The Real Heiress Doesn't Forgive Novels & Stories

Isabella cursed inwardly. So this was one of the so-called elite. She recognized him now—Williams Edinburgh. Chairman of Crown Real Estate. Rank: tenth on the rich list. Reputation: disgusting. As expected. He reached for her again. This time, with more force. He was already dragging her toward the couch when— A hand landed on her shoulder. Cold. Steady. Familiar. Before she could react, she was pulled back— —and the next second, she was pressed into a firm embrace.

“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.”

I rushed toward it and pulled the curtains back, but the glass was reinforced and the latch was locked from the outside. I was on the second or third floor, overlooking a sprawling, manicured garden. Escape wasn't going to be as simple as a climb. "Yeah, well, tough luck!" Ezra’s voice rose again, dripping with a bitterness I hadn't heard from him before. "She wouldn't have believed it either way! You think she’d just sit there and accept that she’s the lost heiress to the Whitmore empire? That her 'mother' was actually her real father’s ex-lover who stole her from her cradle out of some twisted, psychotic jealousy!?"

Her main character's energy shattered the moment it was weighed against genuine talent and accomplishment. She stared at me, her gaze burning with disbelief and venom. The live comment section, after a brief stunned silence, completely exploded. "What the fuck just happened?" "First prize at a national programming competition? And she gets her pick of any top university?" "Wait—Gloria? Wasn't she supposed to be the fake heiress? The one that's going to a no-name university?" "This plot twist has me shook." "Mr. Bowman is ignoring the real heiress and only has eyes for the fake one."

He frowned, “watch your tone.” “I asked you a question, Lucas. Don't mess with me.” I replied, with anger burning within me. “Why shouldn't I mess with you? Who are you? You're nothing but a pathetic heiress with nothing in her bank account. No money, no assets. Nothing.” “My child is in Kate. You can't do this to me!” I wailed, “God, you're quite slow.” I blinked.

*So she isn’t even the real thing and was running her mouth off at Leah, talk about hardcore fake* *I always thought that there was something weird with her, a gal ain’t allowed to be that pristine* *Nw, I feel kinda sorry for the mistress who had to lose her man to her* *I feel rather glad for the mistress. I mean, her bf was blind enough to choose the fake heiress over her. It is lyk karma’s dealing wth both wife and husband*

"The world is going to see that Rossi label. They are going to look for you Hannah." "Let them look " I said. I leaned my head against his shoulder. "They will find a woman who works in a press house and buys her bread in the square. They will find a Trust that belongs to a village. They will not find an heiress. The Hidden Heiress died the day I returned the deed to Marco. What is left is me." I felt a sense of freedom. It was as if the last tie to my life had been cut. The long and difficult journey of my past the struggle and the revenge had been reduced to a fact: I was home.

Emily's expression stiffened slightly. Martha continued, voice gentle but edged with sharpness. “Your father has already taken what he needed from the Hilton family. He snatched their fortune and stripped them of their influence. Ava is nothing now.” Emily’s eyes widened. “Mom…” Rose lifted a hand, silencing her. “And you,” Martha said, tapping Emily's cheek lightly, “are the real heiress to the Hilton family’s fortune.” Emily stared, emotions swirling, pride, relief, and a faint guilt she didn’t want to acknowledge.

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.

“That’s not what happened. If what you say is true, if the will was falsified, then why all the conditions? Why come and live with us, why not take it all in a heartbeat?” Maria narrows her eyes at me, looking victorious, like she knows all the secrets of the world. “Why not? They needed time to pin it all on you, didn’t they? To make you look like the villain right when you let your guard down the second you invited her in your bed. And with you gone, she becomes the only heir to the riches.” “And give them all to someone else?” “Just think about it. Who in their right mind travel half the world on a promise of an inheritance that might not even exist?”