Miller's True Heir

Miller's True Heir

Gavin

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I was a ghost in my own home, the late Senator Miller's biological daughter, overshadowed by my adopted sister, Jessica. My stepfather, Governor Thompson, doted on her, giving her my mother's cherished suite, my fiancé, even the "Senator Miller Legacy Scholarship" that was always meant for me. Tonight, at the glittering gala, they finalized the blatant theft. As Jessica preened on stage, accepting my scholarship, a cold resolve solidified in my gut. I walked, not ran, straight to the podium, my worn dress a stark contrast to the opulent crowd. "That scholarship," I stated, my voice clear, "belongs to me." Jessica's perfect victim act launched instantly, tears streaming as she clung to my enraged stepfather. His face turned to stone. "This is not the time or place, Sarah!" he thundered, but I wouldn't move. "She's just jealous!" chorused Jessica's elite circle, labeling me "unhinged." Even Ethan Vance, my supposed future, looked at me with disdain, offering Jessica a supportive smile. Then, the unthinkable: my stepfather's open hand connected with my face, the crack echoing in the stunned silence. "You are no daughter of hers!" he spat, humiliating me. "Jessica is the only daughter I care to acknowledge!" My eyes burned, not from the sting of the slap, but from the searing, public injustice. How could the truth be so twisted, my very identity erased by the man who claimed to protect me? Was I truly going mad, or was this entire world? Just as Governor Thompson threatened to send me away to an institution, the grand ballroom doors burst open. There stood my Uncle Marcus, a decorated U.S. Army Four-Star General, his gaze piercing through the stunned crowd straight to me. My lifeline had arrived, and their carefully constructed lies were about to crumble.

Introduction

I was a ghost in my own home, the late Senator Miller's biological daughter, overshadowed by my adopted sister, Jessica.

My stepfather, Governor Thompson, doted on her, giving her my mother's cherished suite, my fiancé, even the "Senator Miller Legacy Scholarship" that was always meant for me.

Tonight, at the glittering gala, they finalized the blatant theft.

As Jessica preened on stage, accepting my scholarship, a cold resolve solidified in my gut.

I walked, not ran, straight to the podium, my worn dress a stark contrast to the opulent crowd.

"That scholarship," I stated, my voice clear, "belongs to me."

Jessica's perfect victim act launched instantly, tears streaming as she clung to my enraged stepfather.

His face turned to stone.

"This is not the time or place, Sarah!" he thundered, but I wouldn't move.

"She's just jealous!" chorused Jessica's elite circle, labeling me "unhinged."

Even Ethan Vance, my supposed future, looked at me with disdain, offering Jessica a supportive smile.

Then, the unthinkable: my stepfather's open hand connected with my face, the crack echoing in the stunned silence.

"You are no daughter of hers!" he spat, humiliating me.

"Jessica is the only daughter I care to acknowledge!"

My eyes burned, not from the sting of the slap, but from the searing, public injustice.

How could the truth be so twisted, my very identity erased by the man who claimed to protect me?

Was I truly going mad, or was this entire world?

Just as Governor Thompson threatened to send me away to an institution, the grand ballroom doors burst open.

There stood my Uncle Marcus, a decorated U.S. Army Four-Star General, his gaze piercing through the stunned crowd straight to me.

My lifeline had arrived, and their carefully constructed lies were about to crumble.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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