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Claimed By The Coldhearted Sterling Heir

Chapter 2 2

Word Count: 890 | Released on: 07/01/2026

tside blurring into streaks of green and gray. In

pace as possible. She was acutely aware of the mud on her feet staini

p and was typing furiously. The blue light from the screen illuminated t

loud, guttural sound that seem

ook up. He didn

lian had called Liam, reached back with a

ed at the water bottle. It was glass. She ha

k name," Julian

lowered the protei

pinning her with those cold eyes. "Faith. It implies blind trust. It implies

," Faith said, a spark of defen

drunk," Julian said. His voice wasn't crue

her. She gripped the water bottl

n front of him and pulled out a document. He

e header read: Petiti

or. "Mr. Sterling selected it. It's one of Jupiter's moons. It's distant, hard to find, b

silent, watchi

letters swam before her eyes. "

ou can sign the paper, or I can have the driver pull over on the shoulde

by at eighty miles an hour. There was no going back.

The metal was warm

he signature line. Faith V

id sharply. "Si

ielding. He was erasing her. He was killing

k a breath that rattled in her

k immediately. He handed the document

her. He held out his h

pocket. The screen was spiderwebbed, held together by t

rs," she said. "M

it t

hand. His fingers brushed he

the button to roll down his window. The wi

over the wind. "It connects you to Ray, to dealers, to every mista

he tossed the ph

, lunging fo

hitting the asphalt and shattering into

screamed, tears finally spill

the noise of the wind. Silence r

is time with a sleek white

e encryption. The numbers you need will be retrieved

e phone was brand new, p

s a generic, high-contrast

grief. "If you keep contact with him, or your stepfather, they will u

een. She wasn't a guest

Chapter End

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Claimed By The Coldhearted Sterling Heir

Youran Qianwu Modern

“I was kneeling on the warped linoleum of my trailer, packing my life into a trash bag, when the predatory purr of a luxury SUV echoed through the thin walls. I thought it was a raid, but it was something much worse. Julian Sterling, a federal prosecutor in a charcoal suit, stepped into the mud and bought me from my alcoholic stepfather. He didn't use cash; he used a list of felonies and a legal settlement to trade my freedom for my stepfather's silence. "Throw it away," Julian ordered, pointing at the bag containing everything I owned. I watched my sister's stuffed bear fall into an oil puddle as he forced me into a world of cold leather and silence. By the time we reached Boston, Faith Vance was dead. He forced me to sign papers changing my name to Elara, erasing my past to fit a narrative of Swiss boarding schools and high-society breeding. The horror didn't stop there. The family patriarch, Arthur Sterling, looked at us with hawk-like eyes and issued a command that turned my blood to ice. To avoid scandal, Julian and I were to be introduced as "Brother" and "Sister." Julian's jaw tightened until a vein throbbed in his temple, and when he finally called me "Sister," the word sounded like a curse. I was a prisoner in a mansion with bars on the windows, caught between a "brother" who loathed my existence and a cousin who tried to assault me in my own room. They dressed me in silk armor and expected me to be a doll, a manageable piece of a legacy I never asked for. I sat at a dinner table worth more than my hometown, swallowing oysters that tasted like salt and iodine, while Julian created a physical barrier between me and the wolves. Under the tablecloth, I reached out and squeezed his clenched fist. His fingers uncurled and captured mine in a grip so crushing it felt like a pact signed in the dark. I have a jagged shard of glass in my pocket and five thousand dollars a month to hoard. Julian says the law is a weapon that breaks weak people, but he's about to find out that I'm not a lamb. I'm a survivor, and I'm ready for the casualties.”