
The Disowned Heiress And Her Billionaire Protector
I was the rightful heir to the Valenzuela estate, but my aunt and cousin treated me worse than a stray dog.
On a freezing rainy night, they forged documents to strip me of my trust fund and violently ordered their bodyguards to throw me out.
My cousin snatched the rosewood urn containing my mother's ashes. She smashed it onto the marble floor and maliciously ground the white powder under her stiletto heel.
When Aidan, the elderly butler who had protected me since I was a baby, tried to shield me from their assassins in the storm, he was stabbed in the back.
His hot blood poured over my hands as he died in the muddy puddle, while my aunt's men laughed and raised their blades to finish me off.
They thought I was just a nameless orphan they could easily erase.
The next day, they went to the press, branding me a degenerate thief who ran away, happily preparing to parade around at my grandfather's charity gala using my stolen wealth.
But they didn't know I was rescued from the rain by the most ruthless billionaire in New York, a man willing to burn the city down to protect me.
Staring at my pale reflection in the penthouse mirror, I took a pair of heavy silver scissors and chopped off my long hair.
"From today on, the weak girl is dead. I am Evelena Valenzuela, and I am going to make them bleed for every single thing they took."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 7
The sky over Wall Street was a heavy, depressing gray. Inside the top floor of the Santiago Corporation headquarters, the atmosphere was just as suffocating.
Ingram sat behind a massive desk made of solid black obsidian. His face was hard. He was listening to a group of senior executives sweat through a presentation about a European merger.
Palmer walked into the room. His footsteps made no sound on the carpet. He walked up to the desk and placed a highly encrypted tablet next to Ingram's hand.
Palmer leaned down. He whispered that the security team following Miss Evelena had just transmitted live footage from the mall.
Ingram raised his right hand. He did not say a word, but the executive who was speaking stopped mid-sentence. The entire room fell completely silent. No one dared to breathe.
Ingram tapped the screen. The video from the luxury boutique started playing.
He saw Evelena on the screen. Her new short hair made her look sharp. Her eyes were focused and deadly.
When Ingram saw Felicia raise her hand to slap Evelena, his blood ran cold. His eyes darkened into a violent, murderous glare. His thumb pressed hard against the edge of the tablet.
But then, the video showed Evelena catching the wrist. It showed her twisting it. It showed her slamming the black card onto the glass counter.
The murderous look in Ingram's eyes vanished. A wave of pure, intense satisfaction washed over him.
He thought she was a broken bird. He was wrong. She was a predator learning how to use her claws.
The corner of Ingram's mouth twitched. Then, it pulled up into a full, dark smile. A low chuckle escaped his throat.
The executives standing in the room felt the hair on their arms stand up. They had worked for him for years. They had never seen the devil smile. It was terrifying.
Ingram locked the tablet. He waved his hand dismissively. He told the executives to get out and fix their garbage presentation.
The men scrambled out of the room. Ingram looked at Palmer. He ordered him to find out everything about the gala Felicia mentioned in the video.
Palmer tapped his phone. Three minutes later, he spoke. He said it was a high-society charity auction happening next week. Cathi and her family were on the guest list.
Ingram let out a cold breath. He told Palmer to call the organizers. He told him to use the Santiago name to secure the highest-level VIP invitation for the event.
Miles away, Evelena sat in a quiet corner of a cafe. She stared at a black coffee.
Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Orlaith. Orlaith asked if she was really planning to go to the charity gala next week.
Evelena typed back immediately. She said yes. That charity was her grandfather's legacy. She was not going to let Cathi parade around acting like she owned it.
Suddenly, the loud screech of heavy tires echoed outside the cafe. Three massive, black, bulletproof Maybachs pulled up to the curb, completely blocking traffic.
The people inside the cafe stopped talking. They stared out the window at the ridiculous display of wealth and power.
Four men in dark suits stepped out of the cars. They walked into the cafe and walked straight to Evelena's table.
The lead guard bowed his head slightly. He spoke loudly enough for the whole room to hear. He said, "Miss, the boss sent us to pick you up."
Evelena blinked. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew Ingram sent them. She felt the heavy stares of everyone in the cafe burning into her back.
She did not argue. She stood up smoothly, grabbed her bag, and walked out the door surrounded by the massive men.
She climbed into the back of the middle Maybach. The door shut heavily, blocking out the noise of the city. The car smelled like cedarwood and cold air. It smelled exactly like Ingram.
Palmer was sitting in the front passenger seat. He turned around and handed her a square velvet box.
Evelena took the box. She opened the lid. Inside sat a breathtaking pink diamond necklace. The stones caught the light, sparkling with a blinding intensity.
Palmer smiled politely. He repeated Ingram's exact words. "The boss says if you are going to war, you need to wear your armor."
Evelena stared at the diamonds. A strange, heavy feeling settled in her chest. Her pulse hammered in her throat. For the first time in her life, she felt a massive wall of protection standing right behind her.
She snapped the box shut. She looked out the tinted window at the passing buildings. Her jaw set in a hard line.
She was not fighting alone anymore.
The convoy sped through the streets, heading back to the penthouse. A storm was coming to the upper-class society of New York.
You may also like

7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.

7.2
I am a resident surgeon, secretly married to Dr. Barrett Walters, the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. It was a transactional marriage; he paid my mother's mounting medical bills, and I was his secret, obedient wife in the dark.
But at the hospital, he was a cold-blooded tyrant who deliberately made my life a living hell. During a major medical conference, he viciously tore apart my successful surgical repair, looking me dead in the eye as he called me incompetent in front of all my colleagues.
The humiliation didn't stop there. With his tacit approval, the senior residents bullied me, assigning me every brutal night shift. When his beautiful, wealthy heiress "girlfriend" visited the ward, he publicly mocked my background to make her smile.
"Some people get in through the back door. They're not fit for the front lines."
Even when I was forced to work as a secret banquet waitress to cover the medical copays he ignored, he found me, ruined the job out of pure possessive jealousy, and then fined my meager resident salary the very next morning just to show his absolute control.
I endured his punishing kisses and cruel rebukes, sacrificing my dignity just to keep my mother alive. But I couldn't understand why he had to destroy every shred of my peace. If he wanted the perfect heiress, why did he refuse to let me go?
Staring at his cold, controlling eyes in the stairwell, my exhaustion finally overpowered my fear. I was done being his victim, and it was time to tear up this contract.

8.0
Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?

8.0
My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.

7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."

7.6
I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years.
On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved.
My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows.
I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for?
Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile.
"They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future."
The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.