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Crown Stolen, Crown Reclaimed Novel Cover

Crown Stolen, Crown Reclaimed

Summoned from abroad to stabilize Neel Corporation after an executive's sudden departure, the rightful heiress finds her homecoming ruined. An arrogant stranger storms her new office, destroys her welcome gift, and demands she vacate the premises. He claims the entire empire now belongs to his girlfriend, Violet Neel. Confused by the existence of a secret daughter, the protagonist must confront her father and unravel a web of corporate deception to reclaim her stolen throne.
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Chapter 4

My silence made Jim think I had finally cracked. He started patting my face, one slap after another, smug as ever.

"Scared now?" he sneered. "A fake like you could empty out your whole family savings and still not come up with a million."

I swung back without warning. The slap landed hard, leaving a sharp red imprint of my fingers across his face.

"A million is nothing," I said flatly. "You like bags that much? Fine. I'll get you ten."

Jim's expression darkened.

I pulled out my phone and called the store manager. They agreed without hesitation and said the items would be delivered in ten minutes.

The moment they heard that, people started laughing.

"With a brain like that, she's really calling herself an heiress?" someone mocked. "Doesn't she know that boutique runs on waitlists? Ten minutes? You'd be lucky to get one in a month!"

"She really thinks she's something. Ten bags? Even a whole truck of knockoffs wouldn't match one of Jim's accessories."

I couldn't help thinking how one rotten person could ruin the whole place.

Violet had no shame, and the people she surrounded herself with were no better.

Violet dragged over a chair and sat right in front of me, like she had front row seats to a show she was certain I would lose.

Jim stepped closer, grabbing my chin and tilting my face up. The look in his eyes made my skin crawl.

"You're quite pretty. Too bad you had to pull something like this. You picked the wrong person to mess with. If you can't pay, don't push it. Take off a piece of clothing, and I'll give you a 100-grand discount per item. I'm being generous."

I snatched a pen off the desk and drove it straight toward his eye.

At the last second, I stopped.

The tip hovered just short of contact.

Jim stumbled back in panic, cursing under his breath, calling me insane.

I lowered the pen slowly, my gaze sharp enough to cut.

"Ten minutes isn't up yet," I said. "No one touches me. Since we're waiting, maybe we should talk about my losses."

I bent down, picking up the shattered pieces of the antique ornament and setting them carefully on the desk. A faint smile tugged at my lips, but it didn't reach my eyes.

"This thing doesn't have a brand name. It's not new either, but it is rare. So how exactly are you planning to pay for it?"

Jim and his group burst into laughter again.

"She's lost it. That broken junk's worth what, 20 bucks? You could buy a pile of those online."

"And it's ugly, too. Putting that on a desk just drags down the whole company's taste. How embarrassing!"

I ignored them completely and looked straight at Violet.

"Ms. Neel, you still have time to admit you're wrong. Otherwise, when this blows up in your face, it's going to hurt."

Violet clearly believed I was just like her, another fake trying to bluff her way through. She lazily pulled out a black card and flicked it onto the desk in front of me.

"Name your price."

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

"That's the unlimited black card, right? If Violet's not the real heiress, I'll eat my own words."

Jim leaned back, crossing his legs, looking completely satisfied.

"That's Mr. Neel's secondary card," he said proudly. "It's more than enough to cover your worthless junk."

I took one look at it and almost laughed.

That was the card my father had shoved into my hand before I left the country. I had never used it and just tossed it in a drawer.

So Violet had been using it this whole time.

I kept my expression neutral as I picked up the card, clicking my tongue softly.

"That ornament might look old, but it's still an antique. There's even an auction tag on it. Didn't you notice?"

"Yeah, right," Jim scoffed. "My underwear has a tag, too. Guess that makes it an antique."

He didn't take the hint at all. Instead, he grabbed my clothes, trying to pull at the fabric.

"All that talk, and you're just after money in the end. Quit stalling. Start taking it off. Maybe if the guys here enjoy the show, they might toss you a few bucks to help you pay for the bag."

I struggled hard, but it only seemed to excite him more. His grip got rougher and more aggressive.

Violet just sat there and watched, not even pretending to stop him.

Laughter and crude comments closed in from all sides, drowning me.

Right when it felt like there was no way out, Piers's sharp, commanding voice cut through the noise.

"Stop!"

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