
Call Me Fake Heiress? Now I Bought My Ex's Company
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I never expected to be branded a 'fake heiress' and a 'scheming bitch' on my own wedding anniversary.
"Did you really think we'd never find out you faked the DNA test?" My mother's voice cut like a blade. "You've been impersonating our real daughter all along."
The irony was suffocating. They were the ones who stormed into my peaceful life, insisting that I was their long-lost child-no proof needed. And now they dared to call me the fraud.
"Since Camille has finally returned to where she belongs," my father declared coldly, "it's time for you to crawl back into whatever shadow you came from."
Then came the final blow. My husband of five years didn't even hesitate.
"I'll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don't make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife."
Overnight, I was discarded. The scandal of the city. The woman who stole a life that was never hers.
But they forgot one thing: I never needed them.
Before I was George Ashton's wife, I was Mirena Sterling-the Investment Queen. The woman who broke Wall Street records before she turned twenty-five. A racing champion. A tech prodigy.
I walked away from all of it. Gave up my empire. My crown. My name. All for a man who threw me away like garbage the moment someone "better" came along.
Big mistake.
On the night they cast me out, soaking wet and humiliated, I ran into the last person I ever wanted to see.
"Look at you now, Mirena," Alexander Pierce murmured, watching me with those piercing eyes. "The woman who once ruled the financial world. Reduced to this." He tilted his head. "And for what? Love?" A dark laugh. "Pathetic."
My former rival. The man who spent years trying to beat me-and never once succeeded. Now he stood before me, a Wall Street titan, watching my downfall with hungry satisfaction.
He thought he'd seen the last of me.
He was wrong.
The game was simple now: drop the dead weight, reclaim what's mine, and remind everyone why they feared my name.
Within months, I was back. Every market moved when I breathed. Every headline screamed my return. The Sterlings came crawling, begging for mercy they'd never shown me. And George? He watched in horror as I bought his most prized company without blinking.
The divorce he'd so eagerly signed? His greatest regret.
"Mirena, please," he begged, groveling at my feet. "Give me another chance."
I didn't even look at him. "Sorry, darling. I don't recycle trash."
But what I didn't expect was him.
Alexander Pierce dropped to one knee in front of me-the man who had once mocked my fall, now looking up with something raw and undisguised in his crimson gaze.
"I knew you'd take back everything they stole," he said, voice low. "Now..." A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Take me too."
Call Me Fake Heiress? Now I Bought My Ex's Company Chapter 1
Mirena Sterling had always dreamed of the spotlight-of loving and being loved in return.
But she never imagined the universe would grant that dream in such a cruel way.
Now, standing at the center of what should have been her birthday celebration, Mirena felt the world tilt. Reporters swarmed, thrusting microphones and recorders toward her from every direction.
"Mrs. Ashton, is it true you're not the Sterlings' real daughter?"
"Did you steal Camille Sterling's life all these years?"
"Did you deceive George Ashton into marrying you by pretending to be the Sterling heiress?"
Questions hammered at her from all sides. Mirena parted her lips, but the words stuck in her throat, choked by confusion and disbelief.
Not their real daughter? Stolen someone else's life?
Her mind spun. With trembling fingers, she reached for her phone, tucked into the small of her back. She had to know what was happening-had to hear the truth from her parents.
But as she pressed the phone to her ear, her composure shattered.
"The number you have dialed is not available at this time."
The automated voice echoed like a death knell.
Not available?
Her heart hammered. Frantic, she dialed her husband's number.
One ring-then straight to voicemail.
A cold knot tightened in her throat. She stared at the screen, disbelief washing over her.
This couldn't be happening. Not her parents. Not George.
They had planned this birthday together. Just this morning, George had promised-finally-to celebrate with her publicly, for the first time since they'd married. There was no way he would.
A burst of static cut through the noise. Mirena turned as the grand screen at the front of the hall flickered to life, flashing to a news broadcast.
Her breath caught.
There they were-her parents-smiling warmly beside the young woman who had appeared at their doorstep just a week earlier.
Camille.
Her father's voice filled the now-silent hall, crisp and clear.
"Today, after years of searching, Griselda and I are overjoyed to announce that we have finally found our true daughter-Camille Sterling!" He beamed, interlacing his fingers with Camille's and raising their joined hands high.
Mirena's vision sharpened. A bitter taste rose in her throat.
Their true daughter?
Then what did that make her?
Years ago, they had come to the orphanage where she lived and claimed her as their own. Now, they stood on live television, declaring a stranger who had appeared out of nowhere just a week ago as their real child-while she was nothing but an impostor?
How?
Her heart pounded wildly. She tried her parents' number again. When it went unanswered, something inside her cracked.
Clenching her jaw, she held what was left of her composure together and pushed through the crowd. Ignoring the reporters, the flashing cameras, and the mocking stares burning into her back, she flagged a taxi and rushed to the news station.
Less than twenty minutes later, the cab pulled up. Mirena hurried inside.
She spotted her parents at once. But just as she opened her mouth to call out, her mother drew a familiar velvet case. When she opened it, Mirena's breath caught.
Inside lay the 70-carat floral diamond choker-the family heirloom.
The very gift her parents had promised her today.
Now, they were fastening it around Camille's neck.
Betrayal cut deep, but confusion and anger burned hotter.
She needed answers.
She took one step forward-
A hand seized her from behind, yanking her back violently.
Stumbling, she barely caught her balance. Whirling around, she glared at whoever dared manhandle her-
But the fire in her eyes died the moment she met her husband's cold gaze.
"George-" she began, relief trembling in her voice.
"What are you doing here?" His icy tone froze her in place, shattering the fragile hope that he had come to offer comfort.
"George," she tried again, her chest tight with pain as she searched his face. Not a trace of warmth looked back.
He stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "If you're here to ruin Camille's moment, I swear I'll make you regret it."
His words cut deeper than any blade. How could her own husband defend that. that impostor-instead of her?
Tears welled, but she forced them down. "George, how can you say that to me?"
"If you hadn't stolen Camille's life, she and I would never have been forced apart," he shot back, his gaze pure disgust. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? We could have been happy-if not for your scheming."
The accusation struck a raw nerve. Camille. turned out to be the shadow he could never let go. Mirena had believed it was just a part of his past, something that wouldn't touch their marriage. Now she saw the truth: he had always thought her deceitful. Unworthy.
"What's going on here?" Her father's voice cut in, cold and unfamiliar. The warmth he'd once reserved for her was gone-replaced by clear revulsion.
Mirena stood there, painfully aware of her faded dress, greasy hair, and bare face-the very picture of a worn-out housewife. Facing her, Camille glowed in a designer gown, her rich brown hair shining, her makeup flawless.
There was no question who looked like the true Sterling.
"Dad-" Mirena began, but he cut her off sharply.
"You have no right to call me that."
His cruel rejection pierced like a blade. "But before. you were the ones who-"
"Did you truly believe we would never discover how you falsified the DNA results?" Her mother's voice was sharp, unforgiving. "You illegally took her place!"
The words only left Mirena more bewildered. They had been the ones to come to the orphanage-they had insisted she was the daughter they'd spent years searching for.
Now they were rewriting history without a second thought?
"I illegally took her place?" She stared at these strangers who had once been her parents, disbelief hardening into anger. "I never wanted any of this. You begged me to come home."
"That was before we knew the depths of your deceit," Duncan Sterling cut in, his voice like ice. "You should consider yourself fortunate we aren't pressing charges."
"Do you have any idea how much pain your greed has caused our real daughter?" Griselda snapped, her gaze shifting to Camille and softening at once. "Oh, my poor darling."
"It's alright, Mom and Dad." Camille's voice was smooth as silk, sweetly innocent-a sound that grated on Mirena's nerves.
"Now that Camille has returned to where she belongs," her father declared, "it's time for you to crawl back to whatever shadow you came from."
"Out of respect for these past years-and at Camille's generous request-we will not pursue legal action. But don't you dare expect another cent from this family."
A bitter laugh nearly escaped Mirena. All these years, she had borne the Sterling name yet never truly enjoyed its privileges. Instead, she had sacrificed her own freedom-marrying a man she barely knew for the sake of their so-called "family legacy." Had they been blind to everything she'd given up?
As if the humiliation wasn't enough, George spoke again, cold and final. "I'll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don't make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife."
Then, in front of everyone, he took Camille's hand and led her away. As Camille passed, she "accidentally" bumped into Mirena, still reeling from the shock. Mirena stumbled and fell hard onto the floor.
No one looked back.
Only the echo of laughter and the relentless flash of cameras surrounded her.
Clenching her fists until her nails bit into her palms, she refused to let a single tear fall.
She pushed through the crowd of vultures, fleeing the hall-alone, exposed, but unbroken.
Continue Reading
Call Me Fake Heiress? Now I Bought My Ex's Company of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.

