The Wrong Heiress Novels & Stories

And. “And the fourth,” Julian said softly, watching me count. “The fourth was never a Hart, Mrs. Hart, and that is the punchline of your magnificent life. Rosa’s ledger... the real one, not the Swiss one... lists the night’s deliveries in order of price. Clara: kept, then drowned. Celeste: sold to the highest bidder, who was Eleanor, though Eleanor never knew the seller was her own nurse. Me: retained as an investment. And you...” He opened the freezer. Frost exhaled like a held breath. Inside, in organized racks, were hundreds of labeled vials. On the lid, taped in plastic, a ledger page. “You were the overage. The fourth heartbeat nobody ordered. Adrian did not want you. My father did not

May⁠a acce‌pted it wi‌th th‍e so‌lemn dignit‍y of someone rece‍iving a gift. I stood u⁠p and turned back to the mirror and t​hat was when I heard it. ‍One of the other st⁠ylists, a you‌n‍g w⁠oman who had been straightening things‌ near the b‌ack of‍ the r‌oom and clearly t⁠hought she was speaking t‍oo qui‍etly to​ be heard, said‍ something to Bisi. "I hear‍d the las‍t woman h​e brought t⁠o the Whitmore gala was Selene. T‌his is quite a​ change."

It was the first time they had a glimpse of the charming and sweet princess of the Wright empire resembled her brothers' cold fierceness. "We are overly concerned with trivialities. That's bad bad bad" Like a child, Lissie Wright waves her index in the air while facing Shella. Displeased by the spectacle the latter created. Shella stiffens and pales while anxiously gaping at the heiress. Even her staff was dumbfounded. "Have a great day ahead, everyone" after the tense moment. Lissie Wright announces with a smile for everyone. Vague murmurs of greetings resonated from the crowd. Some are still too stunned to respond after their discovery of the heiress's temperament.

The four of us stared at the photocopy of the property transfer agreement, fear written all over our faces. Our ages matched the real heiress. While we had already tried to claim the family, every single one of us ended up dead. So was there really an heiress here? "Is it possible there isn't an heiress here at the orphanage, and you're looking in the wrong place?" Rebecca Vargas cautiously asked Yvette Warren, secretary to billionaire Orson Cox. The smile on Yvette's face never changed. "Mr. Cox already confirmed it. The heiress is here. We just don't know which one of you she is yet."

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

At Cross Meridian’s pre-closing celebration, Mia Foster, an investment manager who had joined the company three months earlier, took the stage and announced that she was about to expose its biggest fraud. Photographs filled the screen behind her. There I was playing golf during office hours, drinking champagne on a private yacht, and attending a jewelry launch while the deal team worked through the night. Then came my attendance record. Twenty-three days in six months. Yet my name stood at the top of the financing round’s contribution report. “Seventy-eight employees have worked themselves into the ground, but she gets the credit because she’s the CEO’s fiancée,” Mia said. “Why should a corp

There was no signed agreement, no transfer of ownership, and no document making Hellen my mother's successor. They mistook my kindness for stupidity. And I intend to correct that mistake. I glance at the photograph one last time. Enjoy your position while it lasts, Miranda. Because the real heiress has finally returned.

Who wouldn't want two women to please at the same time. During his days of college, he had approached Paige, and after a lot of begging, pleading and confessing his love for her only to find out that she wasn't even the heiress to the throne of the Adams's merchandise. He was very agitated to find out that he had been deceived by the Adams's and then went for their own daughter at least, one way or the other he'd benefit from them.

Theodore had already hung up, and the two goons Iris had hired had regained their senses and came looking for her. One of them hurried over and said, "Ms. Saville, we messed up. Jessica Sweeney isn't Mr. Bassett's new girlfriend. She's the heiress of Regal Crest Group." Iris' face darkened as she shot him a furious glare. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" The entire trip had been a waste. Not only was she humiliated, but she had also managed to anger Theodore. "I-I just found out, too," the man stammered.

"Isabella, is this your idea of good manners, pushing people around?" Isabella Taylor crossed her arms, sneering as she asked the young women beside her, "Did you see me push her?" The girls, who owed their presence at the gala to Isabella, exchanged glances and shook their heads. "She clearly lost her balance and has the nerve to falsely accuse others." "An ugly duckling of unknown origins really thinks she's a swan. How laughable." "I heard the real heiress is back. She's got some nerve still hanging around."