Reborn Heiress: The Shadow Regent's Obsession
I stood as a ghost, watching the rhythmic thud of dirt hitting my own casket. My father, Senator Ellwood, dabbed his eyes for the cameras while my stepmother, Carroll, played the grieving mother perfectly, even though they were the ones who had paved the way for my murder.
The vision shifted to a high-rise office where Isadore Walker, the terrifying "Shadow Regent," was methodically bankrupting every elite family that had betrayed me. He pressed a silver koi fish necklace to his lips and triggered a massive explosion, choosing to burn the entire world down just to join me in death.
"Little Fish," he whispered.
In my first life, I was a naive pawn who believed my best friend, Catarina, when she claimed I simply slipped into the pool at my Debutante Ball. I let the opportunistic Cody Stevens play the hero who "saved" me, leading to a hollow engagement that ended in my ruin. I never knew that my stepmother had conspired with our housekeeper to hide my true identity and keep me from my biological family.
I died without ever understanding why Isadore, a man who treated me with cold indifference, would sacrifice everything for my sake. I didn't know that my entire life was a web of kidnappings and bribes designed to keep me as a political pawn.
Suddenly, the heat of the explosion warped into the agonizing burn of icy water. I broke the surface, gasping for air, back at the very party where my downfall began three years ago.
As I climbed out, I didn't look for Cody’s help. I wrapped myself in Isadore’s sandalwood-scented jacket and felt the cold steel of the tactical knife he had left in the pocket. This time, I wasn't the victim; I was the one who would light the fuse.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Isadore didn't look at Ali. He looked at the crowd.
"I was on the terrace," he said, his voice carrying a deliberate weight. "My view of the pool deck was... unobstructed."
He pointed a gloved finger at Catarina.
"I saw her put two hands on Miss Lancaster's back and shove."
Catarina's knees gave out. She collapsed into her mother's arms, wailing.
"No! He's lying!" Mrs. Collins screamed. "He's lying to protect her!"
Isadore slowly turned his head to look at Mrs. Collins. It was like watching a lion turn its attention to a yapping dog.
"Are you questioning my eyesight, Mrs. Collins?" he asked softly. "Or my integrity?"
The room went cold. Questioning Isadore Walker's integrity in D.C. was a death sentence for one's social and financial life. He was the Shadow Regent. He held the secrets of half the Senate in his safe.
Mrs. Collins clamped her mouth shut, trembling.
Isadore gestured to the shadows behind him. A man stepped forward. He wore a rumpled suit and wire-rimmed glasses.
Bertram Schmidt. The Federal Prosecutor.
A collective gasp went through the room. Why was the Federal Prosecutor at a debutante ball?
"Mr. Walker invited me for a drink," Schmidt said, adjusting his glasses. "We were discussing... policy. He directed my attention to the pool just moments before the incident."
Two witnesses. One was the most powerful power broker in the city, the other was the law itself.
"Given the depth of the pool and the weight of the victim's dress," Schmidt continued, his tone dry and clinical, "this constitutes attempted murder. Or at the very least, aggravated assault with intent to cause great bodily harm."
"Arrest her," Schmidt said to the security team.
"Daddy!" Catarina screamed as the guards moved in. "Daddy, do something!"
Her father, Mr. Collins, stood frozen in the crowd, looking at Isadore. He knew better than to intervene. He looked away.
As Catarina was dragged out, kicking and screaming obscenities, the ballroom felt strangely empty.
Isadore finally moved. He walked over to Ali.
He stood close. Too close for a stranger. She could smell the tobacco smoke clinging to him.
He began to peel off his black leather gloves. Finger by finger. The movement was slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic.
"Your hand," he said.
Ali looked down at her right hand. It was stinging. Her palm was red from the force of the slap.
"It's fine," she said.
"It's red," he corrected.
He held out his gloves.
"Next time," he said, his voice dropping an octave so only Ali could hear, "wear these. You shouldn't bruise your skin on trash."
Ali's breath hitched.
This was... intimate. Possessive.
The debutantes nearby were staring with their mouths open. Isadore Walker, the Ice King, was offering his gloves to the girl who just fell in a pool?
Ali took the gloves. The leather was still warm from his hands.
