The True Heiress Strikes Back Novels & Stories

" He said and walked away hastily, leaving me to regret my outburst. Why did I have to say that? It was none of my business. *** It was time for the party, and I stared at my dress laying on the bed. A black corset gown, embroidered with pearls. It felt odd. Dressing up after all that time. It wasn't for him. I wasn't dressing up for Zayn. I tried hard to convince myself that I wasn't. He got me the dress and suggested the whole dating and party thing. I was just playing along, right? "It isn't real, Cielle... This is all a game, a plot to get back what was taken away from you." I muttered to myself as I took off my bathrobe.

I held back my tears and shouted defiantly, "Skyrise Group belongs to Grandma. I'm the real heiress of the company!" Bang! Before I could catch my breath, Bobby smashed my head against the glass wall again. He continued shouting furiously. "Cindy, quit dreaming. I already gave Skyrise Group to Tina as her wedding gift last year. Whoever marries her will inherit the company!" His words sent a wave of shock through the entire crowd. Everyone's eyes lit up as they stared at Tina. At that moment, a commanding voice came from behind me. "Bobby, I dare you to say that again. Who did you just claim is the heiress of Skyrise Group?"

“They share the same birthday because they were switched at birth. The real heiress lost everything, became an orphan at five, and spent ten years in an orphanage before being found. And yet, every year after that, she was pushed into the background while the imposter stole the spotlight!” “Right! And at that same party, the fake heiress ‘accidentally’ fell into the pool with her! In her own family’s pool! I’m starting to think she pushed Fiona in on purpose!” “They claimed the real heiress tried to end her life, but if she truly wanted to, she would’ve done it long before now! Why on her birthday of all days? And she’s wheelchair-bound—how could she possibly harm a fully abled adult? Clearl

The flash of cameras hit me before the chauffeur even opened the car door. I stepped out of the black Bentley in a deep emerald-green satin dress that hugged my curves like it was made just for me. The high slit on my dress revealed just the right amount of skin I wanted and my matching heels clicked against the driveway of the Grand Royale Hotel like I owned the place. My hair flowed down my shoulders, and my makeup was subtle, powerful, perfect. Enough to remind the world I wasn’t the same girl who got cheated on.

Then he exclaimed, “Fifty million going once? Fifty million going twice, fifty million going thrice!- Congratulations! This pretty lady in a silver dress will now be the possessor of this set of jewelry.” Many people had joined the bidding, but only one winner emerged. No one could believe their eyes or ears, especially Lucas Harrison and the girl sitting beside him who looked ghastly pale. “No way! She can't afford that money.” “But she just did! Who exactly is she?” “Oh, she's Heidi. Heidi Olsen. How could they think that they could contend with the wealthiest heiress in Phoenix City?” The man who spoke was the same middle-aged man who just uncovered Heidi's identity.

If Maeva flinched or lashed out, the entire global market would watch the Sterling heiress abuse a victim in real-time, destroying her company by midnight. "Strike me!" Liora screamed, tears welling in her eyes as she took another aggressive step forward. "Show the world what you are! Show them how you and Kasen abuse anyone who stands in your way!" Maeva didn't flinch. She didn't raise her hand, and she didn't look at the camera. With slow, agonizingly calm steps, she turned her back on Liora. She walked over to the gilded sink. She turned on the gold faucet, letting the warm water hum through the quiet room. She took a pump of expensive lavender soap, washing her hands as if she were clean

"That's enough!" Derek suddenly yelled, glaring at me with pure contempt. "Let me tell you the truth—I'm the heir of the Astor family. When my parents get here tomorrow, forget a few dozen—I could give you hundreds! Thousands! You're nothing but a pathetic loser. Who are you to humiliate me?" With that, he shoved past me and ran out. Estelle's face darkened as she snapped at me, "Happy now? You really did hit your head. Now nobody's happy. Just pack your things and come with me!"

The banquet did not end because of this episode. Instead, it became even livelier. However, I knew Sienna would never let this go. Soon enough, new pop-up messages appeared. [The Harlow parents are actually giving the family heirloom to the fake heiress!] [My God, they're not even pretending anymore. They favor the real heiress openly but secretly prioritize the fake heiress in everything?] [I feel so bad for her! She should just destroy the heirloom. After all, it'll become the key weapon the fake heiress uses to bring her down later.]

An Ashbourne property had changed hands within months of my mother's death, buried deep enough that a daughter looking fifteen years later would never find it, would give up long before reaching this exact page. Eleanor dies. I get declared unstable. I disappear into a hospital no one visited for fifteen years, not once, not a single card or phone call in all that time. Claire becomes the Grant heiress in my place, wearing a name and a life that had never belonged to her, stepping into rooms that should have been mine to walk into. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, quietly, methodically, an Ashbourne asset changes hands, moved by someone who understood exactly how much attention a gr

“So what do I do?” He looked at me, voice low and firm. “You outsmart her. You outlast her. And when the dust clears, you’ll still be standing. But not if you keep playing defense.” I nodded slowly. I would not go quietly. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That night, the press exploded with headlines: SIERRA MONTROSE: THE RIGHTFUL HEIR RETURNS MONTROSE LAWYERS SWITCH ALLEGIANCE…..“THE LEGACY BEGINS ANEW” ELENA CREST: FALLEN QUEEN OR FIGHTING PHOENIX?