Lost Heiress of the Belfort Brothers
"Adrian, why would you lie to me? Why would you let her push my mum like that?"
Yvonne's voice trembled, holding back tears.
Adrian smirked. "Wake up, Yvonne. You really thought I wanted you when Tricia was right here?"
That was how Adrian-her first crush, the boy she thought cared-chose to humiliate her in front of everyone as she was the cleaner's adopted daughter.
But fate had other plans.
Because the Diamond Belfort brothers-the heirs everyone adored were coming to their school in search of their missing heiress- baby sister. But the queen bee steals the chance that should have been hers. Then again, secrets don't stay buried forever. With her true identity waiting to explode, Yvonne must decide to rise from the ashes, claim her place, and bring down everyone who tried to destroy her.
Because the real heiress doesn't beg.
She takes rather.
Now, Yvonne is done playing small. It's her time to rise, reclaim her crown, and make everyone regret ever doubting her.
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Chapter 5
Yvonne's POV
As soon as we got to the gymnasium, the noise inside could've shaken the ceiling. Everyone was already seated, whispering, buzzing, bouncing on their chairs like we were about to witness the arrival of actual royalty. The principal tapped her mic, clearing her throat until the place quieted down a little. Then she smiled wide, like she had the juiciest news of the decade.
"Students," she began, her voice echoing across the gym, "please join me in welcoming Gentle, Jack, and Bobby Belfort, heirs to the Belfort fortune, who have generously donated a brand-new wing to this high school."
The principal clapped like she'd just announced world peace, and the whole place erupted in applause. Some kids whistled, some stomped their feet. A girl behind me squealed so loud I thought she might faint.
"Yes, amazing, right?" the principal beamed, soaking in the cheers. "And that's not all. They have gifted each of you with a brand-new iPad."
Gasps and shouts broke out everywhere. Teachers moved down the aisles, handing out shiny boxes. The sound of cardboard being ripped open was almost louder than the clapping.
"I'm never doing homework on paper again!" a boy shouted two rows ahead.
Another chimed in, "Do you think they'll give us free Wi-Fi too?" The place dissolved into laughter and chatter.
"Students!" the principal said, raising her hands. "On that note, I expect you all to show them the respect they deserve."
That was it. The tension snapped back like a stretched rubber band. All eyes glued themselves to the entrance of the gymnasium, the doors like a stage curtain about to lift and the buzz in the air felt almost electric.
And then-they walked in.
The double doors swung open, and Gentle, Jack, and Bobby Belfort strode inside like they had been trained for this moment their whole lives. Their walk was slow, confident, perfectly in sync, like the floor belonged to them. All neck tilted, jaws dropped, and eyes widened as they crossed the aisle. You could practically feel the room holding its breath. Each one of them had that kind of presence you only see in glossy magazine covers-their suits were adorably fitted and their hair styled like it had been blessed by Hollywood itself.
The cheers rose, bouncing off the gym walls. Tricia, especially, was impossible to ignore. She was bouncing in her seat like a toddler on a codeine diet. Her squeals pierced the air, her hands clutching her chest dramatically. And I am quite sure that if someone handed her a fan right then, she would have fainted into it.
When the noise simmered down, the tallest of the brothers stepped forward, his voice smooth but heavy with meaning. "I know you all must be wondering why we chose to come here. Fifteen years ago, our baby sister disappeared."
The gym fell into complete silence, the kind where you could hear a pin drop. "We vowed not to rest until we found her, chasing every lead and never giving up. Now, we finally know where she is, and that is why we are here."
Another brother, the one with sharper features, added, "We have come to bring her home. To bring her back to the family where she belongs."
The third spoke next, his lips curving into a smile that sent more gasps through the girls in the room. "She would be sixteen by now. Blond hair. Outrageously attractive, just like her brothers." The arrogance in his tone made a few kids giggle, but no one dared say anything.
And then the first brother raised his hand, pulling back his sleeve. My stomach tightened instantly. "Most importantly, she has a bracelet. One like this."
Together, all three of them lifted their wrists. Three identical bracelets glittered under the gym lights. And at the moment, it was like my lungs stopped working.
"Oh my God." The words tumbled out of my mouth in the faintest whisper, meant for no one but myself. My fingers trembled on my lap. "That looks exactly like my bracelet."
The first brother spread his arms, gaze sweeping the crowd. "Sis, wherever you are, come on up here. We are waiting for you. Anyone?"
The gym rippled with whispers, heads turning and searching. My chest pounded so hard it hurt. Could it be me? Could I actually be the missing Belfort heiress? My bracelet... it was the only clue I ever had. But now it was gone, stolen by Tricia. My throat burned with panic.
And then, before I could think, my body moved on its own. I rose halfway from my seat, with legs shaking and my knees threatening to buckle. But just as I found the courage to steady myself, a hard shove hit me from behind.
"Shift! Get out of my way, trash." The venom in her voice cut through me.
I stumbled forward, catching myself on the edge of the seat in front. My eyes darted up-and of course, it was her-Tricia. Who else? Her smirk said it all as she strutted down the aisle.
No. Please no.
"Brothers!" she screamed, fake joy spilling out of her like bad perfume. Her arm shot up, flashing a bracelet. My bracelet. The one she ripped from me. My stomach dropped to the floor.
The brothers' faces lit up, unguarded excitement softening their sharp features. "Baby sis!" they shouted in unison, arms opening wide to her.
She launched herself at them, squealing and wriggling like a child reunited with candy. "Brothers!" she cried again, her voice so high-pitched it hurt. She clung to them, milking the moment, tears she didn't have shimmering in her eyes.
