The Wrong Heiress Novels & Stories

So they were fully aware of the fact that I had concealed my identity to approach Zac. The chat quickly erupted with complaints: “A Quinn family illegitimate daughter calling herself an heiress? Seriously?” I corrected them: “Not an illegitimate daughter—she’s his niece, and there’s no blood relation.” The chat went silent for a moment before replies started flooding in. “A mistress acting this bold? Just watch me expose everything about her.” “The Mason heir is still the better option! He’s from a prestigious family, polite, humble, and miles ahead of that arrogant Zac Quinn!”

And that someone used to be Shane Ryder until Clare claimed him as hers. That night was one of the worst ones I’ve ever experienced. So I push the thought to the back of my mind. Clare is still talking my ear off about how amazing everything looks when two girls walk towards us and I immediately want to run away. It’s Megan Rose and Eden Park, Clare Haistings friends. They both look absolutely amazing in their matching satin oval green dresses and strappy heels. They’ve always matched and I thought it was childish at first then I realized that Clare encourages it only because she looks like a main character when she’s with them.They are mean girls that Clare uses to hide behind in order to k

She knew exactly what she did, every second of it, and her body still remembered too, the traitor. She slid out from under his arm an inch at a time, holding her breath like that was gonna help. His fingers twitched. Settled. She froze, counted to five in her head, then kept moving. Her skirt was twisted halfway around her hips. Her blouse was buttoned wrong, one off all the way up, so the collar sat crooked like a kid had dressed her. And her hair, God, she didn't even wanna think about her hair. One shoe by the couch. The other one? Gone. Vanished into the void.

"I haven't, why not tell me about it…" Imelda hissed out so loud glaring at the woman she ever regrets having a a mother. "The Zoren's family are inviting everyone to the welcome back ceremony of their Heiress…" she announced. Candi got on her feet forcefully, her eyes widened in great shock. "That must not be true, it can't happen… who the heck is the fucking heiress?" She screamed. Imelda let out a mocking smile. "Screaming won't solve the matter. The worst part of it, is that the Heiress is my maid…"

he added, adjusting his necktie. Huh? How come he knows those details? I raised my eyes up at him,and he sighed. "You're an unusual heiress. And,I am more interested in unusual people."he stated sternly. I nodded, reluctantly. "Shall...we call it a night then?" "Sure. You should change out of that awful dress, it's an eyesore."his breath ruffles. I was even more perplexed. His tone sounds as that of an anger. I tried to change the topic.

He, as well, was in utter disbelief. “That's impossible. Her name doesn't say Montello on her identification card!” Wilma muttered. The guests surrounded them all scowled at her, wondering if she knew the heiress. “There's a rumor circulating around back then. It said that Don Geromino's child was using a fake name so she could freely go outside and travel anywhere she wished to without having any trouble. It seems that the rumor was true after all,” others chimed in. Their attention went back in front when Margaux started speaking, completely ignoring Wilma, who seemed to be hyperventilating already. All of them were in awe as they found the heiress not just gorgeous and stunning but very a

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Bernard was equally as upset as his wife, but he realized his wife needed more support at the moment. “Sofia was my little girl as well. She was our beloved girl. Our kind princess. We should have never allowed her to meet and marry that man. “ That was probably the biggest mistake they had ever made in their life, one they weren’t sure they could recover from. As they were mourning, one of the maid came knocking in their door. They were certain they had ordered them to not disturb them. What could make them break the order? Bernard opened the door and asked the maid what she was doing.

I wanted to call out for help, but a part of me suspected I might be kidnapped, and alerting whoever was holding me might not be the best idea. I slipped on my slippers and stood up, feeling a bit dizzy. My head throbbed, but I managed to move forward. I gripped my hairpin tightly, using it as a makeshift defense. As I stepped out of the room, I took in the grandeur of the mansion. It was huge, even bigger than mine, and beautifully decorated. The walls were painted white, and the hallway was adorned with various art pieces. The opulence suggested that my kidnapper was wealthy, which made me wonder what their motives were because it was clear that they don't need money from me.

Mummy and Sebastian looked at each other. "Catherine Ashford is an antagonist in the current phase of my family's corporate narrative," I said, for Mrs. Adaeze's benefit. "She is the wife of the primary conspirator. Her pre-emption — if that is what this is — suggests she has retained inside information access to their movements." I looked at Sebastian. "You should probably go." Mrs. Adaeze was very quiet.