The True Heiress Returns: I Inherit a Fortune

Name: The True Heiress Returns: I Inherit a Fortune
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rabbit

Short stories | Completed

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The once-disgraced imposter, who was cast out, had transformed into the rightful heir of an elite family. She returned with a powerful force, delivering a decisive and overwhelming defeat to her ex-fiancé and the true heiress who had usurped her place.

Betrayal Revenge Billionaires Kickass Heroine Comeback

Chapter 8

09-30 14:22

Chapter 1

It had been ten years since I, Aubrey Harding, was adopted by the Harding family. Now, their biological daughter, Yolanda Harding, was back.

At my adoptive parents' memorial service, my fiancé, Braeden Hewitt, stood right there with Yolanda, demanding I give up my entire inheritance.

"Compared to you, the fake, Yolanda is the true heiress of the Harding family. You don't deserve any of this."

The guests hadn't even all left yet. Tears welled in my eyes. "Today is my foster parents' funeral. Can't we talk about this another day?"

He sneered. "No. It has to be today."

I took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

What he didn't know was that my biological parents were billionaires.

Later, when Braeden's company faced a financial crisis, I just happened to hold my family reunion banquet that same day.

He knelt outside the banquet hall with Yolanda, begging and crying, "For old times' sake, can't you just help me out?"

I just mimicked his expression from that day, a cold sneer on my face. "Nope."

...

The day after the memorial, I started packing.

The Harding family mansion was huge, almost eerily empty.

I'd lived there for ten years, but it always felt like I was just a long-term guest.

My adoptive parents were good to me. They fed me, clothed me, sent me to the best schools, but there was always this invisible wall between us.

Braeden was the only one in those ten years who ever made me feel truly accepted.

Now, looking back, it was all a joke.

My belongings didn't take up much space. A single suitcase was enough.

At the doorway, I took one last look back.

In the living room, Yolanda was leaning against Braeden, ordering the housekeeper to throw out everything I'd ever used.

"All that junk? So dirty. Get rid of everything. Don't leave a single thing."

Yolanda's voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the room.

I stopped but didn't turn around, just seared that humiliating scene into my memory.

Lupita Wilson, the housekeeper who'd been there all ten years I had, wanted to help me with my suitcase, but Yolanda snapped at her.

"Lupita, get it straight. Who runs this house now?"

Lupita's hand froze mid-air, her face etched with discomfort.

Braeden, his arm around Yolanda's waist, walked over and looked down at me.

"Aubrey, don't make a scene by hanging around. It's pathetic."

His voice dripped with undisguised disgust, like the very carpet beneath my feet would be tainted by my presence.

I lifted my eyes, looking past him to Yolanda.

"Ms. Harding, excuse me."

Yolanda bristled like a cat whose tail got stepped on. She tightened her grip on Braeden's arm, puffing out her chest in a defiant pose.

"Braeden's my fiancé now. You should probably remember that."

Yolanda gloated, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face.

Braeden seemed to dig her act. He pinched her cheek, then coldly held out his hand to me.

"Actually, hand over the ring. It doesn't belong to you."

He meant the engagement ring on my finger.

I looked down and slowly slid the ring off my finger.

The cool metal was gone, leaving just a faint red mark behind.

Just as they probably thought I'd humbly hand it over, I flicked my wrist. The ring spun through the air, a cold, shiny arc, and landed in the garbage bag at Yolanda's feet. The bag was full of "my junk."

"Ding!" The sound was sharp and jarring, like the death knell for my ridiculous past.

"That seems like the right place for it," I said.

Braeden's face turned dark with anger. He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.

"What the hell is your problem?"

His grip was tight, like he wanted to crush the bones in my arm.

I didn't fight it. I just looked at him calmly, like he was a complete stranger.

The face I once had a crush on was now just twisted and ugly. I barely even felt the pain in my wrist, just a wave of pure disgust.

"Let go. Anything you've touched feels dirty to me too."

He seemed thrown by my reaction, hesitating for a second.

I used the chance to pull my hand free, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out that door that had held me captive for ten years, without a backward glance.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Braeden.

"Leave the key under the doormat. Don't even think about taking anything that isn't yours. You came with nothing, so don't be greedy on your way out."

I read it, deleted it, and blocked his number.

Immediately after, a call came in from an unknown number.

I answered. A respectful, steady male voice spoke on the other end.

"Ms. Harding, the car is waiting for you out front. Sir and Madam have been waiting for you for a very long time."

I took a deep breath, pushing down the tightness in my throat.

"Okay. I'm coming out now."

Settling into the sleek black Bentley, I finally let the tears fall.

After ten years, I finally woke from the dream of living at others' mercy.