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Jilted Heiress: Rising From The Ashes

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 885 | Released on: 22/01/2026

ed like he wanted to burn the suit he was wear

extending his hand. "Give

stead, she reached into the folder agai

across the

al document. It

oston

nt of Custom Ver

$1,000

furrowed. "A million dollars? The dres

smooth as silk. "This invoice includes the 'Expedit

" Boston loo

a second. "Once she puts her traitorous body in my dress, it's contaminated. It's trash. I can

fa, finding her voice again. "My niece is dying, and

she was born," Florrie said. "Now

n. "Pay it. Or I ad

anger in his eyes shifted. It cooled. It morphed into somethi

A dry, humo

ever knew you had teeth, Florrie. I always thou

rowled low in his throat, but Bosto

her hair, her eyes. "It's sexy. Much sexier

her skin cr

orial whisper. "Asia... she really is dying. Three month

e smile of a wolf lo

"You keep the money. Keep the beach house. And when

truggled to comprehend the sheer d

my sister to die so I c

just... an obligation. A PR move. You know I don't love her like I love you.

He actual

" he added. "I could visit on weeke

t this time, it was hot. It was

had poured earlier. The ice had melted,

owly. She picke

she was raising a toas

e said, re

the contents

face. That would be t

imed

crotch of his charcoal

aked instantly into the expensive wool, creatin

tly like he ha

yelled, batting at his

ce vibrating with rage, "is f

e sofa. "You assault my so

t Genevieve. "And I'll show them the bruises on my s

liated. The stain was undeniable. He couldn't walk out of the bui

"Get out of my house. Get out of my life. If I ever s

he commande

savage sound, and

ve stumbled backwa

over his crotch with his hands. "You'll die alone

than live with you!"

e. She crumpled it into a ball and th

get to pay

Chapter End

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Jilted Heiress: Rising From The Ashes

Su Liao Modern

“I stood in the center of my Manhattan penthouse, staring at the empty satin hanger where my custom Vera Wang gown should have been. It was a masterpiece of silk and pearls that had taken six months to perfect for my wedding to the billionaire heir, Boston Travis. Then my phone buzzed. Boston's voice was a flat line, devoid of the love he'd promised me for four years. "The wedding is off, Florrie. I'm marrying your sister, Asia." He told me Asia was dying of Stage 4 cancer and her "final wish" was to be a bride-wearing my dress. He had sent his security team to my home with a spare key to steal the gown, claiming it was Travis property since his family accounts paid the bill. My stepmother texted me minutes later, demanding I vacate my own beach house so the "dying" girl could have a honeymoon. When I tried to protest, Boston snapped at me. "How could you be so heartless? She's your sister. Have some compassion." They expected me to play the part of the discarded woman while they paraded my life around as a PR stunt. I realized then that Asia hadn't just taken my dress; she had spent her entire life stealing my father's love and my peace, always playing the fragile angel while I was cast as the villain. I didn't cry. I sat at my desk, opened my contacts, and relabeled Boston Travis as "TARGET." If they wanted a tragic story, I would give them a massacre. I reclaimed my mother's multi-million dollar trust, seized the deed to the beach house, and walked into Asia's hospital room with a lit sparkler to expose the truth behind her "terminal" illness. As I slapped Boston in the hospital lobby in front of a dozen recording iPhones, I realized I didn't need a husband. I needed a clean slate-and I was going to burn their empire to get it.”