Left To Burn: The Heiress's Ruthless Comeback
Trapped in a deadly fire at my own engagement party, my lungs burned as I reached a shaking hand out to my fiancé for help.
He stopped and looked right at me through the thick smoke. But instead of saving me, he wrapped his jacket tightly around my stepsister and ran, leaving me to burn.
I barely survived. But when I woke up in the hospital, my father and stepmother didn't even ask about my injuries.
They threw a stack of legal documents right onto my bed.
"Sign the papers, Avah. Step aside. Jaclyn is far better suited to be Kain's wife."
My fiancé then stormed into the room, publicly humiliating me with false rumors of an illegitimate child and threatening to bankrupt my company.
Four years of swallowing my pride to be the perfect, obedient pawn for our family business, all for nothing.
They threw me to the wolves without a single second of hesitation, expecting me to just lower my head and cry like I always did.
But the fire had burned that pathetic version of me away.
I ripped out my IV, letting the blood drip onto the sheets, and tore their contracts straight down the middle.
"The engagement is over."
I threw my million-dollar ring right at my ex's chest, then picked up the phone to call my trust lawyer. They wanted to take everything from me, so I was going to make them bleed.
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Chapter 9
Avah moved with extreme care. She gently laid the sleeping Leo down against the soft pillows and pulled the thick cashmere blanket up to his chin.
She leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the little boy's smooth forehead.
Standing a few feet away, Atticus watched this display of pure maternal warmth. He didn't miss a single detail.
A dark, aggressive tide surged in Atticus's deep blue eyes. The possessiveness in his gaze was so heavy it felt like it could swallow her whole.
Avah straightened her back. She turned to face Atticus, desperately trying to keep her voice steady and calm.
She pointed a trembling finger at the burn scar on his arm. "Thank you. For saving my life in that fire."
Atticus didn't say a word. He simply took a slow, deliberate step toward her. Then another.
His massive frame blocked out the light from the overhead lamp, casting a large, dark shadow that completely engulfed Avah.
Avah instinctively took a step back, but her shoulders immediately hit the cold, hard wall. She was trapped.
Atticus raised his left arm-the one with the burn scar-and slammed his palm flat against the wall, right next to her ear.
He leaned down. The physical distance between them vanished. Avah could feel the scorching heat of his breath fanning across her cheeks.
"I don't want your verbal gratitude," Atticus said. His voice was a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down her spine.
Avah swallowed hard, her throat dry. "What kind of compensation do you want? I... I have nothing right now."
A low, dark chuckle vibrated deep in Atticus's chest. He lifted his right hand and gently hooked a stray curl of her hair around his finger.
He stared directly into her eyes. "I only want you."
The blunt, violently direct confession exploded in Avah's ears like a bomb.
Her eyes widened in absolute shock. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. She couldn't comprehend the logic of this dangerous man.
Avah brought her hands up and pushed hard against his solid chest. "We met less than twenty-four hours ago. You're insane."
Atticus didn't budge an inch. He easily caught her wrists in one hand and pressed her palm flat against his own chest, right over his racing heart.
"Time means absolutely nothing to a hunter," Atticus stated, his tone dripping with absolute certainty.
He didn't sugarcoat his intentions. "Leo needs a mother. And I need a woman who actually holds my interest. You are mine now."
Avah felt a hot flash of anger burn through her veins. He was treating marriage and emotion like a corporate acquisition.
"I am not a product you can just buy off a shelf," Avah snapped coldly. "And I will never be a surrogate mother for your convenience."
Atticus's eyes darkened dangerously. He released her wrist and slowly trailed his fingers down the sensitive skin of her neck, making her body tremble involuntarily.
"Don't rush to reject me, Avah," he warned, his voice dropping an octave. "The prey I set my sights on never escapes."
He was officially declaring war on her independence. He was going to take over her life.
Avah violently jerked her head to the side, breaking contact with his fingers. A fierce, unbroken fire blazed in her eyes.
They stood locked in a silent standoff in the dim room. The air between them crackled with explosive sexual tension and the heavy scent of gunpowder.
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9.0
My fiancé, Connor, and I had a one-year pact. I'd work undercover as a junior developer in the company we co-founded, while he, the CEO, built our empire.
The pact ended the day he ordered me to apologize to the woman who was systematically destroying my life.
It happened during his most important investor pitch. He was on video call when he demanded I publicly humiliate myself for his "special guest," Jaden. This was after she'd already scalded my hand with hot coffee and faced zero consequences.
He chose her. In front of everyone, he chose a manipulative bully over our company's integrity, our employees' dignity, and me, his fiancée.
His eyes on the screen demanded my submission.
"Apologize to Jaden. Now."
I took a step forward, held up my burned hand for the camera, and made a call of my own.
"Dad," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "It's time to dissolve the partnership."
8.6
For years, Elvera lived as the despised charity case in the cramped Wright household.
When she caught her foster sister Donita straddling her fiancé, they didn't even panic. Instead, they loudly framed Elvera for stealing a diamond necklace to justify kicking her out.
Her foster parents immediately sided with the cheaters, screaming at her to pack her trash and starve in the gutters. Only her dying foster brother tried to sneak her his medical savings, but the family violently shoved him away, mocking him as a walking corpse.
Standing in the freezing Brooklyn wind, Donita and Crockett followed her outside just to laugh. They waved a crisp twenty-dollar bill in her face, mocking her biological family as a bunch of unemployed street thugs.
They really thought she was going to freeze to death on the pavement with nothing but a faded backpack.
But then a roaring, matte-black supercar pulled up.
The man who stepped out wasn't a street thug; he was her real brother, an FBI task force commander.
He effortlessly snapped Crockett's shoulder out of its socket, put Elvera in the passenger seat, and drove her straight to a sprawling billionaire estate in the Hamptons.
Sitting by the fire in her biological parents' palace, watching them casually display an eight-million-dollar sculpture she had secretly designed, the head butler suddenly walked in.
"Sir, the fake heiress has returned from Europe."
Elvera took a slow sip of her coffee. The real game was finally about to begin.
7.5
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."
7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.
8.6
Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her.
She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton.
But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi.
Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance.
"You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree."
That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die.
Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites.
Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life?
Then, her eyes snapped open.
A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood.
She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever.
Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower.
She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.
8.5
I was supposed to marry Aaron, the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, and finally have my fairy tale.
But right before our Unity Celebration, I caught him buried between my stepsister's legs in our bridal suite.
When I refused to bind my soul to his at the altar and exposed his betrayal, my world completely shattered.
My own mother called me a crazy, wolfless bitch and disowned me on the spot for ruining a political alliance.
Aaron publicly humiliated me, screaming that as a wolfless Omega, I should have been on my knees thanking him for the chance to be his breeding mare.
Driven to absolute despair by the betrayal of everyone I trusted, I tried to jump off a freezing roof.
But a pair of strong arms pulled me back from the edge.
In the dark, a stranger consumed my grief, wrapping me in a terrifyingly dominant scent of cedar and leather, making me feel an intoxicating mate bond I thought I was incapable of having.
I thought it was just a desperate, one-night mistake to make me forget.
But the next morning, when I went to the Blackwood estate to return Aaron's gifts and leave as a Rogue, a suffocating aura filled the room.
The man who stepped between me and my furious ex-fiancé, the man whose marks were currently hidden beneath my clothes, stared at me with glowing golden eyes.
"Get your hands off her."
He was Kaelon Blackwood. The supreme Alpha King.
Aaron's father.
And he had just locked the door, declaring that I belonged to him.