"Baby sis, we finally found you. You must have dealt with so much," one of them said, his voice dripping with sympathy.
"Yeah, it's been a trial," she replied quickly, almost sounding like she had it all rehearsed. "But you're here now. And that's all that matters."
Her words were fake, hollow, but nobody seemed to notice. All the students gushed, sighing like they were watching a movie scene.
"Oh my gosh, she's their sister."
"Can you believe it? Tricia Belfort!"
"Her life just changed forever."
I sat frozen, my hands balled into fists so tight my nails dug into my skin. This can't be happening. How could they fall for this? Couldn't they see the way her eyes sparkled a little too much, the way her voice cracked in all the wrong places?
But the brothers only leaned in closer. "We want to spoil you after all these years. So of course, we brought presents. We tried to guess what you'd want, but in the end, we decided to bring everything."
The doors at the side of the gym opened. A line of attendants rolled in racks of glittering clothes-dresses sparkling under the lights, rows of designer shoes gleaming like treasures. Jewelry cases clicked open, dazzling gems shining all over the space. Pictures flashed on the projector and at the lineup that could make anyone dizzy.
"The Belfort family presents," one of the brothers declared proudly, "a new wardrobe straight from the runways of Miami, ten luxury cars to suit every mood, and unrestricted access to the Belfort family jet."
The gym exploded in the other students' cheers here and there.
"Ten cars?!"
"I'd take one! Just one!"
"Imagine having a family jet. Forget college, I'd just fly everywhere."
Tricia's smile stretched so wide it looked painful. "I am just so excited to finally reunite with my family," she said, clutching her chest like she was overwhelmed with love.
I couldn't take it anymore. Anger bubbled in me like lava, threatening to spill over. Every laugh, every cheer for her made me want to scream. But another scene? More humiliation? My chest tightened. No. Not today. Maybe it was better to stay quiet, to swallow the pain and walk away.
So I stood, forcing my legs to move, heading for the exit while everyone else was lost in Tricia's performance. Maybe disappearing would hurt less than watching her steal everything.
But then-
"Yvonne." My mom's voice stopped me at the doors. She had somehow found me, her face pale but determined. Her words pierced straight through my panic. "But the bracelet is yours. It was the only thing on you when I found you as a baby. And that was exactly 15 years ago."
I froze. My head spun. "Mum... I think it must be a mistake. Or... or something. I can't be the Belfort heiress." My voice shook, barely above a whisper.
Her gaze hardened. "Yvonne. You didn't spend your whole life wondering where you came from just to back down now. You know the truth."
My chest rose and fell fast, the truth colliding with the lies in my head. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides. She was right. Deep down, I knew it. I knew it from the first second I saw their bracelets. From the way my heart nearly leapt out of me. From the emptiness I'd carried all my life.
I couldn't let Tricia steal what was mine. Not this time.
A boldness I didn't recognize surged through me. My legs moved, strong and steady now. I turned back toward the center of the gymnasium, toward the brothers, the crowd, and Tricia's lies.
It was time to step into the light.
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8.3
Betrayed at the altar. Replaced by her own sister.
On what should have been the happiest day of her life, Amara loses everything-her fiancé, her dignity, and her future.
But that same night, a dangerous man steps out of the shadows with an offer she can't refuse.
Marriage. Power. Revenge.
Now bound to a ruthless CEO, Amara is ready to destroy everyone who betrayed her.
There's just one problem...
Her new husband knows more about her past than he should.
And the closer she gets to revenge-
the more she realizes she may have married the man who ruined her in the first place.
9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
8.3
For three years, I hid my identity as a billionaire heiress to build a life with the man I loved. I gave up everything to support Ben's career, believing we were creating a future together from the ground up.
The day before our engagement, I overheard him with his boss, Haylie. He called me a "stepping stone," a poor, simple girl he was using to climb the corporate ladder and get closer to her.
He laughed about our "humble" life and mocked the silver ring on my finger, calling it a necessary prop. He was sleeping with her, taking credit for the multi-million dollar deal I secretly engineered, and saw my love as a naive distraction.
The man I sacrificed my entire world for saw me as less than nothing. My love didn't just die; it turned into ice-cold rage.
So I walked out of his life and straight into the arms of my family's biggest rival.
He offered me a deal I couldn't refuse.
"Marry me," Jaxson Banks said with a smirk. "And together, we'll burn their world to the ground."
8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.
8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.
8.2
My son Leo had just died, and the silence in our cramped apartment felt like a physical weight crushing my chest.
Before I could even process the grief, my husband, Preston, kicked the door open and threw divorce papers onto the table.
Behind him stood Gloria, wearing a pristine cashmere coat and the diamond pendant Preston swore he had pawned to pay for Leo's hospital bills.
"Sign it," Preston said coldly. "You get nothing."
Gloria smirked, mocking me for failing to keep my sick child alive. When I tore up the papers in a blinding rage, Preston slapped me to the floor.
Then, my biological mother, Jerilyn, walked in. Instead of helping me, she pulled a serrated kitchen knife from her bag and plunged it deep into my stomach.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, Jerilyn leaned in and whispered the devastating truth.
"I swapped you in the nursery. Gloria is my blood, and you belong in a Manhattan mansion. I can't let you ruin her life."
Until my lungs stopped working, I was consumed by a roaring, violent hatred. My own mother had traded my life of privilege for poverty, let my son die, and then murdered me to protect the fake.
Opening my eyes again, the dingy ceiling and the agonizing pain were gone.
I was sitting at a wooden desk, surrounded by the chatter of teenagers.
I was back in high school. And this time, I was going to make them pay.