Pursued By The Billionaire: Mystic Heiress

Lana gasped for air.

Her lungs burned violently. The heavy, chlorinated water of the Beaumont estate pool flooded her nose and throat. She thrashed against the surface. Her physical weakness fought against a sudden, overwhelming surge of spiritual energy.

A flood of alien memories crashed into her brain. The sheer force of the data transfer caused a sharp, splitting migraine. The soul of the mystic leader of the Order of Xuan was overwriting the remnants of this fragile host. A surge of childish resentment, the ghost of the former soul's pain, rose in her mind. She crushed it instantly with the cold indifference of a thousand-year-old mystic.

She realized her new identity instantly. She was the marginalized biological heiress of the Beaumont family. The girl everyone despised.

Lana grabbed the concrete edge of the pool. Her knuckles turned stark white as she pulled her heavy, soaked body out of the water. She collapsed onto the wet tiles, coughing up pool water.

Dahlia Sharp stood over her. The older woman sneered loudly.

"Look at you. The Rust Belt trash cannot even swim properly. You are an embarrassment to this family."

Dahlia kicked Lana's wet hand. She tried to force the girl back into the deep end of the pool.

Lana's eyes snapped open.

The gaze radiating from her pupils was freezing. It carried a pure, murderous intent that instantly halted Dahlia's movement. The air around them seemed to drop ten degrees.

Dahlia scoffs to hide her sudden, physiological fear. She leaned down, aggressively grabbing a handful of Lana's wet hair.

Lana shifted her weight instantly. She dodged the incoming grab with an unnatural, fluid speed.

Dahlia stumbled forward. Her expensive heels lost their balance completely on the slippery wet tiles.

Lana reached out. Her slender fingers locked onto Dahlia's wrist with an unnervingly precise grip that targeted the nerves. Her physical strength was lacking, but her technique was inescapable.

She applied a precise mystic pressure point technique. A paralyzing shockwave of pain shot straight up Dahlia's arm, locking her joints.

Dahlia shrieked in sheer agony. She dropped hard to her knees on the concrete, her face twisting in pain.

Lana twisted the wrist a fraction of an inch.

"Do not breathe another word," Lana warned coldly.

Rapid footsteps echoed across the patio. Serena Beaumont rushed out from the glass terrace doors, her designer dress fluttering.

Serena saw the scene and immediately screamed.

"Lana! Release your aunt this instant! Are you insane?"

Lana slowly released the wrist. Her expression was completely devoid of any daughterly affection. She looked at her biological mother like a scientist observing a loud insect.

Dahlia scrambled back in terror. She cried hysterically to Serena, clutching her bruised wrist.

"She attacked me! She has psychotic violence in her!"

Serena glared at Lana. Her chest heaved with suppressed rage.

"You are ruining our PR image right before the charity gala! Apologize to Dahlia immediately. If a scandal tanks the company stock, I will throw you back to the slums!"

Lana stared at Serena. She analytically processed the absolute lack of maternal concern. Serena did not care that her daughter had just nearly drowned.

Lana wrung the excess water from her ruined dress. She completely ignored the screaming demand.

Serena stepped forward. She raised her hand high, aiming to slap Lana across the face for her insolence.

Lana caught Serena's descending hand mid-air. Her grip was unyielding and freezing cold.

Lana dropped Serena's hand dismissively.

"I will not apologize for self-defense," Lana stated in a deadpan voice.

Serena gasped. She was completely taken aback. The normally submissive girl suddenly possessed an overwhelming, dominant aura.

Lana turned her back on the two women. Her posture remained perfectly straight despite her dripping, ruined clothes.

She walked steadily toward the estate's back entrance. She left her mother and aunt stunned in absolute silence.

Her wet shoes squeaked on the imported marble floor as she entered the grand hallway. She calculated her next move. Her body was failing, and she needed to fix it.