Lost Heiress of the Belfort Brothers
"Adrian, why would you lie to me? Why would you let her push my mum like that?"
Yvonne's voice trembled, holding back tears.
Adrian smirked. "Wake up, Yvonne. You really thought I wanted you when Tricia was right here?"
That was how Adrian-her first crush, the boy she thought cared-chose to humiliate her in front of everyone as she was the cleaner's adopted daughter.
But fate had other plans.
Because the Diamond Belfort brothers-the heirs everyone adored were coming to their school in search of their missing heiress- baby sister. But the queen bee steals the chance that should have been hers. Then again, secrets don't stay buried forever. With her true identity waiting to explode, Yvonne must decide to rise from the ashes, claim her place, and bring down everyone who tried to destroy her.
Because the real heiress doesn't beg.
She takes rather.
Now, Yvonne is done playing small. It's her time to rise, reclaim her crown, and make everyone regret ever doubting her.
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Chapter 3
Yvonne's POV
Tricia smirked, and then, for the first time, her face flickered. "Oh, look. The cleaner's here," she sneered. "What are you going to do? Call security?"
My mom's face tightened, but she didn't lose control.
And just immediately, the student paparazzi didn't even think to stop like I had thought they had behaved themselves. They just kept snapping pictures like it was the funniest thing they'd seen all week.
"Oh look," one of them laughed, "the cleaner's come to clean up the trash."
My stomach dropped. I could take all their insults, I'd been taking them for years, but the moment they dragged my mum into it, something in me snapped. I stepped closer, putting myself between her and their cameras. "Don't talk to my mum like that!" My voice cracked, but I didn't care. She didn't deserve this.
Before I could even breathe, Adrian walked forward. The smirk on his face made my skin crawl. Then-like it was nothing-he shoved my mum down from her wheelchair. The gasp that left my throat burned. The sound of metal screeching against the floor echoed as he kicked the chair away. "I'll do whatever I want to help," he sneered. "And the other students are allowed to talk to your mum however they like. She's just a cleaner. And you? A charity case."
I dropped to my knees instantly, helping my mum up, my hands trembling. Blood smeared on her knees, staining the skin I'd seen tired and bruised from work a thousand times. Seeing it there because of him? That tore me apart. My chest tightened, fury boiling hotter than I had ever felt. "You hurt my mum, you psychopath!" I spat, my voice loud enough to draw the crowd even closer.
Adrian tilted his head, his grin widening like my anger was entertainment. "So what? She's a nobody. And so are you."
Tricia's voice slid in sharp like glass. "You really need to learn your place, Yvonne. Adrian is the principal's son. And you? You're just the dirty cleaner's trash daughter." Her laughter followed, nails-on-chalkboard to my ears.
I wanted to tear her words apart, to spit back something so strong it would shut them up, but before I could, I felt a light tap on my hand. My mum's fingers shook as she whispered, "Yvonne, I'm fine. I'm so sorry, Mr. Adrian. I'm sure Yvonne didn't mean to pick a fight. Couples shouldn't argue in public."
My heart sank. Heat rushed to my cheeks. Couples? Oh God. I had told her-so excitedly-that Adrian had asked me to be his girlfriend. That was why she'd gone out of her way to buy me the dress, the one she could barely afford. She thought she was defending my boyfriend.
Adrian barked a laugh, sounding all sharp and cruel. "Are you stupid? Yvonne was never my girlfriend. I wasn't going to ask her out either. She's just an orphan nerd who does my homework. My own personal AI." He dragged the word like a curse. "And wait till I tell my mother that you spoke out of line. You'll be unemployed before you know it."
I staggered back at his words, my throat tight. He was simply twisting everything and making me feel small on purpose. Rage burned hot in my chest. "You monster, Adrian," I snapped, my voice shaking as I turned to my mum. "Mum, why are you apologizing to this asshole? Don't you see? We were never meant to be. I realized that not too long ago."
"Yvonne," she whispered, fear lining her face, "don't exchange words with him. I can't afford to lose my job, okay?" Her eyes begged me for silence.
