The Abandoned Heiress Is A Secret Zillionaire
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Seventeen years after going missing, Brooklyn was finally brought back to her ultra-wealthy biological family.
But instead of a tearful reunion, her parents and sisters treated her like infectious garbage, mocking her cheap clothes and calling her a country bumpkin.
They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
She hadn't wandered off as a child.
Her parents had deliberately thrown her away because a fake fortune teller claimed her birth chart was a jinx to the family's wealth.
They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
He had no idea that Brooklyn was the anonymous VIP who casually dropped sixty million dollars on an emerald at the city's most exclusive auction.
He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
The last microscopic shred of hope for a family withered into cold ash in her chest.
"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
Since they believed she was a jinx, she was going to show them exactly what a real curse looked like.
The Abandoned Heiress Is A Secret Zillionaire Chapter 1
The black Maybach crawled up the winding driveway of the Bradshaw estate in the Philadelphia suburbs.
Through the tinted window, Brooklyn Bradshaw stared at the manicured lawns and the towering marble fountain. Her face was a blank canvas. Her pulse didn't flutter. Her breathing remained perfectly even.
Her thumb absentmindedly traced the frayed, unraveling seam hidden along the edge of her washed-out denim jacket, a silent grounding mechanism.
Diana Bradshaw sat beside her on the plush leather seat. The heavy scent of Diana's expensive floral perfume clogged the air in the car, making Brooklyn's chest feel tight.
Diana reached out, her manicured fingers trembling as she tried to cover Brooklyn's hand. Her palm was clammy. A flicker of something ancient and painful stirred in Brooklyn's chest, a ghost of the child who had waited for this touch, but she crushed it instantly. Hope was a dangerous poison.
"Brooklyn," Diana whispered, her voice cracking. "You're home. Mom is going to make everything up to you."
Brooklyn didn't look at her. She smoothly pulled her hand away, letting Diana's fingers grasp empty air.
"Yeah," Brooklyn said. One syllable. Flat and devoid of warmth.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the massive oak double doors. A single, grim-faced butler opened the door without a word, his eyes carefully avoiding hers, making it abundantly clear she was an unwanted burden.
Diana hurried out first, her heels clicking nervously on the pavement.
Brooklyn stepped out a second later. The crisp evening air hit her face. She kept her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her cheap jacket. Against the backdrop of the sprawling, illuminated mansion, she looked like a stain on a pristine white rug.
She squinted as the heavy oak doors swung open. The blinding glare of a massive crystal chandelier spilled out, burning her eyes for a fraction of a second.
She blinked the light away, her expression hardening back into ice, and walked into the grand foyer.
Estelle Bradshaw sat dead center in the living room on a velvet armchair. Her posture was rigid, her hawk-like eyes instantly locking onto Brooklyn. Estelle's lips thinned into a hard, disapproving line.
Bryan Bradshaw stood by the marble fireplace. He didn't step forward. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle ticked visibly beneath his skin. He looked at Brooklyn not as a daughter, but as a piece of trash someone had dragged into his clean house.
On the curved leather sofa sat Harmony and Kristen Bradshaw.
Harmony was picking at her manicured nails. When she heard the footsteps, she looked up. Her eyes raked over Brooklyn's faded jeans and scuffed sneakers. A sharp, grating scoff ripped from Harmony's throat.
"Mom, Bryan," Diana said, her voice overly bright, desperate to fill the suffocating silence. "Brooklyn is back."
Estelle let out a harsh breath through her nose. "This is the wild girl who grew up rolling in the country mud?"
Bryan remained silent. He reached up and yanked at his silk tie, his breathing heavy, as if Brooklyn's mere presence was draining the oxygen from the room.
Harmony shot up from the sofa. She strutted over, the heels of her designer boots clicking sharply against the marble floor. She circled Brooklyn, her eyes wide with exaggerated disgust.
"Did you dig this outfit out of a Goodwill bin?" Harmony sneered, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Oh, wait. Goodwill probably wouldn't even take this garbage."
Kristen stood up immediately, her movements soft and graceful. She caught Harmony's arm, her voice dripping with sweet concern.
"Harmony, don't do that," Kristen said softly. "Our sister just got back. She's probably overwhelmed."
But as Kristen looked at Brooklyn, the corners of her eyes crinkled with a hidden, sickening superiority.
Brooklyn stood completely still. She looked at Harmony the way one might look at a barking stray dog. She didn't flinch. She didn't speak.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Harmony's face flushed a dark, angry red at the blatant dismissal. She stepped closer, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.
"What? Are you deaf? Can't even speak?" Harmony spat. "What a country bumpkin!"
