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Too Late To Beg The Heiress Novel Cover

Too Late To Beg The Heiress

For eighteen years, Arielle was raised in a cramped trailer park, treated as nothing more than a walking blood bag to keep her sick sister, Kimora, breathing. But today, her adoptive family hurled her belongings into a muddy pothole and kicked her out into the freezing rain. "Get the hell out, you ungrateful parasite! You'll rot in the gutter!" Kimora’s wealthy biological mother threw a check at her chest, warning her to stay away, while Kimora stepped out of a Porsche to mock her in the mud, flaunting her upcoming violin solo at Lincoln Center. They didn't care that Arielle was the one locked in a basement, forced to write that very violin piece until her fingers bled. They had drained eight hundred milliliters of her blood every month to keep up the illusion of Kimora's health, and now that they were done using her, they threw her away like garbage. Did they really think she was just a fragile, broken country girl who would starve without them? They had no idea she was a top-tier hacker who had just frozen a third of their offshore assets with a single keystroke. As a massive, armored Maybach pulled up to take her back to her true bloodline—the ultra-wealthy Chandler empire—and her terrifyingly powerful billionaire fiancé, Arielle wiped the mud from her face. Manhattan was waiting, and she was going to burn their world to the ground.
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Chapter 9

The dinner plates were cleared, replaced by the heavy scent of espresso and Cuban cigars in the lounge.

The family sank into the plush velvet sofas. The victory at the dinner table had warmed the room, but Curtiss still sat forward, his brow furrowed in deep anxiety.

"The gala is a wonderful idea, Mother," Curtiss said, rubbing his temples. "But Vivian was right about one thing. Arielle's education. The curriculum in Manhattan prep schools is brutal. I need to hire a team of retired Ivy League professors immediately to tutor her. I won't have her struggling."

Dianna, sulking in a corner armchair, let out a quiet, bitter scoff. "You can hire all the professors you want, Uncle Curtiss. You can't force a public school brain to understand advanced calculus."

Arielle didn't react to the insult. She simply stood up from the sofa.

She walked over to the entryway console, where the butler had placed her ruined canvas bag. She picked it up by the strap and carried it back to the center of the room, dropping it onto the glass coffee table. The dirty canvas looked offensive against the luxury.

She unzipped the main compartment, reached past her clothes, and slid her fingers into the padded inner pocket she had sewn against the back panel. The waterproof lining had done its job.

She pulled out a thick stack of heavy, cream-colored envelopes, all stamped with gold-foil crests.

Arielle tossed the stack onto the table in front of her father.

Curtiss frowned, picking up the top envelope. He broke the wax seal and pulled out the thick parchment. His eyes scanned the text.

He stopped breathing.

"This..." Curtiss's voice shook violently. "This is an unconditional acceptance letter from Phillips Exeter Academy. With a full-ride merit scholarship."

He flipped to the second page. "Her SAT score is attached. It's... it's a perfect 1600."

The silence in the lounge was absolute. The crackle of the fireplace sounded like gunshots.

Kevin lunged forward, snatching the rest of the envelopes. He ripped them open one by one, his eyes growing wider with every letter. "Lawrenceville. Groton. Deerfield. They all accepted her. Full scholarships."

Vivian shot up from her seat, her face twisted in denial. "That's impossible! Let me see those!" She snatched a letter from Kevin's hand, scrutinizing the signature. "These have to be forged. A girl from a trailer park doesn't get a perfect SAT score!"

Arielle leaned back into the sofa cushions, crossing her legs. She looked at Vivian with mild boredom.

"The Tysons never knew. I used a fake ID to register for the test at a center three towns over," Arielle lied smoothly, not a single muscle in her face twitching. "I told them I was at a library study group."

She dismissed a genius-level intellect as a casual favor. The sheer arrogance of the statement made her seem infinitely more dangerous.

Beth clutched her chest, tears of joy spilling over her wrinkled cheeks. "A genius. We have a true genius in the family."

"Which one do we choose?" Kevin asked, pacing the room excitedly. "Exeter is incredible, but it's in New Hampshire. We can't send her away."

In the corner of the room, a sharp, grinding sound cut through the chatter.

Ellis stood up. He pressed the cherry of his cigar into the crystal ashtray, crushing it with unnecessary, violent force.

He walked slowly toward the center of the room, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the coffee table.

"She will attend St. Jude's Ivy Preparatory," Ellis said. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an absolute command.

He looked at Curtiss. "The Burnett Consortium fully funds St. Jude's. I own the board. No one will dare look at her sideways, let alone touch her."

Curtiss nodded slowly. "That... that makes sense. The security there is unmatched."

"Furthermore," Ellis continued, his voice dropping an octave, "the Chandler estate is currently undergoing a massive security overhaul. The perimeter is compromised. Until the upgrades are finished, Arielle will live with me in my penthouse."

Kevin froze. "Absolutely not! Are you out of your mind? I'll buy a condo next to the school. She stays with me!"

Ellis ignored Kevin completely. He stepped around the coffee table, stopping right in front of Arielle. He leaned down, placing his large hands on the armrests of her chair, trapping her.

His face was inches from hers. She could smell the tobacco and mint on his breath. His dark eyes bored into hers, stripping away her layers, searching for the hacker, the genius, the liar beneath the surface.

"What do you think?" Ellis asked softly, the word dripping with possession. "Fiancée."

Arielle's lungs burned. He was boxing her in. If she fought him too hard, he would dig deeper into her secrets. She had to play the game.

She lowered her eyelashes, forcing a timid nod. "If... if you think it's safest."

Beth smiled in relief. "It is settled. Ellis will protect you."

Ellis straightened up. The corner of his mouth curled into a dark, victorious smirk. He had the prey exactly where he wanted her.

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