The Unexpected Heiress Choices Novels & Stories

Plans on how to get acquitted with the person into winning favouritism would be the next thing on their minds. Through the spotlight in the gathering of hundreds of elites, a lady emerged and sauntered through the crowd in elegance with her every step exuding confidence and allure. A hush fell over the room as a spotlight illuminated the figure gracefully making her way toward the centre stage, Heads turned collectively to catch the shock that first occurred to them. 'The heir was a female?!' They all wondered. "I hereby announce Zoe Oliver, the only surviving granddaughter of Sinclair Francis, as the new heiress to the corporation."

“Note that after everything and the imposter are fished out, she wouldn't go scot-free, punishment would happen and it's not a light one. So, if you know you're not the heiress, speak up now to avoid wasting our time and to avert the punishment.” Just as he said that he looked between Eugene and me, his eyes stayed longer on me as though he was referring to me. Most people here were even looking at me. It's not far-fetched though, most people would see Eugene as the heiress immediately they see her, she looks more professional and all. And I? I just look normal. Though not like a poverty-stricken person, but not as sophisticated as Eugene. If I had been informed beforehand, I might have had

Everyone was thinking the same thing I was—that we were being offered a terrible choice between different types of death. "I'm in," Solace said quietly. "If nothing else, I'd like to die fighting instead of hiding." "Me too," Dovette said. I could feel her looking at me, waiting to see what I'd do. I thought about what Solace had said about being seventeen, about having time to become something. I thought about my mother trying to prepare, trying to save us. I thought about the creatures burning down the fort, moving north with purpose. "I'm in," I said.

I was about to grab the report Casper had just thrown at me when I suddenly saw words floating above Jenny's head. [Finally, this is not the same old real versus fake heiress story. After the female lead goes back to her rich family, she is going to start a romance with the imposter son.] [Real heiress versus imposter son heir. I love this pairing choice.] I was so shocked I stumbled back, and the bullet comments on Jenny's head vanished. I rubbed my eyes, stepped forward again, and the comments reappeared. [So, this is the real heiress's unlucky little victim?]

Something about arguing a hypothetical case together felt more honest than anything either of us had said in front of other people. When class let out we walked toward the door together, close but not touching. For a moment the performance felt unnecessary. Nobody was watching. It was just the two of us and the emptying hallway. Then a voice cut through the noise. "Maya. Liam. Got a second?" I turned. A girl from the back row, dark hair pinned up precisely, watching us with an expression I couldn't quite read yet. "I'm Vivienne." I already knew who she was. Everyone on campus did. Daughter of a Cross Holdings board member, a fixture at the events Liam and I now attended together. "I just wan

He didn't look homeless, and one can tell from one glance that he is well-read. The truth is I was not finding any of his questions funny as I felt miserable and pained from all the embarrassment I had earlier encountered. I pulled down my shirt for him to see out of annoyance. “Here it is sir, it is a fucking birthmark and I hate it, I will gladly give you if you want it," I said in frustration. “I'm so sorry to bother you my lady, but I happen to come from London, and this mark of yours is a mark that is mostly associated with the royal family, I think if that mark is real, that you may be a princess,” he said, looking surprised at his own words.

I'm good for business. I clutch my black purse tighter as I make my way to my fiance's doorstep. Asher O’Neill was a better option than the rest. Tall, blue eyes with a muscular build any woman would drool over. Other than my father's selfish reasons, Asher's looks made it easier to agree to this marriage. I'm sure he's no different than the others, a scum with a dick that never stays in his pants.

I was getting ready to bring my girlfriend home to meet my mother when Rosalind Whitehall suddenly went silent. I was starting to panic when a notification popped up on my phone. It was a wedding livestream from a couple with 1,000,000 followers. "Looking back, the laughter and joy of that wedding celebration made it the happiest moment of my life. Mr. Grosvenor, I'm counting on you for the rest of my life." "We promised that once we hit 1,000,000 followers, the groom would finally show his face. A promise is a promise." In the video, Rosalind stood in a wedding dress and gently exchanged rings with a man. Our mutual friends flooded the comments. [Five years, and we finally got to watc

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.

“Ryan, I” “Oh, you didn’t hear?” another voice cut in. Livia. Elara’s expression immediately hardened. Her stepsister walked toward them slowly, her heels clicking softly, her face glowing with amusement. “Hear what?” Ryan asked, glancing between them. Livia let out a soft laugh. “That she’s not the heiress,” she said simply. Silence. Ryan blinked. “What?” Elara felt her stomach drop. “Livia, stop” she tried to say.