Diana rushed forward, grabbing Harmony's shoulder. "Harmony! Stop it! She is your biological sister!"
Harmony violently shoved Diana's hand away. "My sister? A high school dropout loser deserves to be a Bradshaw? She's a walking disgrace!"
Brooklyn finally blinked. She slowly lifted her chin, her eyes locking onto Harmony's. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
"Your cruelty," Brooklyn said, her voice smooth, low, and cutting like a scalpel, "is very well-mannered."
The foyer went dead silent.
Harmony's mouth dropped open. Her chest heaved as she sucked in a breath, preparing to scream.
Estelle slammed her palm down on the armrest of her chair. The smack echoed loudly.
"No manners!" Estelle barked. "Is this the wild garbage they taught you in the country?"
Bryan finally spoke. His voice was a block of ice.
"Diana, take her upstairs," Bryan ordered, not even looking at Brooklyn. "I don't want to look at her."
Diana swallowed hard. She reached out, her fingers hovering near Brooklyn's arm. "Come on, Brooklyn..."
Brooklyn didn't wait for the touch. She turned on her heel and walked straight toward the grand staircase. Her spine was perfectly straight. Her footsteps were light, steady, and unbothered. She moved through the house like a guest passing through a cheap motel.
Behind her, Kristen leaned in and whispered into Harmony's ear. "Looks like our new sister has quite the temper."
Harmony ground her teeth together. "A country bumpkin. Let's see how long she can act tough."
Halfway up the stairs, Brooklyn paused at the landing. She turned her head slightly, casting a single, sweeping glance over the foyer. There was no hurt in her eyes. Only a deep, chilling mockery.
Down below, Estelle leaned toward Bryan. "We need to get rid of her quickly. She's going to ruin the peace in this house."
Bryan gave a curt nod. "I'll handle it."
Diana led Brooklyn down a long, carpeted hallway to a guest room at the very end. It was far away from the master suite. Far away from Harmony's room. An isolated corner.
Diana stood in the doorway, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Brooklyn, I'm sorry. Mom will figure something out..."
"Don't," Brooklyn said flatly. "I can manage."
She grabbed the door handle and shut it right in Diana's face. The click of the lock was loud and final.
Brooklyn leaned her back against the solid wood door. She let out a slow breath. She reached into the pocket of her cheap jacket and pulled out a sleek, custom-built phone.
The screen lit up instantly. An encrypted message flashed.
Garret Mclean: Boss, arrived in Philly? Need me to clear any obstacles?
Brooklyn's thumbs flew across the glass screen.
Brooklyn: Not yet. Boring place. Keep monitoring. I'll contact you tomorrow.
She slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked over to the large window. Outside, the dark woods surrounding the estate stretched out like a black ocean, with the faint city lights of Philadelphia glowing in the distance.
A cold, sharp smile touched the corners of her mouth.
"Since I'm so unwelcome here," she whispered to the empty room, "let's see exactly how strong this cage is."
She looked at the glass, her reflection staring back with the eyes of a predator stepping into a new hunting ground.
Continue Reading
The Abandoned Heiress Is A Secret Zillionaire of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5
Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
8.6
Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death.
My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck.
It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack.
My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man.
Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger.
"No one should ever touch what is precious to you."
His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
9.2
I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain.
The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust.
Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits?
"Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis."
Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.
8.2
In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual.
But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum.
If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me.
The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother.
I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders.
So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition.
"I will only ever take one mate."
And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap.
"Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."
8.8
On the anniversary of my mother's death, my father, the Alpha, threw a lavish wedding to marry a woman only four years older than me.
My new stepmother publicly humiliated me, stomped on my hand, and shattered the only necklace my mother left me.
When I confronted her, my father slapped me across the face and ordered me to respect my new Luna.
Heartbroken and furious, I publicly disowned them all.
In retaliation, my father sentenced me to death the very next morning.
He offered me as a tribute to the cursed Lycan King—a monster whose beast savagely tore apart every she-wolf sent to his bed.
My family watched with smug satisfaction as I was locked in an iron cage and dragged away, discarded like defective trash simply because I was born wolfless.
I was supposed to be ripped to shreds on my first night in the pitch-black castle.
But as I stood in the King's dark chamber, bracing for the bloody end, nothing happened.
The terrifying beast just sat in the shadows, staring at me in absolute confusion.
That was when the horrifying truth of his curse clicked in my mind.
His madness was triggered by the spiritual scent of an inner wolf. And I was completely wolfless.
The very defect that made my family throw me away was my ultimate, impenetrable shield.
I wasn't going to die here.
I was going to survive, use this terrifying King, and make my family regret the day they ever cast me out.
