
Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!
For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice.
The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home.
My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price.
"You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment.
I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet.
My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them.
As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.
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Chapter 2
"This contains the information regarding your biological parents," Preston said, his voice devoid of inflection. "And the arrangements for the next few days."
Journey reached out. Her hand was steady. She flipped the folder open.
The first photo was of a man. Kamron Cobb. He was wearing a hard hat, his face lined with grit and exhaustion. He looked nothing like Preston. He looked real.
"I'm so sorry," Alleen blurted out. Her voice was high, thin. "I didn't mean to ruin your life, sister. I just wanted to see my mommy and daddy."
She emphasized the words mommy and daddy, dragging the vowels out, turning them into weapons. She looked at Journey, waiting for the crack in the armor.
Victoria leaned in, wrapping an arm around Alleen's shoulders. "It's not your fault, darling. You've suffered enough."
Journey ignored them. She scanned the document. Queens. A fourth-floor walk-up. A food truck business.
It wasn't the Hamptons. It was better. It was anonymous.
Alleen was watching her, eyes darting between Journey's face and the file. She wanted tears. She wanted screaming.
Journey closed the folder. The sound was sharp in the quiet room.
"When do I move out?"
The silence that followed was absolute. Alleen's mouth fell open slightly. Her sob story stalled in her throat.
Preston blinked, thrown off his script. He had expected begging. "Immediately. It's best for everyone."
"Journey," Victoria said, her voice trembling with performed guilt. "We raised you for twenty years. We don't want to be cruel..."
"For Alleen's sake," Journey cut in, her voice smooth as glass. "I should leave quickly. The media will have a field day if I linger. You need to control the narrative."
Alleen bit her lip. She realized, with a dawn of panic, that Journey was managing the situation better than she was. Journey was stealing the victimhood.
"Are you disgusted?" Alleen asked, her voice trembling. "Because my parents are poor? They're good people, even if they don't have... this." She gestured vaguely at the crystal chandelier.
Journey turned her head slowly. She looked at Alleen. She didn't glare. She just looked, dissecting the girl like a frog in biology class.
"I haven't said a word about them," Journey said. "Why are you so eager to tell me how I feel?"
Alleen flushed a blotchy red. She looked down at her hands.
Preston tapped the table, impatient with the female emotions cluttering his schedule. "Enough. Journey, we have prepared a settlement."
Journey raised an eyebrow.
Alleen's head snapped up. The grief vanished, replaced by the sharp calculation of an accountant.
A maid entered, placing a tea service on the table. The china clinked softly. Journey reached for a cup, pouring the tea, adding milk, stirring once, twice, three times. The spoon didn't touch the sides.
Alleen watched the ritual with naked envy. She tried to straighten her spine, mimicking Journey's posture, but she just looked stiff.
"Alleen is new to this life," Victoria said, noticing the contrast. "You'll have to forgive her lack of polish, Journey."
The implication hung in the air: You are the outsider now. You are the guest.
Journey set the cup down. It made a decisive click against the saucer.
"There is nothing to forgive," Journey said. "We are strangers now."
Victoria flinched as if slapped. Her face went pale. She hadn't expected the cut to be so clean.
Preston pulled a check from his jacket pocket. He placed it on the table.
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9.2
He killed my brother. I swore I'd make him pay. But now I'm trapped in his penthouse... and I think I'm falling for him.
As the youngest son of the Romano mafia, Luca swore vengeance on the man who killed his brother-Damian Moretti, the cold, ruthless billionaire don of the rival Moretti family.
But when a failed assassination attempt leaves Luca at Damian's mercy, he's not tortured. He's... kept.
And he says Luca belongs to him now.

7.7
Jaclyn woke up in the sterile hospital room after falling down the stairs. The nurse delivered the devastating news: she had bled heavily and lost her baby.
But before she could even cry, her trusted cousins, Katelyn and Cherri, locked the door and revealed the horrifying truth.
"It wasn't an accident," Katelyn smirked, pinning Jaclyn's arm down. "The lubricant on the top step was a very deliberate choice."
They needed her broken and unstable. They had forged her signature, draining her massive trust fund to save their uncle's bankrupt business.
What shattered Jaclyn's world was the fresh hickey on Cherri's neck. Her lover, Bradford, had helped plan the entire murder.
When Jaclyn tried to scream, they smothered her with a pillow, framing her as a lunatic having a mental breakdown.
Two weeks later, when she confronted them, Bradford violently shoved her through a second-story glass window to silence her forever.
As she fell to her death, the husband she had spent her life hating—the ruthless billionaire Gaines—burst through the doors.
He threw himself forward, his face filled with pure terror, desperately trying to catch her.
When her body hit the stone patio, Gaines fell to his knees in her blood, weeping and begging her not to close her eyes.
Until her last breath, Jaclyn was consumed by suffocating regret. Why did she trust the monsters who killed her, and hate the only man who truly loved her?
Opening her eyes again, she was back in the penthouse, exactly one month into her marriage with Gaines.