8.4
To keep her grandmother on life support, Aracely was blackmailed into taking Evelyn's place in the pitch-black bedroom of the ruthless billionaire, Brennen Levine.
After that night, Evelyn tossed a hideous silicone scar at her feet, forcing Aracely to glue it to her face and work as a bottom-tier maid in his estate so he would never recognize her.
Brennen, suffering from chronic insomnia, was completely addicted to the sweet gardenia scent of the woman from the dark. But when he saw the "disfigured" Aracely scrubbing floors, he was physically repulsed, publicly humiliating her and calling her a monster.
Meanwhile, Evelyn paraded around as his soon-to-be wife. Terrified of her lies unraveling, Evelyn constantly abused Aracely, throwing scalding coffee at her face and threatening to pull the plug on her grandmother if Aracely didn't sneak back into Brennen's room to act as his human sleeping pill.
Aracely endured the suffocating fake scar, the insults, and the freezing servant quarters. She ground her teeth, swallowing the bitter injustice just to keep her only family alive, wondering when this torturous hell would ever end.
But Evelyn's malice knew no bounds. When Evelyn raised her hand to strike again, threatening to rip off the very disguise she forced Aracely to wear, something inside Aracely finally snapped.
"Do not push me."
Aracely locked her hand around Evelyn's wrist in a bone-crushing grip, completely unaware that Brennen was watching from the balcony above, his dark eyes narrowing as a dangerous realization hit him.

