The Discarded Heiress Owns The Wasteland
Casey woke up with a throbbing skull in a glamorous dressing room, facing a public execution by an internet mob.
Her wealthy family had thrown her away. Her hypocritical sister, Coralie, forced a holographic tablet into her hands, demanding she join a deadly survival reality show on a wasteland planet.
"It's what Mommy wants. If you don't sign, you're dead to the Hendersons."
The whole world wanted her dead. On the live broadcast, billions of viewers cursed her as a toxic stalker. The golden boy idol Kayson physically attacked her to defend Coralie's honor. Even the show's staff mocked her, deliberately leaving her with nothing but a torn, broken tent and a single bottle of water for the lethal alien wilderness.
The universe was playing a cruel joke on her. She was framed as the villain of her sister's perfect story, banished to a wasteland where everyone expected her to cry, beg, and die on live television.
But they didn't know she had already survived a decade in the ruins. Casey didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she invoked a hidden contract clause, demanding a full year on the planet instead of the standard month.
"I'll survive for a year, and the planet becomes mine."
She grabbed her broken tent, stepped onto the red alien dirt, and prepared to show the universe what a real predator looked like.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 1
The cold floor bit into Casey's cheek. A sharp, throbbing pain exploded at the base of her skull, pulling her from the void. Her eyes snapped open.
Blurry lights. The smell of synthetic cleaner and expensive perfume. Not the wasteland. Not the smell of ash and rot.
Her body moved before her mind caught up. She rolled, muscles coiling, pushing herself up into a crouch. Her hands curled into fists, knuckles white, ready to strike. Her eyes, sharp and cold as steel, swept the room.
A dressing room. Mirrors, bright lights, racks of clothes. A place for the privileged. A place she did not belong.
A wave of dizziness hit her. She grabbed the edge of the makeup counter, her nails scraping against the hard surface. Memories she had buried deep within her flooded her brain. Not just of the wasteland she had conquered—the decade spent as a ruthless warlord scavenging radioactive ruins, fighting feral mutants, leading a gang of hardened survivors. And then, the tear in reality. The blinding light. The death that was supposed to be final.
But death had not wanted her. Instead, she had woken up here. In a new body. A younger, softer body. A body that could do something her old one never could: shift. She could feel the beast coiled inside her ribs—a massive, fanged creature of fur and claw. In this strange future, she had become a shifter. A rare female. And in this society, females were treasures, allowed—even encouraged—to take multiple male mates.
The sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from the hallway. Fast. Deliberate. Getting closer.
The door flew open. Harsh light from the corridor spilled in, making Casey squint.
Coralie Henderson stood there. A white dress hugged her perfect body. Her face was a mask of concern, but her eyes flickered with a quick flash of disgust before she schooled her features.
"Sister!" Coralie rushed forward, hands outstretched, reaching for Casey's arm.
Casey moved. A simple shift of her body, a step to the side. Coralie's hands grabbed nothing but air. She stumbled slightly, her perfect smile freezing on her face.
"Don't touch me," Casey said. Her voice was flat. Empty.
Coralie blinked. Her eyes watered instantly. The tears looked practiced. "Casey, I'm so worried about you. You fell... you need to sign the contract. It's the only way to fix your reputation. Please, for the family."
Casey crossed her arms over her chest. She stared at Coralie. The girl was a terrible liar. Her pulse was steady. Her breathing was even. This was a performance.
Coralie shifted under the cold gaze. She swallowed hard and gestured to an assistant waiting by the door, who quickly brought a holographic tablet to her. Coralie snatched it and held it out like a shield.
"It's what Mommy wants," Coralie said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She said if you don't sign, you're dead to the Hendersons."
Mommy. The word hit the air like a slap. Casey's eyes narrowed. A chill settled in her gaze. She reached out and snatched the tablet from Coralie's hands.
She didn't look at the main text. That was garbage. The main text was just the show's rules: survive on Planet A13 for one year, attract male mates, entertain the audience. The usual degrading spectacle designed to break people like her. She scrolled down, fast. Her eyes, trained by a decade of scanning for danger in the ruins, caught every word. Termination clauses. Liability waivers. And then, at the very bottom, in a font so small it was almost invisible.
