Vanessa Cage Net Worth Novels & Stories

Vanessa Hale, the woman who planned luxury weddings for billionaires and laughed at romance clichés, suddenly had no idea what she was getting herself into. But she couldn’t help thinking… maybe, just maybe, this scandal wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

Tracy POV I sat in my cell at Sacramento Women's Correctional Facility, staring at the newspaper article about Vanya's appearance on The Today Show discussing her experience as a victim of conspiracy and fraud. The headline read "From Housewife to Business Empire: How Vanya Reed Survived False Accusations and Built a National Brand." In the photo, Vanya looked confident and successful, wearing a beautiful navy suit and her signature jewelry designs. The article described how Goddess Jewelry had expanded to fifteen states and was being featured in major fashion magazines across the country.

Seeing this, Gina cast a pleading look at Vanessa. "Vanessa, you're the reason why the bag got wet… You should settle this with Juliette." Vanessa's eyes widened in shock, scowling as she stared at Gina. Glancing at my bag, she snapped, "How should we know whether your bag is real or fake? Are we supposed to just take your word? In that case, I can also say mine is worth 30 million dollars! "Besides, so what if it's really worth over 20 million dollars? Once my dad shows up, he'll help me!"

"Press play, Harlow. It is your greatest hits." I grabbed the phone before Harlow could touch it. On screen, paused, was Radiant. Room four. Harlow on her knees. Me behind her. My stomach turned over. "Two million dollars," Vanessa said. "By the twenty eighth. Or that goes to every news desk in Pittsburgh, your father's board, and that cute little mommy blog Harlow follows." "Get out," I said again, lower. "Or what," Vanessa said. "You will hit me. In front of witnesses. In front of your pregnant girlfriend. Go ahead, Kael."

“She’s been ghost for three years. You said she was in rehab!” “She was,” Alec said. “I paid for it. I buried her scandal. But I should’ve buried her deeper.” ⸻ Vanessa took the mic from Zara, her smile smooth as honeyed cyanide. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you don’t know is that this ‘independent designer’ standing beside me didn’t build this brand alone. She was funded by a ghost—my ghost.” Gasps rippled through the audience. “She’s the face,” Vanessa continued. “But he”—she pointed to the screen—“is the money. Alec Blackwell. My fiancé. My investor. And my unfinished business.”

Through the crowd, I saw Richard lurking in the building’s shadow. No surprise there. He never could support the household with his wages before; I’d been paying for everything, giving them a good life. Of course, he wouldn’t let a cash cow like me go. Without his planning, Vanessa wouldn’t have dared do this. Vanessa tugged my sleeve again. “Hurry. Give me some money. I’m not asking for much—just two million. Give me two million, and I promise I won’t trouble you again.” “Really shooting for the stars, huh?” I muttered.

5 billion? " Yes," Vera said. " Mrs Johnson is worth over $4.2 billion. She was wise to share her money to her staffs and some cancer research donation stuffs. I don't really know much about those ones but that's what she did. When she dies, you'll inherit the $2.5 billion."

The lens scanned Jenna's face, and within seconds, a transparent overlay appeared in my field of vision, displaying her real name and other details. I quickly skimmed the information, taking in the key points. Her real name was Violet Paige. She worked as the CEO of a multinational corporation, a position of power and influence. She was 36 years old, married, and had no children. Her net worth was an impressive $50 million. I felt a thrill at the thought of conquering such a powerful and successful woman.

But thankfully, Hazel did remind her about the check she prepared. Vanessa put her hand on her handbag and was about to take out the check when Hazel said to her as if she was consulted, “But if it’s a check, it’s at least a seven-figure sum, right? Joshua is very generous, and his girlfriend’s position is worth such an amount. If it’s less than eight-figure, it’s a bit embarrassing and not very attractive.” Vanessa’s fingers froze. The Young family had just come through the crisis, and she didn’t have that much money. This check for Hazel was only a few hundred thousand dollars.

She argued. “Okay, Miss Vanessa. There's no way I'm going to force you into something you don't like. Even though I'll very much like this ship to sail. That's by the way. I wasn't expecting to see you at home this morning.” I snuggled fully into the couch. “I took the day off. The CEO deserves her much desired rest.” She waved her hand, barely sparing me a glance, before focusing her attention on her phone once again. Nessa, better still known as Vanessa Davis in the socialite world, was a popular fashion designer. Patronized by the rich and who-mattered-in-America, she made her mark without depending on her identity as a heiress.