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 5
The argument inside cut off instantly. The silence that followed was heavy.
Heavy footsteps approached the door. The lock turned with a scrape of metal on metal. The door swung open.
A young man stood there. He was about Journey's age, maybe a year older. He wore a faded NYU t-shirt and held a thick medical textbook in one hand. His eyes were dark, intelligent, and guarded.
He looked at Journey. He looked at the trunks. He looked at her bare feet.
Behind him, a woman wiped her eyes with a dish towel. Elara Cobb.
"Hi," Journey said. Her voice was steady, despite her racing heart. "I'm Journey. I think... I think we were switched."
The book slipped from the young man's hand. He caught it against his leg, fumbling.
Elara dropped the towel. She rushed forward, pushing past the young man. She stopped inches from Journey, her hands hovering in the air, trembling.
"Oh, God," Elara whispered. "Oh, my God."
She reached out, her rough, calloused fingers brushing Journey's cheek. Journey didn't flinch. She leaned into the touch.
"You look just like your grandmother," Elara sobbed. Tears spilled over, tracking through the lines on her face.
The young man-Nolan, Journey's brain supplied from the file-grabbed Journey's arm and pulled her inside. He scanned the hallway nervously before slamming the door and engaging the deadbolt.
The apartment was small. Claustrophobic. The living room was cluttered with boxes, stacks of paper, and bottles of medication. The walls were covered in framed certificates-perfect attendance, honor roll. The family's wealth was on the walls, not in the bank.
"Water?" Nolan asked. He went to the kitchenette and came back with a glass. It had a chip in the rim.
"Thank you." Journey took it and drank. The water tasted metallic. She didn't care.
"We... we didn't know you were coming today," Elara stammered, wringing her hands. "Alleen said..." She stopped, pain flashing across her face.
"Alleen is where she wants to be," Journey said gently. She set the glass down. "And I am where I should be."
Nolan narrowed his eyes. "Do you know what that means? This isn't Kensington Manor. We don't have staff."
"I know," Journey said. She met his gaze. "I brought my luggage. I didn't bring the privilege."
It was a lie. She brought power he couldn't imagine, but he didn't need to know that yet.
Elara looked like she wanted to hug Journey but was afraid of staining the white silk blouse.
Journey stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman. She smelled of onions and old soap. It was the most grounding smell Journey had encountered in years.
"Mom," she whispered. "I'm home."
Elara broke. She wailed, burying her face in Journey's shoulder.
Nolan watched them, his jaw tight. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex equation.
"You're Nolan," Journey said, pulling back slightly but keeping an arm around Elara. Her eyes drifted to the bookshelf behind him, noting the spine of a heavy 'Gray's Anatomy' and a stethoscope draped over a chair. "Pre-med?"
Nolan stiffened. "You're observant."
"I pay attention to details," Journey said softly.
She didn't mention that she was the anonymous donor behind the scholarship that paid his tuition. That was a secret for another day.
The sound of keys jingling came from outside the door.
Nolan's posture shifted. He moved in front of Journey and Elara, protective.
"Dad and the boys are home," he said.
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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