"Thank you, Mr. Walker," she said.
His eyes narrowed slightly at the formal address.
"Isadore," he corrected.
Senator Ellwood bustled over, sweating profusely. "Mr. Walker, thank you for... clarifying things. Though, surely, arrest is a bit harsh? It's just a girls' spat..."
Isadore turned on him.
"Ellwood," he said, his voice like a whip crack. "Your daughter was nearly drowned. And you are worried about the optics?"
Ellwood flinched. "I... no, of course not. I just..."
"You are a disappointment," Isadore said. He didn't shout, but the words echoed.
He turned back to Ali, and for a moment, she saw the man from her vision. The man who had burned the world for her.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Ali clutched his gloves. "I am now."
He nodded, once. "Good."
He didn't leave. He stood beside her, a dark monolith, creating a barrier between her and the rest of the world.
You may also like
9.5
The disgraced daughter of the Patton family is back from the countryside.At the news, everyone spurned her with contempt!
A good-for-nothing young lady, a crude village wench, a vicious devil...
Until one day--The world-famous life-saving medical sovereign is her.The enigmatic top forensic specialist is her.The grandmaster hacker hunted across the globe is also her.
One hidden identity of the young miss came to light after another.Shocked and dumbfounded, the crowd fell to their knees to beg for forgiveness.
In an instant, Evie was cornered by the mysterious powerhouse.Hartwell's voice lured and mesmerized:"Darling, you have countless secret identities. Would you mind taking on one more, being my wife!"
9.8
Four years ago, I was drugged on a luxury yacht and ended up pregnant with twins.
I raised them in secret, enduring my stepfamily's daily abuse, until the billionaire West family patriarch cornered us at the airport.
He instantly recognized my son's face—an exact replica of his ruthless grandson, Bernardo West.
My malicious stepmother and stepsister immediately leaked to the press that I was a delusional gold-digger using fake kids to trap a billionaire.
They wanted the West family to destroy me to save their own social standing.
Bernardo himself looked at me with pure disgust, demanding a DNA test.
"If you ever lie to me, I will take the children, and I will make you wish you were never born."
I didn't want his money. I was a victim of that night too, left with a crescent-shaped bite mark on my collarbone and zero memory of who set us up.
Why did someone drug us? And how could I protect my babies from a corporate predator who could crush me with a snap of his fingers?
But when the DNA test came back 99.9999% positive, I didn't cower.
I showed him the scar he left on me, looked the most dangerous man in the country right in the eye, and made my demand.
"If you want to claim your heirs, you have to marry me."
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.
7.6
"One signature. One life-long debt. One night to change everything."
Elara Vance thought she could escape her family's dark past, until the ruthless tech-mogul Silas Vane corners her with a contract she can't refuse. Her father didn't just owe Silas money-he owed him a blood-oath.
The deal is simple: Marry Silas for 365 days, endure his cold touch, and play the perfect doll for the media. In return, her family's sins are erased. But Silas isn't just looking for a wife; he's looking for the woman who shattered his heart ten years ago.
Elara is wearing a dead woman's face, and Silas is a man who never forgets a betrayal. As the line between hate and heat blurs, Elara realizes the debt isn't money... it's her heart. And Silas Vane is coming to collect.
9.2
"W..who are you?" She stuttered, taking backward steps towards the door, heart pounding in her chest.
"Well, I can be whoever you want me to be" he drawled, taking little steps till he had her cornered with no way out. "I can be your poison or your antidote. I can be your bane or your comfort. I can even be your nightmare or your dream."
With each word, he traced circles on my skin, sending fire through me.
"So Kitten, who do you want me to be?"
Katarina Richards, a timid second generation finds her world thrown into disarray when she is suddenly informed of her betrothal to the number one business mogul in the state.
She cannot fight for her freedom nor can she accept a man she never met so she decides to be brave for once and runs.
She runs as far as she can hoping for a fresh start and she finds it.
Or so she thinks.
She will soon come to realize that she can never outrun her destiny.
Or should I say, she can never outrun him?
Follow Katarina as she is plunged into a world of lies, betrayal, war, lust, and power.
Will she come out of it all with her dream life or will she be pushed into a nightmare?