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Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress

Chapter 7 No.7

Word Count: 680    |    Released on: 21/01/2026

is of the Kensington family's past. Old chairs, broken lamps. In the

The stuffing was comi

ken it one day, demanding it because she was "sad." Dejah fo

l sadness. She felt a cold, hard

the attic was non-existent, turning the floor into a diaphr

ear to the wood. Her hearing focuse

ll. "Not with Vanderbilt sniffing around. If she disappears

er adoptive father-Robert. "The stocks are tanking. If

s obsessed with health. We show him a happy, healthy family. We charm him. Once the check

rli

et worth: 4 billion. Collector of antiquities. Medica

t was elegant. I

a small tin case. Inside the case were six special alloy needles. She had stolen them from a medical supply s

like a shadow, distributing her weight on the balls of her feet to avoid creaking

years ago. She didn't vault the wall-her knees wouldn't take the impact. I

h of cash-fifty dollars in small bills-from the lining of her sho

red face, leered at her. She stared back, her face hidden in the shadow of a baseball

rk. She walked to a laundromat that had a "

dryer that was out of order. She tapped a rhyt

ung open. It

cked t

air grew hot and thick. The sound

Ba

ggling tunnel turned into a black market. Stalls lined the walls

ap lower. She ne

oward the "J

an in a tailored suit swirled a glass of whiskey.

Nate said, nursin

cted. He pointed down. "Look

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Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress
Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress
“I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my body feeling like a hollowed-out shell. For fifteen years, I had been the "spare part" of the wealthy Kensington family, a foster child kept only as a biological resource for their golden daughter, Jenna. My adoptive mother, Kathryn, walked in with a cold-eyed doctor, discussing me like an old car needing parts. They were planning another bone marrow "harvest" for the next morning, even though the doctor admitted the procedure was risky because my body hadn't recovered from the last extraction. "Passable is fine," Kathryn said, waving away the danger to my life like she was swatting a fly. "Just get it done. It's her only value." Jenna arrived in a wheelchair, putting on a performance of fragile sisterly love while actually glowing with health from the blood I had given her months ago. I watched as the doctor callously jabbed a needle into my arm, missing the vein on purpose, before turning off my pain medication pump as a final act of petty cruelty. They left me there to rot, convinced I was just a dull, submissive girl with nowhere to go. I lay in the silence, feeling the weight of every scrap they'd fed me and every hand-me-down I'd worn while Jenna lived in luxury. I realized I was never a daughter to them; I was an organ farm meant to be drained until I was empty. But as the door clicked shut, the fog of sedation in my brain finally lifted, replaced by a cold, predatory stillness. "Oracle," my mind whispered. "Online." I ripped the IV from my arm and escaped into the night, turning a five-dollar piece of junk into a six-million-dollar fortune in the city's darkest underground markets. By the time I returned to the Kensington Manor, I wasn't the useless foster girl they remembered-I was a predator with a massive bank account and a plan to take back everything they stole from me.”