Clause 7.4: Any participant surviving a full standard year on Planet A13 shall be granted absolute ownership of the planetary body and all resources contained therein.
Casey's breath hitched. A planet. Valued at 460 billion credits. A fortress. A home. A deal too good to be true. They thought they were sending a weak, disgraced girl to die on a monster-infested world, torn apart by beasts or rejected by her potential mates. But they didn't know about the wasteland. They didn't know about the
ten years of blood and fire. She was going to live. She was going to win. And she was going to own this planet.
Coralie leaned in, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I know it's scary, Casey. The wild planet is dangerous. But you have to try, right? For the men?"
Casey looked up. The cold calculation in her eyes made Coralie take a step back.
Casey grabbed the stylus from the counter. She pressed the tip to the screen. Coralie held her breath, her eyes bright with anticipation.
Casey signed her name. The strokes were sharp, aggressive, slashing across the digital paper like a blade.
A green light flashed. Contract binding.
Casey tossed the stylus onto the counter. It clattered loudly in the quiet room. She stood up straight. She was taller than Coralie. The height advantage, combined with the sheer force of her presence, turned the dynamic upside down.
Coralie stumbled back another step, her face pale.
Casey smirked. A look of pure contempt. She walked past Coralie, her shoulder brushing the other girl's, forcing her to move aside.
Casey grabbed the door handle and shoved it open.
The hallway exploded with light. Cameras flashed like strobes, blinding her. Microphones were shoved in her face. The noise was a physical assault.
You may also like
8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
7.4
Avery thought she'd found her happily ever after with Ethan, the charming billionaire who swept her off her feet in Willow Creek. But after one night of passion, he vanished, leaving her heartbroken and alone. She returned home to find her grandmother, her only family, had passed away.
Devastated, Avery discovered a shocking truth: she was the daughter of a millionaire who'd left her a vast fortune. Relocated to New York, she met Ethan again, but this time, he was determined to win her back. Unbeknownst to him, Avery had been hiding a life-changing secret: she's the mother of his twin babies.
As Avery navigates her complicated past and the wicked family members who despise her, Ethan's pursuit becomes relentless. He'll stop at nothing to reclaim the love they shared, but Avery's secrets threaten to tear them apart. Can she trust him with her heart and the truth about their children, or will it drive them further apart?
Ethan's words echoed in her mind: "I've been searching for you for six years, Avery. I won't let you go again." But Avery's secrets were only the beginning. Little did Ethan know, their love story was only just beginning...
7.2
Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years.
But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap.
They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal.
When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face.
The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago—how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé.
Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement.
"You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!"
Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic.
They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again.
She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night.
Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger.
"Are you single? Marry me right now."
She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.
7.4
Frieda married Dewitt believing he was just a struggling middle-manager, living in a cramped apartment with only seventy-two dollars left to her name.
She had no idea her cold husband was actually a ruthless billionaire running a cruel psychological test on her. Convinced she might be a gold digger, Dewitt gave her a meager allowance, keeping the divorce papers ready the moment she showed any greed.
While Dewitt secretly judged her every move, Frieda suffered endlessly. At her toxic workplace, she was relentlessly bullied by her arrogant in-laws and mocked for her scuffed shoes. Even after she risked her life to protect his grandmother from an armed mugger and exposed her own hidden tech genius, her coworkers still treated her like trailer-park trash. They cornered her on the street, pointing fingers in her face.
"You are a shameless, gold-digging whore! A billionaire would never want you!"
She endured the humiliation, having just rejected a priceless no-limit black card from his family out of pure principle. She truly believed she and her husband were fighting through poverty together. She had no idea her "poor" husband was watching her every struggle from the tinted windows of a hidden Maybach across the street.
But when her bullies finally pushed too far and raised a hand to strike her, the icy wall around the billionaire's heart completely shattered. Dewitt tore up the divorce papers, his eyes turning pitch black with murderous rage.
"If anyone ever raises a hand to her again, break it."