My jaw clenched. I hated how her words made me fold, but I couldn't stand to hurt her more. "Okay, Mum," I whispered, laying my hand over hers gently. The familiar blinking of my bracelet caught the corner of my eye-it always did that at 12 noon. The little flash of light I'd always told myself meant hope, meant I belonged somewhere.
Tricia noticed instantly. "Look here." She stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she grabbed my wrist without asking. "What's this?"
I jerked my hand, trying to pull away. "Get off me."
But then, her grip only tightened. "Come on, this looks genuine and there is no way you could afford this. You're a walking discount rack. You obviously stole it." Her words sliced deeper than the laughter building around us.
Murmurs spread through the crowd in whispers and my chest tightened. "I didn't steal it," I said, my voice cracking under the weight of all those eyes. "That's all I have left from my birth family."
Tricia scoffed, pulling at the bracelet harder. "No. I think you stole it from me. Because there's no way this belongs to you."
"Oh my God," someone whispered. Another laughed nervously.
I held on with everything I had, my fingers gripping her wrist, trying to twist free. I couldn't lose this-not this. The murmurs grew louder, people circling closer, phones up and recording. "Let go!" I shouted. But she smirked, leaning in close so only I could hear. "Give it back or Adrian and I will make sure you and your trash mother lose her job."
I froze. My stomach sank. I looked at my mum. Her face was drawn, exhausted and apologetic. I knew how much this job meant to her. If she lost it, there wouldn't be another waiting. My scholarship might be gone. Again, our survival would be at risk.
Tricia's voice cut again, all sweet and venomous. "And then where would you be? Expelled. Dumpster diving for breakfast."
My grip weakened. I didn't want to, but my mum's pleading face haunted me more than the thought of letting go. Slowly, reluctantly, I eased my fingers open and let Tricia slip the bracelet off. The emptiness on my wrist felt heavier than the weight of her laughter.
But the ache inside me screamed. I clenched my fists, heat flushing my skin. "No!" I snapped, surging forward, ready to fight back and snatch it away. But my mum's hands caught my arms, pulling me back. "Baby," she begged, her voice breaking. "What if I lose my job? What if you lose your scholarship too?"
Her words wrapped around me like chains. I froze, feeling all helpless, rage clawing at my chest. She was right. With Adrian and Tricia's influence, one more step out of line could destroy everything.
Then, suddenly, the buzz of phones filled the air simultaneously. Notifications chimed one after another, spreading like wildfire through the crowd. Heads bent down and their screens lighting up faces. Then, like a chorus, everyone gasped.
"The Diamond Belfort brothers are transferring to Pacesetters High School?"
The scream of excitement that followed made my ears ring. It was as if every single student had rehearsed the reaction, with their voices colliding in perfect unison.
I even felt my stomach flip. The Diamond Belfort brothers. Everyone in town knew that name. The heirs of the richest family in New York. The ones who had everything-looks, fame, money, influence. People whispered about them like they were untouchable, like they lived in a world above ours.
My thoughts scrambled. Why would they come here? Pacesetters High School was beneath their standards and their kind. This was a small-town school. We didn't get heirs and celebrities like them. So, I couldn't really place.
And yet, as everyone buzzed around me, my bracelet gone and my heart raw, I couldn't stop one thought from carving itself deep into my chest:
Maybe their coming means something for me.
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9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.
9.7
For three years, I endured being treated like a walking ATM and a maid by my husband's family, biting my tongue to keep the peace.
Then, my husband's buddy suddenly dropped off a nine-year-old boy at my front door.
The crumpled note from my husband casually explained it was his illegitimate son, blaming me for being barren and demanding I raise the kid as our own.
My mother-in-law was absolutely thrilled, parading the boy around as the true heir at the dinner table.
"Some trees just don't bear fruit, no matter how much water you give them," she sneered.
My brother-in-law cheered, and my drunk father-in-law demanded I cook a feast to celebrate.
