BODY.

“Enough. Ciara is the O’Connell heiress. Not Isolde. Ciara is this family. She carries the blood, the name, the legacy. You forget yourself when you speak otherwise.” Silence fell, heavy and absolute. My sons looked to me, but I could not deny the truth. Ciara was the heiress. Isolde was only ever a shadow. I leaned back, the decision carved into stone. “So be it. Tomorrow, she leaves for Italy.”

“Bro, remember the Voice of the Night we saw yesterday? Guess whose car that was?” Hindi man lang siya nilingon ni Gabe. “Definitely not yours.” “Exactly! It’s Luna’s the Valencia heiress herself!” Saglit na natahimik si Gabe. Naalala niya ang maliit na batang babaeng minsang naghatid kay Miguel noon sa eskwela, maliit, masayahin, at palaging may dala-dalang candy. Ngayon, nineteen na, confident, successful, at muli nilang makakasama.