The Perfect Heiress: It's My Turn To Claim Everything นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"And his date, who is she? She's absolutely gorgeous. It's like she stepped out of a fairy tale, a mix of queen and princess!" "Is she the next big thing, groomed by some entertainment tycoon, debuting at Victoria Garden House today? Just imagine, rubbing shoulders with the elite here could pave her way to stardom, as long as she steers clear of any bad deals." "Could be! However, what if she's the elusive Ms. Foster?" "No chance! Ms. Foster, the heiress of the Foster dynasty, wouldn't fly under the radar. Just look at her, clinging to Mr. James Foster like she's his shadow..."

For her eighteenth birthday, Alicia received a private estate. At eighteen, I was washing dishes in a greasy kitchen sink, my hands raw from labor, scrubbing my way to fund Dominic's critical final year of high school. "She used to call herself a little princess," he said, momentarily lost in the memory. "So the house was designed to resemble a castle." He smiled faintly, but the second his eyes landed on me, the coldness returned. "Since you've chosen to come back," he said coolly, "as the future heiress of the Rodney family, I have a few things to make clear."

she said. "Yup," I replied. "She's an heiress. And it turned out that she looks exactly like me." "Omigosh, really?" she exclaimed with wide eyes. "Yeah…" I said. "One thing led to another, and now I have to be Isabella Domitia while she runs off to happily ever after with her boyfriend." 'Actually, I doubt it's going to be happily ever after,' I thought, thinking of how untrustworthy Elijah was. "But that's where it gets crazy," I added.

“This was also part of his plan. That woman knew she wasn’t your mother. The plan was always to get you in such a state of trauma that he would always have a way to control you anytime he needed to.” “But….why is he so evil? She tormented me all my life… and for what, a few millions?” “Billions, my dove.” My eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Billions???” “Yes. You’re the lost heiress of the Everhart fortune.” He announced, his tone a bit louder at the revelation. “This was your story, and you revealed it perfectly. You and your siblings are the heirs to the generational wealth in our name.”

For three seconds there was silence in the auditorium. Then the room erupted. The reporters were typing furiously on their tablets. The condescension in the room was gone. Now people were scared. They realized that the heiress in overalls was not a figurehead. She was the architect. Silas looked down at Avery. He had a smile on his face. He was proud of her. He reached out under the cover of the podium. His hand gripped hers. They had officially left the yards. The crown was hers. The board belonged entirely to Avery and Silas.

“Exactly. The real heiress kept a low profile for years. Of course she wouldn’t come in shouting about who she was. Freya’s act was way too obvious.” Freya and Chuck froze completely. “No. That’s impossible.” Chuck muttered under his breath. “She worked at my company for years. How could she be the group’s heiress?” Then he seemed to remember something and suddenly turned to Freya. “Wait. Didn’t you have the family pendant? The one you showed us before? “Were you lying to me this whole time? Was that pendant fake?” Freya desperately shot him a look, telling him to shut up. But it was too late. The words had already left his mouth.

She packed the few things that were genuinely hers — the cracked phone, the paint-stained sweater, a small tin of her mother's hairpins that she'd carried in every bag she'd owned since the funeral, because some habits outlived the reasons for them and left the rest of Isabella's borrowed wardrobe folded the way the staff would expect to find it, an instinct toward order that she recognized, with some discomfort, as belonging more to the restoration work she did for a living than to any genuine desire to please these people. The townhouse, when the car finally stopped in front of it, was the kind of building that made the street around it look slightly apologetic for existing — limestone and

In her place, the secret heiress to Vane Holdings, one of the world's most powerful private conglomerates, had finally woken up. ​Walking into my massive walk-in closet, I bypassed the modest, subdued clothing I had worn to blend into the background of the Blackwood estate. Instead, I reached for a sharp, tailored crimson suit. I dressed with meticulous care, pulling my hair back into a sleek, unforgiving style. When I looked in the mirror, the modest orphan Lysander thought he had married was completely gone. I looked like my grandfather. I looked like a Vane. ​When I descended the grand sweeping staircase of the estate, Henri bowed his head in silent approval, his eyes gleaming with recogn

But the burn didn’t ease the knot in his chest. The news flashed on TV. “In breaking news, the missing Hartman heiress has been found alive after twenty-three years…” Adrian froze. The screen showed Evelyn stepping from a black car, surrounded by cameras. “She’s the missing Hartman heiress,” he whispered. Charlotte paled. “That’s impossible.” Adrian barely heard her. Every cruel word he’d thrown at Evelyn echoed in his head. He’d called her a gold digger, said she didn’t belong. Now she was the richest woman in New York.

"She will come to this castle. She will need guidance. She has the power to save both our packs from destruction." My hands trembled so hard the pages shook. Was she writing about me? Then I found a page that made my blood run cold. "My son doesn't understand the danger," Althea wrote. "He works with evil men. They seek the power of the symbols. They have forced a girl named Valerie to marry my grandsons Noah and Neal. They believe she carries the magic. But they are wrong and they will never get realize it because they would have been dead. The true heiress will come later from Moonshade. She is the one we have waited for."