8.7
I was pregnant with the future heir of the Blackwood Pack, but my fated mate, Alpha Gavin, was nowhere to be found when sharp, tearing agony ripped through my swollen belly.
Instead of rushing to my side, he was in a luxury penthouse with his mistress, Piper.
When I desperately called his human number for help, it was Piper who answered the phone.
"I'm Piper. His future Luna."
Minutes later, I received a leaked audio file of Gavin promising to formally reject me the moment our pup was born.
Before the heartbreak could even set in, my armored SUV was violently rammed off the road by a massive truck.
It wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit paid for by Piper's pack.
I woke up in the clinic with an empty womb. My pup was dead.
Gavin didn't even show up. He just mind-linked the butler to say he was "too busy" to deal with my loss.
He let his mistress murder our child and treated me like disposable trash, assuming my grief would make me a weak, compliant victim.
He thought he could just bury my trauma and move on with his perfect new life.
He was wrong.
I faked my own death in a fiery crash, leaving him with nothing but my signed rejection papers and the bloody receipt proving his mistress hired the killers.
Now, armed with a new identity and untraceable wealth, I am stepping out of the shadows.
I am going to bankrupt their packs from the inside out and make my former Alpha watch his empire burn.

7.9
Cora Foster was a brilliant archaeologist, but a jagged burn scar across her face made the world treat her like a contagious monster.
During an elite excavation of a Gilded Age crypt, touching an ancient artifact triggered a terrifying memory. She remembered being Seraphina Beaumont, a socialite brutally buried alive by her vain, cruel sister, Isolde.
When the team pried open the crypt's pristine mahogany casket, they cheered, believing the mummified corpse inside was Seraphina. But Cora recognized the onyx hairpin and the angular jawline. It was Isolde. The sister who had stolen her life, mocked her agony, and left her to suffocate in the dark. Her colleagues scoffed at her forensic proof, dismissing her as a scarred, delusional liability.
Worse, the ruthless billionaire funding the expedition, Julian Montgomery, was the spitting image of Alistair—the man Seraphina had deeply loved. Why was Julian staring at her ruined face with such intense, inexplicable recognition? And why did Isolde take Seraphina's most precious silver ring to the grave?
Driven by a century of agonizing grief, Cora secretly pried the tarnished ring from the mummy's stiff, dead fingers and dropped it into her pocket.
"What are you looking at, Foster?"
Julian's deep voice vibrated inches from her ear, his cold, predatory eyes locked directly onto her half-open pocket.

8.7
On the night of her engagement, Lila Hart discovers that her fiancé isn't just cheating-he's selling her to the cruel Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack to settle a debt.
Dragged into the arms of Damien Blackwood, a ruthless billionaire Alpha feared across the werewolf world, Lila vows to escape. But Damien isn't what he seems-behind his icy exterior lies a dangerous secret... one that ties Lila to him in ways neither can deny.

8.4
In her past life, Serena Vale was the perfect daughter and sister. She sacrificed everything, her dreams, her university admission, and even her inheritance, so her stepsister could live the life she deserved.
But kindness was repaid with betrayal.
At twenty-eight, just hours after her billionaire fiancé finally proposed, Serena was poisoned by the very sister she had spent her life protecting.
When she opens her eyes again, Serena is eighteen, back to the day before she is supposed to give up her university admission to her stepsister.
This time, she refuses.
She keeps her future.
She takes back her inheritance.
And the cold billionaire her sister desperately wanted?
Serena decides to claim him first.
Not because she loves him but because she knows that in ten years, Adrian Kingsley will become one of the richest men in the world.
But things start changing.
The supposedly distant and emotionless billionaire is watching her closely... protecting her... and looking at her as if she belongs to him.
And sometimes, when their eyes meet, Serena wonders
Does he remember their past life too?
This time, Serena isn't the naive girl who died with regrets.
This time, she's here for revenge