They actually expected me to continue paying the mortgage, buying the groceries, and cleaning up their endless messes, all while raising the living proof of my husband's betrayal.
I looked at the parasites who had drained me dry for years, acting like they were doing me a favor by letting me stay in a house that my money paid for.
I didn't scream, and I didn't cry.
I simply called my lawyer to file for an immediate divorce, froze every single bank account and credit card they relied on, and drove off to my grandmother's secluded cabin in the woods.
Let them see how long they survive without my money.
7.4
Evelina Barrett was the legitimate daughter, yet she was framed for a disgusting sex scandal, expelled from the Ivy League, and locked out of her late mother's massive trust fund.
While she was thrown out to rot on the streets with a jagged, hideous red scar covering half her face, her father and step-family were throwing a lavish charity gala to celebrate her total ruin.
They laughed as they officially published her disownment notice in the Times to cut her off forever.
"Without the school halo, that ugly freak will be begging on the streets by tomorrow," her sister Aspen sneered.
Her stepmother Annabella toasted to taking out the trash, perfectly happy to steal Evelina's inheritance while ignoring the fact that Evelina knew exactly how they had murdered her mother.
For years, Evelina had been locked in a dark basement, abused by bodyguards, and treated worse than a stray dog.
Why should she, the true heir, suffer in the gutter while the leeches who destroyed her life enjoyed the wealth that rightfully belonged to her?
She refused to be their victim anymore.
Washing away her fake scar to reveal her true, breathtaking face, Evelina blackmailed New York's most lethal billionaire into marriage to secure the ultimate shield.
Then, she put on a black mourning dress, ordered a dark web ghost crew, and climbed into a heavy semi-truck.
At exactly 6:00 PM, she smashed through the iron gates of her family's elegant gala, delivering three pure black coffins directly to the lawn.
7.0
My chest tightened with anticipation, five years of shared struggle culminating in this moment at the Manhattan penthouse banquet. But Chace, my partner, didn't look at me; he turned to Karyn, sliding his family's heirloom emerald ring onto her finger. Then, his voice echoed through the hall, dismissing me as "nothing but an asset under my name to provide entertainment."
My smile froze, the room erupted in laughter, and a cruel kick sent me sprawling, spraining my ankle on the cold marble floor. Karyn mocked me, but it was Chace’s icy gaze that truly shattered me. He dismissed our past, threatening my mother’s grave and my father’s life if I didn't "stay in your place and be an obedient dog."
The man I bled for, starved for, fought for, was a complete stranger, a monster veiled in cold disdain. My heartbreak bled out, replaced by a reckless, destructive madness. This wasn't just humiliation; it was an execution.
Retreating to the lavish restroom, my mind sharpened. I unblocked a forbidden number, a name whispered with terror in the New York underground: Keith Mosley. My text was brief: "I am ready to pay my debt." His reply flashed, stark and dominant: "The price is marriage." This wasn't a price; it was my knife.
8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.
7.7
I trusted the wrong people in my past life.
My supposed lover and my sweet sister conspired against me, locking me inside a burning warehouse to die.
But the man I had spent my life hating, my ruthless captor Damien Sterling, rushed straight into that inferno and burned alive just to try and save me.
In my past life, I was utterly blind. I believed Julian's forged documents and Scarlett's fake affection. I even tried to assassinate Damien with a silver dagger they provided, breaking the heart of the only man who truly loved me. I died choking on thick ash, realizing too late who the real monsters were.
Why was I so incredibly foolish? Why did I let their vicious manipulation turn me into a weapon against the one person who would sacrifice absolutely everything for me?
Opening my eyes again, the phantom smell of smoke vanished.
I was sitting in the bloody water of Damien's bathtub, right after my staged suicide attempt.
When my sister sneaked into my penthouse suite and handed me the dagger to kill him again, I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed her hand tightly and plunged the sharp blade directly into my own shoulder.
"Please don't kill me, Scarlett!"
This time, I will ruthlessly ruin them both, and I will never let Damien go.