When The True Heiress Strikes Back Novels & Stories

My face tightened. “Nothing Sir,” he replied, his face straightening now. “This would look good on you, sir.” My hands reached for the tie hanging in his hand. “Let me do it,” he stepped forward. As he fastened the tie around my collar, my mind raced. Tonight was all about Ava Thorne, the heiress, who was going to be announced publicly and I had to make a good impression. She had clawed her way back from the grave and everyone who caused her pain should get ready to suffer the consequences.

“What’s it, Nia? Let me get some sleep, okay?” Besides, it was the weekend. “Come on, Anna, you don't understand!” She tossed away the blanket and pulled me out. “The world out there is literally in flames. You’ve got to see this!” I had to force my eyes open and stare at the tablet she was waving in front of me. Through my blurred vision, a news headline popped up. [Annalise Sterling, The Returned Heiress of The Sterling Empire: Is There More to Her Than Meets The Eye?]

Not because there was nothing to say but because everything we could say was too large to fit into words yet. I stared out the oval window, watching darkness swallow the wing, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. Her hair was tangled, her eyes too sharp, too awake. There were faint scratches along her collarbone and wrist—souvenirs from a rooftop where the truth finally stopped hiding. I wasn’t the Hidden Heiress anymore. I wasn’t the substitute. I was the girl whose grandfather had signed her death warrant before she was old enough to understand what betrayal looked like.

He was wrong, and my wolf beneath the skin simmered with irritation, claws flexing just under my nails. Ryan looked at me, calm as ever, and spoke loudly. "There's only one true heiress, yes, but Mrs. Frost gave birth to Serena Frost in the hospital-then, through a cruel twist of fate, the child was swapped. Eighteen years later, she's finally back. The woman before you is the one who lived eighteen years as the false heiress, enjoying privileges she never earned." The doorman's jaw dropped. "So that's why… I thought she was a shameless fraud from the moment I saw her. Turns out she is-and had the audacity to pretend for eighteen years!"

No excessive makeup. Yet the icy aura surrounding her made the entire ballroom feel suffocating. Click. Click. Click. The sound of her heels echoed across the marble floor. And with every step— Selena’s face grew paler. “Ve… Vessara…?” Selena’s smile froze completely. Jason frowned immediately. Mr. and Mrs. Laurent abruptly rose to their feet. Whispers instantly spread throughout the ballroom. “Wasn’t she in prison?” “The fake heiress?” “She actually came back?”

"It means the baby is growing properly." She turns her cold gaze to me for just a moment before focusing back on Natasha. "It's wonderful that true love has finally won. That you've been proven to be the real heiress, the rightful one. Unlike some people who have been living fake lives, trying to steal what didn't belong to them for so many years." The barb lands exactly where Abigail intended, but I keep my hands folded in my lap, my plate untouched before me. Natasha plays her part perfectly, looking uncomfortable with the harsh implication. "Oh, Grandma, I don't want to take anything from anyone. I never asked for any of this."

"I'll get your usual caramel latte with extra whip, right?" I smiled, she remembered. "Yeah." Natalie hurried off, returning minutes later with my drink and a giant blueberry muffin. "On the house," she said, plopping into the chair across from me. "Now SPILL. How does a billionaire heiress end up working a normal job and hiding her identity?" I took a sip of the latte perfect, as always before sighing. "Long story." "We've got time," Natalie said, propping her chin on her hands.

“Watched your mother. Watched how they built you. You were never random, Susan. You were planned.” “You’re insane,” she whispered, inching back. He laughed. Not from amusement. From power. “I’m Artemis,” he said, dragging from his tobacco pipe and blowing the smoke at her face. “I don’t expect you to believe me. But Jamie knows me. Your company? It was mine before you ever stepped into a suit.” Anger surged inside of me. “That’s not possible.” “Oh, it’s more than possible,” he said, stepping forward like a predator. “Jamie was just the puppet. I was the hand behind it all. And Nathan? He wasn’t betraying you. He was sacrificed. Because of me.”

Turning his back to her, Briar’s smile vanished completely as he said coldly, “In all these years, no one has ever dared say something so arrogant to me. Since you insist on arrogance, then pay the price for it.” Mireille’s face went pale. She snapped, “You—what are you trying to do?! ...Ahhh!” A shadow shot out from the darkness like a ghost. The figure wore a mask with a crying expression. With one swift movement, it seized Mireille’s wrist and yanked it sharply— Crack— The sound of bones breaking echoed unnaturally in the rain, followed by a blood-curdling scream. That was the price of Mireille’s arrogance. Standing in the downpour, Briar said impassively, “Throw her out.”

“Exactly. The real heiress kept a low profile for years. Of course she wouldn’t come in shouting about who she was. Freya’s act was way too obvious.” Freya and Chuck froze completely. “No. That’s impossible.” Chuck muttered under his breath. “She worked at my company for years. How could she be the group’s heiress?” Then he seemed to remember something and suddenly turned to Freya. “Wait. Didn’t you have the family pendant? The one you showed us before? “Were you lying to me this whole time? Was that pendant fake?” Freya desperately shot him a look, telling him to shut up. But it was too late. The words had already left his mouth.