8.5
Everyone knew Caroline loved Jacob, the frail man in a wheelchair, even giving up her chance at marrying into wealth for him.
She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."

7.7
BAD REPUTATION
7.7
It was her hair that fascinated him. The reddish-brown mass was parted high to one side, windswept almost. And then there was her make-up, neutral save for the liner around her eyes and the bold lip colour... was that purple?
His gaze narrowed over it and she must have sensed his attention, her eyes flickering in his direction. "You know, it's rude to stare."
Her voice was husky, a crisp edge that rasped along his spine and sealed her appeal. Derek was hooked. Her eyes were back on the doors, her lack of interest obvious.
He should've taken it as a sign, but since when had he backed off from anything he fancied?

7.7
Not only was I drugged, blinded and assaulted. I was deceived into carrying a baby by a stranger I never knew. Then he appeared and took my child away.
I was sent to a militia by the father of my child. I thought I was rescued but I was recruited to be a weapon for killing. Who was manipulating me, I didn't know. The answers were far from what I knew.
Forced to blend into the world that I could never believe I would be to, a place where brutality reigned, kill or be killed was the only language. I have survived but he has to pay for everything he did to me, because I believed every phase of my life was set by him and him alone. Have I really survived?
Who would have thought, he existed twice in the same world? Do I really know who I should take revenge on? Him or the person I would sacrifice everything for?
Was my mother the one who orchestrated everything? What kind of pawn am I?

7.6
After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built.
Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday.
Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite.
Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him.
The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note.
"Good Job."
For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM.
With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work.
She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal.
But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President.
Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train.
"You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.








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