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 6
Tricia's POV
At one stage, I felt like backing off, but it was too late to do that now. And on second thought, I couldn't believe Yvonne was the real Belfort heiress. Her, of all people? She didn't deserve all of this, you know. I mean, come on-she's been a nobody her whole life, scrubbing floors, keeping her head low like the cleaner's daughter she is. What would she even do with this kind of power, this kind of spotlight? She wouldn't know how to act or how to shine with it.
And that's where I came in.
Deep down, the sweetest part wasn't even the bracelet itself-it was the taste of victory, the thought of having all the "goodies" that came with the heiress title right in my hands. If anyone was meant to step into this crown, it was me and I could beat my chest with regard to that. I've always been the queen bee, and now the whole school would finally see that wasn't just a nickname. I was born for this.
And no one could stop my shine.
While I was still basking in the glow of my own thoughts right beside the Belfort brothers, Adrian strolled toward me, casual as always, his hand shoved in his pocket. But then, with that smirk of his, he slid an arm around me and said, loud enough for the whole school to hear:
"Tricia is my girlfriend, actually."
The words dropped into the air like glitter. I tilted my head up at him, blinking, then smiled slowly. Adrian knew exactly what he was doing, and so did I. He loved beautiful things, shiny things, things that made people look twice. And I loved the power of being chosen, being claimed in front of everyone. There was no reason to oppose what he said-why would I? His declaration only made me look more untouchable.
I leaned into him just enough to show I didn't mind, to show I belonged right here. Because the truth was, I needed him as much as he needed me. He knew what was at stake. With him backing me, there'd be no reason for anyone to doubt me, even if the Belfort brothers had a glimpse of suspicion.
My original plan when I heard about the Belfort brothers transferring to our school, was actually to cozy my way into dating one of the brothers and do away with Adrian himself. But when luck handed me this perfect setup, why chase crumbs when I could have the whole feast? They already believed I was their sister, all because of the bracelet I snatched from Yvonne.
Poor, pathetic Yvonne.
I glanced around the gymnasium, scanning the crowd for her, but I think she'd already slipped away like the coward she was. The space where she'd been standing was empty. It almost made me laugh. Even if she tried to speak up, who would believe her? Nobody wanted the word of a cleaner's daughter over mine. And if she dared to, I'd make sure the crowd drowned her out. Everyone loved a spectacle, and I was their star.
Adrian tightened his arm around my waist, and I let my fingers brush over the bracelet on my wrist which seemed to be the perfect prop. Just imagine if I hadn't stolen it when I did. What would I even be standing on right now? The thought almost made me shiver. Timing was everything, and I had nailed it.
I didn't know how far this ride could take me, but I was more than willing to push it as far as it would go.
Adrian's voice cut into my thoughts, as smooth as anything one could imagine. "It's such a relief that you guys finally found her. She's always longed to be with her real family."
He was looking straight at the Belfort brothers when he said it, his tone dripping with sincerity that I almost clapped. I hadn't even asked him to play wingman for me, but here he was, feeding them exactly what they wanted to hear. That's what I liked about Adrian-he knew how to play the game.
And I wasn't about to be left behind. I tilted my head, letting my eyes water just enough to look soft. "This bracelet is all I had to give me hope... that someday, I'd see you guys again."
Oh, I deserved an award. The way my voice trembled? It all screamed perfection. I could feel all eyes on me, soaking in every word. Playing the victim had never felt so good, you know.
The brothers' expressions shifted almost instantly with shock, relief, even a little guilt flashing in their eyes as they couldn't hide it. And I knew right there that they believed me. My heart kicked in my chest, but it wasn't nerves, it was triumph.
The gym buzzed all up with low whispers. I caught girls in the corner whispering furiously, others glaring in envy. Some boys looked impressed, like they suddenly saw me in a new light. I'd never been invisible, but now I was way more untouchable.
Just when I thought the moment had reached peak perfection, when the brothers' eyes softened, their lips curving into relieved smiles.
"Enough! Enough!"
The voice cracked through the air like a whip, slicing through the applause and whispers. The gym fell silent, and I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.
Of course. Yvonne.
She walked in from the entrance, with her shoulders squared, her eyes locked on me like she'd been waiting for this all along. My stomach tightened, though I forced myself not to flinch. A second ago, I'd thought she'd slunk away with her two left legs. Clearly, I was wrong.
The crowd turned as one as their whispers rushed back like a wave. Her footsteps echoed against the polished gym floor, each one slower and heavier than the last, like she was milking the attention I thought belonged to me.
"I don't know anything about heiresses or long-lost brothers," she said, her voice felt steady, too steady for someone like her. Her eyes flicked to my wrist straight up, sharp and accusing. "But that bracelet... is mine."
There were gasps here and there and a ripple spread through the room like I'd just been slapped.
I narrowed my eyes at her, trying not to show how her sudden boldness threw me. Since when did Yvonne talk like this? Since when did she stand in front of people instead of hiding behind everyone else.
She stepped closer with her chin lifting, and stretched out her hand toward me. "Give it back. Now."
Her tone wasn't pleading. It was commanding. Like she had the right. Like she wasn't the nobody she's always been.
And you know the worst part? The Belfort brothers actually looked at her. Not just looked-studied her, having their faces shifting in real time. Their eyes flicked from her to me, back to her again,and I could bet that was doubt flashing across their features.
I swallowed hard, though I kept my smile slightly held high. No way was I going to let her steal this moment.
"What!" one of the Belfort brothers said, his voice louder than he meant it to be.
"That bracelet is yours?" another added, disbelief painting his tone.
And just like that, the room went into chaos.
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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.