
Reborn And Pampered: The Genius Heiress Returns
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."
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Chapter 3
Glenwood stared at the girl. His cloudy eyes widened a fraction. The muscles around his mouth twitched in surprise.
He leaned his weight onto his cane and slowly walked forward. The rubber tip of his cane crunched over a piece of broken porcelain. He stopped exactly one step away from Cordelia.
Glenwood looked down. His eyes locked onto the dried blood smeared across the back of her small hand. His thick white eyebrows slammed together.
"What happened here?" Glenwood's voice was a low rumble that vibrated in the floorboards.
Alton jumped forward, his hands waving in panic. "Father, she is clumsy. She knocked over the coffee and broke the cup, and then she had the nerve to talk back to-"
BANG.
Glenwood slammed his ebony cane against the marble floor. The noise cracked like a gunshot.
"Shut your mouth, Alton," Glenwood barked.
Alton's jaw snapped shut. He swallowed hard, stepping back.
Glenwood turned his attention back to Cordelia. The harsh lines on his face softened just a millimeter. "What is your name, child? And who taught you to curtsy like that?"
Cordelia did not look at her parents. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the old man.
"My name is Cordelia," she said. Her voice was steady, completely devoid of the tremor a normal child would have.
She paused, letting the silence stretch for one second. "It means 'daughter of the sea' in Latin. The woman who picked trash out of the dumpsters to feed me gave me that name."
A sharp, wet gasp ripped from Antoinette's throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth. Her face turned the color of ash. The shame of hearing the word "trash" associated with her biological daughter felt like a physical slap to her face.
Glenwood's eyes darkened. A complex mix of guilt and intense curiosity swirled in his gaze.
"Do you not know that Antoinette is your real mother?" Glenwood asked softly.
Cordelia slowly turned her head. She looked at Antoinette. Her blue eyes were completely hollow. There was no longing. No sadness. Just ice.
"She is not my mother," Cordelia said. The words dropped from her lips like heavy stones. "She only cares about the sister who throws cups at people."
Antoinette staggered backward. Her knees buckled slightly, and she had to grab the wooden banister of the staircase to keep from falling. Her chest heaved as she struggled to pull air into her lungs.
Hallie saw her mother falter. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced out a loud wail. "She's a liar! Grandpa, she's lying!"
Glenwood slowly turned his head. He shot Hallie a single, lethal glare.
Hallie's mouth snapped shut. She choked on her own saliva, swallowing her fake sobs instantly.
The living room fell into a deathly silence. Everyone waited for the patriarch to pass judgment on the disrespectful girl.
But Cordelia was not finished.
She took a half-step forward. She deliberately closed the physical distance between herself and the old man, entering his personal space. She tilted her head up.
"Grandpa," Cordelia said, using the title with surgical precision. "I know the law says I have to return to this house."
She kept her voice low, but the acoustics of the room carried every syllable. "But the law does not say I have to be their punching bag."
Alton's face turned purple. The blood rushed to his head so fast his ears rang. He pointed a shaking finger at Cordelia. "You ungrateful little animal! I will teach you-"
Glenwood lifted his cane horizontally, blocking Alton's path. He did not look at his son. He kept his eyes on Cordelia. "Go on."
Cordelia took a deep breath. She let the air fill her lungs, preparing to drop the bomb she had calculated since the moment she woke up in this timeline.
"The law says I have to live here, but can I choose who takes care of me?" she stated.
The bold question hung in the air.
Leland choked on his own breath. He stared at the seven-year-old girl as if she had grown a second head.
Antoinette pressed both hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened, but a sick thrill of joy shot through her stomach. She thought she was finally going to be free of this embarrassment.
Alton felt his stomach drop. The humiliation burned his throat like stomach acid. His own flesh and blood was firing him in front of the head of the family. It was a direct attack on his authority as the heir.
Glenwood's grip on his cane tightened until his knuckles turned white. The shock in his eyes melted into a fierce, burning admiration.
The old man narrowed his eyes. "Do you even know what you are asking for? Who do you want to be your new guardian?"
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9.3
Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him.
She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort.
But Benton didn't take the charity.
Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him.
When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face.
Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician.
Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below.
Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her.
She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man.
But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion.
How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power?
"You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you."
Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.

7.5
Ivy is the last heir of the fallen Highmoor Pack. At sixteen, she entered Silvercrest Pack by a blood contract and became the partner of Alpha heir Julian. For three years, she was loyal and silent, but never loved.
In a crisis, Julian abandoned her and chose Selena. Heartbroken, Ivy insisted on ending the contract. She refused Julian's gifts and threats, determined to regain freedom.
When Ivy was attacked, silver-eyed Silas Blackwood saved her. He is the powerful Lycan King, above all Alphas.
Ivy's wolf awakened and recognized Silas as her real fated mate.
Escaping Julian's control, Ivy broke free from her painful past. Protected by the Lycan King, she regained dignity and strength.
The abandoned Luna finally rises, embracing her true destiny and love.

8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.

7.1
I waited a year for my mate, Alpha Justin, to return from the border war. While he was gone, I used my ten-million-dollar dowry to keep his crumbling pack afloat and buy life-saving elixirs for his mother.
But when he finally walked through the door, he reeked of another female's scent.
He brought back Gamma Brenna and a Royal Decree, coldly announcing she would be his "Co-Luna."
His family, who survived entirely on my wealth, immediately turned on me. They mocked me for being a wolfless orphan since my father and brothers were slaughtered defending the kingdom.
"You're just a fragile woman who belongs hidden away," Justin told me.
They demanded I accept this humiliation, step aside for his new warrior mate, and continue funding their luxurious lifestyle. Justin even arrogantly offered to sleep with me just once to give me a pup as a "consolation prize," declaring his heart and body belonged entirely to Brenna.
They thought my ruined pack meant I had no backing. They thought I was a pathetic victim who would cling to their scraps and accept a polluted mate-bond just to avoid being cast out into the woods as a Rogue.
They had no idea I had already visited the Alpha King.
I wasn't going to cry, and I certainly wasn't going to share my mate. I packed up every last cent of my ten million dollars, secured a Royal Severance Decree, and prepared to watch their arrogant pack starve to death.

7.0
Eleanore thought her fiancé, Johan, was her only salvation after her family went bankrupt.
But at a high-society gala, he handed her a drugged glass of water. As the unnatural heat burned through her veins, the horrific truth hit her. Johan had isolated her and controlled her finances, all while secretly getting engaged to a wealthy heiress. He drugged Eleanore to ruin her completely, planning to lock her away as his helpless, secret mistress.
Desperate and losing her mind to the drug, Eleanore fled down the hallway. With Johan and his bodyguards hunting her, she stumbled into the dark presidential suite.
But she wasn't alone. Sitting on the leather sofa was Alexander Briggs—the most feared corporate raider on Wall Street, and Johan's exiled brother.
Outside the door, Johan was screaming, ready to drag her back to hell.
"I can be your antidote. But it's going to cost you."
The ruthless billionaire looked at her trembling body with cold calculation. He offered her a staggering deal: a three-month fake marriage to destroy Johan's empire, and in return, absolute protection and her father's massive debts paid in full.
She couldn't understand why the most powerful predator in New York would use a ruined girl as his weapon, but she knew she would rather die than let Johan touch her again.
When Johan finally broke down the door to claim his prey, Alexander calmly pulled Eleanore into his arms.
"Watch your mouth. You are speaking to my future wife."

9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.