The Real Heiress Doesn't Forgive Novels & Stories

Molly Landry, our neighbor's daughter, has been living off my family's money while pretending to be some generous rich girl. At school, she gets the entire class to turn on me. They shut me out and bully me. When the class fund goes missing, Molly frames me for stealing it. Then she takes the accusation online and makes me out to be a thief. The internet tears me to shreds, and my reputation is destroyed. But Molly still isn't done. She teams up with my family's driver to steal confidential company files and sell them to a competitor. Our company goes bankrupt, and when the creditors come after us, my entire family is brutally murdered. Meanwhile, Molly builds her entire online persona

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.

BLURB Elara has spent eighteen years at the bottom of her pack. She is an orphaned Omega with no wolf, and she scrubs the floors of people who step on her hands. On her eighteenth birthday the Moon Goddess gives her a mate: Callum, the Alpha's son and the only person who has ever been kind to her. Within minutes he rejects her in front of the whole pack and claims the Beta's daughter instead. Heartbroken, Elara runs into the night and collides with a brooding stranger who tells her to take her crying somewhere else. They trade insults. Neither can ignore the heat between them. Then an elderly man sees her face and calls her by a name she has never heard: Elara Vale. She is the stolen dau

I wanted that to be perfectly clear to every person who might ever think of it. I stopped breathing. A foundation, not a brother, and not a cousin. Cornelius had not simply stolen a child. He had stolen a child whose disappearance would have given him nothing, and I turned my head slowly toward the doorway. His face had gone gray. His hand gripped the frame so tightly that the knuckles stood out like bone, and I saw that he had not known. For twenty years he had believed he was the heir to an empire, and he had never read the sentence that told him he was only a keeper.

"I went to her‍." I stared at her. "You went to Kia‍ra,"⁠ I said.‌ "Yes." "Whe‌n?" "Three​ weeks ago,‌" sh‌e said. "I gav​e her what I had. What I should​ have given so‌meone a very long​ time ago." Sh⁠e straightened in her chair.​ "⁠Sh‌e​ did not forgive me. I‍ did not ask her to. But she listened, and‌ she is n⁠ot a small person,⁠ a​nd she is building s‍ome⁠thing that‍ is going to outlas‌t everything‍ yo⁠u a‌nd Rafael have b⁠een trying to do." Sh​e p‍aused. "Come ho⁠me, Dylan​.‍ Get out o​f the car‍. Stop⁠ dri​v‌ing around with a gun in the glovebox like‌ a m​an who has run out of ideas‌."

I was a stickler for rules. When I was in elementary school, we were supposed to vote for class president, but the teacher simply appointed the principal's daughter instead. Hence, I followed the school rule that whoever received the most votes would win and brought all 42 students to the principal's office to hold a proper vote. After I started working, my boss handed me a 1,500-dollar invoice and told me to claim 15,000 dollars in expenses. I told him that wasn't allowed under company policy, but he said that, in this company, the boss' word was the only rule that mattered. "You need to learn to be flexible," he claimed. "Otherwise, the company may as well replace you with someone more obe

she shrugged dismissively, and a fire ignited in my chest. Just sex? With my fiancé? In my pajamas? Her eyes glinted, “What's with that look?” Slowly, realization mixed with the mockery as she laughed “You bumpkin. Don't tell me you really think you're Lucas' future wife? That you can so easily forget what you really are!? What do you owe me?!” My teeth grated against each other. I didn’t need her to remind me. Vanessa Caldwell. To the public, we call each other sisters, but everyone in the circle knows what's going on. I'm a fake. She is the real one. The true heiress of the Caldwell family.

Her tone was so eager and smug that I could not believe I had never noticed it before when I had trusted her blindly. I answered flatly, “Of course, I told them. But Mom and Dad said I’ll always be their precious daughter, and Peter almost cried. He even took out a pearl necklace worth several hundred thousand dollars from an auction to keep me.”

"You keep underestimating me and it'll be your downfall." The certainty in her voice sends a chill down my spine. She’s not bluffing. She genuinely believes she can make evidence vanish and the worst part is, she probably could. "If only you'd put this much effort into studying—" I force my voice to stay steady, making sure every word hits."—you'd have gotten so far in life by now and maybe you would have found happiness." I pause, letting my gaze drift over her designer clothes, her perfectly styled hair, the expensive jewelry adorning her wrists and neck. All of it is bought with my parents' money. All of it stolen from the life that should have been mine alone.

And nobody can take away from that. I closed my eyes, listening to Alexander's steady pulse under my ear and the brilliance of the ballroom lights behind my lids. I realized then that my inheritance was more than simply money; it was the ability to change the course of history, open doors, and rewrite the rules. And by placing every bid tonight and funding every scholarship, I had shown to the world—and to myself—that the heiress's real strength was not her wealth but rather her belief in making a difference in people's lives.