Novel & Cerita The Perfect Heiress: It's My Turn To Claim Everything

It was made to commemorate their collaborative brand's first appearance at Plavas Fashion Week. Hearing that only made Emily's eyes burn red with hatred. "The dress honestly looks pretty average." She came close to my ear, her voice low and sinister, sounding like a hissing snake. "But if it's yours, I just have to take it." The next second, she adopted a pitiful, tearful tone. Tilting her head, she threw herself into Derek's arms. "Derek, everyone says I'm a fake heiress and that I don't deserve anything…"

She rushed towards the door and pushed it widely until she was inside the empty apartment completely. “What’s this?” she queried while looking around. Her face contorted as her eyes landed on the blanket and pillows scattered on the ground. “Is this your place? Are you just just pretending to be an heiress?” she scowled at her. Margaux didn’t know what was running in her mind. She might think she was really poor and an orphan like they believed she was when she married Hendrix. But she had no plan to correct her at all. Her ignorance will be her bliss and humiliation at the same time.

Chaewon said, voice hollow. He stared at her. “What?” “She’s wearing a harness under the gown,” Chaewon whispered. “A decoy bump.” “She’s not pregnant,” Jian said. “She’s buying time.” Chaewon’s gaze darkened. “She’s building a narrative. Softening the world. The heiress who ran. The mother who returns. She’s about to take my story and repackage it for an empire.” “Why now?” “She’s activating her inheritance,” Chaewon replied. “Because someone just confirmed it was never me.”

After settling a dispute involving the family's overseas shipping routes, I boarded the Royal, a gambling cruise ship bound for Sicellia, with the family's confidential ledgers and handover documents. I kept a low profile, intending to complete the handover without drawing any attention. Antonio Greco, the family's longtime butler, had reserved a penthouse suite with panoramic ocean views for me. However, just as I finished checking in, an unfamiliar woman pushed open the door and strode inside. "I want this room. Pack your things and get out." I held up my booking confirmation. "The reservation is under my name. Breaking into someone else's room and demanding they leave hardly seems

Darrock’s hand comes to my view and he waits for me to take it as he whispers, “Your Grace.” Laughter starts in my belly, bubbling until it is a blown-out guffaw and tears stain my vision. For the next minute, the only sound that can be heard in the hall is that of deranged laughter. I can’t help myself. I always knew I was special, but this…this is simply hilarious. Imagine me, Jessamine Everhart, the mad woman, as heir to the throne of Dawn. To any throne at all. The whole world must have gone insane.

Perfection wasn't a habit; it was compulsion. At the airport, a security agent waved him past the queue, eyes skittering away from his face. Nathan’s reputation preceded him: the 34-year-old who’d outmaneuvered Shell in Jakarta, who’d turned down Forbes interviews, who’d never once been photographed with a drink in hand. The Vanguard heir didn’t “relax”. He optimized.

My blood. I turned to my father, Alpha Theron, desperate for him to step in, to stop this madness. His tall figure loomed beside me, his presence always commanding. Surely, he would defend me, I thought. Surely, he would put Elias in his place and call of this whole thing. But instead, he pulled me behind him like I was an embarrassment. I nearly hit the ground. “From this day forward,” my father’s voice boomed, carrying over the chaos, “Anette will take Estelle’s place as heir. She will be the one to marry Elias and inherit my position.”

“By any means possible.” Her words curled like smoke around me, and I felt the satisfaction ignite deep inside. “Everything,” I repeated softly, savoring the promise. “Everything.” She leaned back, her smile turning cruel. “And who knows? Perhaps getting your heir from her at the same time wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She’s the legitimate Kade heiress, married or not. Imagine it: her child, carrying your blood, your name. An heir who would be both Kade and Bomer. The ultimate claim.”

she stuttered, her voice shaking, hands trembling so hard she knocked over her water glass. Water spilled all over Margaret's designer shoes. No one moved to clean it. I tilted my head, watching her. "Why?" I asked calmly, looking at her as if I were watching a clown perform in a circus. "Why should I turn it off?" I took a slow step toward her. "Isn't this your masterpiece? You should be proud. Three years, Tiffany. Three years you painted yourself as a princess with my family's money." She backed away, bumping into the conference table.

"I’ve always known that. I know you don’t really like me." "That’s not..." "You look at me like I'm a chore you're forced to complete. And I know you probably disliked me even before you met me," she continued, her voice shaking despite her effort to keep it steady. "Because of what you might have read about me, What people said 'The rebellious heiress'. I know you had your opinion formed already." His jaw tightened. He looked at her for just a brief moment, something unreadable flickering across his eyes. He didn't offer a defense or an explanation, he just turned back toward the door.