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.
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Chapter 2
"Miss Martinez! Are you here to stalk Kayson?"
"Did Henderson family force you out?"
"Are you planning to ruin the show?"
The questions were needles. The flashes were knives. Casey raised her hand, using the back of her wrist to shield her eyes. Her jaw clenched tight.
A male reporter stepped too close, his microphone almost hitting her chin. "Miss Martinez, any comments on being called a desperate stalker?"
Casey didn't speak. She dropped her shoulder and drove it forward, slamming into the reporter's chest.
He gasped, stumbling backward into the crowd. Security guards scrambled, pulling up velvet ropes to hold back the press.
Casey didn't wait. She pushed through the gap, her boots clicking on the polished floor. She walked into the dark tunnel leading to the main stage. The roar of the crowd grew louder.
She took a breath and pushed open the heavy double doors.
Spotlights hit her. Three beams of blinding white light, pinning her in place. The heat from the lamps was suffocating.
Boos erupted from the audience. Thousands of people, screaming their hatred. Holographic comments floated in the air above her head.
Get out of A13!
Toxic bitch!
Go back to the slums!
Casey tilted her head back slightly, scanning the floating text. Her expression didn't change.
Kayson Cross stood on the other side of the stage. The golden boy. The idol. His arms were crossed over his chest, his handsome face twisted in disgust.
He saw her and started walking. Fast. Angry. He stopped inches away from her, towering over her.
"Listen to me," he hissed, his voice low but venomous. "Stop your disgusting games. Stay away from Coralie, or I'll make your life a living hell."
Casey looked at him. Really looked at him. She saw a spoiled brat. A boy playing tough. She felt nothing but a vague sense of confusion. Why was this insect talking to her?
Her silence, her utter lack of reaction, snapped something inside him. Kayson's face turned red. He lunged, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist.
Before he could pull back, her body reacted on pure instinct. She didn't dodge. Instead, she slammed the heel of her palm upward into his wrist, using his own momentum against him. The unexpected, brutal force made him cry out and stumble back. It wasn't a trained martial arts form, just the raw, desperate strength of someone used to fighting for their life.
Kayson gasped. A sharp intake of breath. His knees buckled. His tall frame bent awkwardly as pain shot up his arm.
The audience gasped. The holographic comments froze for a second, then exploded with exclamation marks.
Casey leaned in close, her lips near his ear. "Don't touch me," she whispered, her voice like ice. "You're dirty."
Kayson's face flushed crimson. Humiliation and rage battled in his eyes. He tried to yank his arm away.
Casey let go. Abruptly. He stumbled backward, nearly falling on his ass. He caught himself, rubbing his wrist, staring at her like she was a monster.
Casey slowly clapped her hands together, dusting off invisible dirt. The insult was clear.
The crowd went wild. The comments turned into a wall of hate, demanding her head, but amidst the flood of insults, a few stray comments flickered: 'Damn, that was a clean move.' 'He started it, lol.' 'Who is she? Kinda badass.'
Casey glanced at the floating text. A smirk touched her lips. She raised her left hand, tapping the interface on her wristband. She navigated to the settings.
She hit the button. The holographic comments vanished. The silence in her own head was sudden and absolute.
She turned her back on the audience.
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9.6
Brenda Vincent thought her biggest nightmare was catching her boyfriend cheating with her roommate on her own sofa.
But her life truly derailed after a drunken night led her into the bed of Bryon Reeves, the ruthless billionaire CEO and older brother of the student she tutored.
Trying to pay off the most dangerous man in New York with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was her first mistake.
Fleeing the hotel, she accidentally rear-ended his custom Maybach. Bryon used the massive repair bill to blackmail her into being his fake date, parading her at a gala just to make his sister-in-law jealous.
When Brenda finally snapped and fled the humiliation, only to be rescued by his biggest corporate rival, Bryon's twisted possessiveness turned completely destructive.
"If you feel kidnapped, call the police. But your teaching license will be permanently revoked."
He didn't just threaten her. He systematically dismantled her life, using his influence to force the university to freeze her tenure and suspend her without pay.
Brenda couldn't understand why this terrifying man was going to such extreme lengths to ruin a simple tutor who just wanted to be left alone.
Now, stripped of her career, her income, and her independence, she was forced into the sprawling Reeves Manor.
Hearing the heavy mahogany door lock from the outside in her signal-jammed bedroom, Brenda's panic slowly morphed into a cold, clinical rage.
She was trapped, but she refused to be his helpless pawn.
8.4
For twenty years, I lived as the adopted daughter of the wealthy Hill family.
But today, they forced me to sign a severance agreement and kicked me out so their precious biological daughter, Malia, could marry my fiancé.
To ruin me completely, they framed me for stealing Malia's engagement bracelet, threatening me with prison.
I calmly exposed the "sapphire" as cheap glass, then rolled up my sleeves to show the reporters my scarred, punctured arms.
For two decades, I wasn't a daughter. I was Malia's living blood and bone marrow bank.
They drained my health to keep her alive, even ordering doctors to ignore my failing organs just so she could attend a gala.
"Take this million dollars and shut your mouth," my adoptive father sneered, throwing a check at my feet.
My ex-fiancé looked at me with disgust, and Malia screamed that I was a crazy, vindictive liar.
They had stolen my life and my health, yet they still looked down on me like I was garbage.
I ripped the check into pieces and threw it in their faces.
Just as they ordered the butler to drag me out, a group of men in black suits shattered the chaos.
The heir of the untouchable Montgomery dynasty stepped through the door, ignoring the Hills' fawning, and handed me a DNA report.
I wasn't a disposable blood bag. I was the long-lost true heiress of old New York money.
And now, I was going to take back everything they stole from me.
7.5
Ivy is the last heir of the fallen Highmoor Pack. At sixteen, she entered Silvercrest Pack by a blood contract and became the partner of Alpha heir Julian. For three years, she was loyal and silent, but never loved.
In a crisis, Julian abandoned her and chose Selena. Heartbroken, Ivy insisted on ending the contract. She refused Julian's gifts and threats, determined to regain freedom.
When Ivy was attacked, silver-eyed Silas Blackwood saved her. He is the powerful Lycan King, above all Alphas.
Ivy's wolf awakened and recognized Silas as her real fated mate.
Escaping Julian's control, Ivy broke free from her painful past. Protected by the Lycan King, she regained dignity and strength.
The abandoned Luna finally rises, embracing her true destiny and love.
7.2
Azura Briggs was just a broke college student working freezing valet shifts to pay her adoptive mother's crushing medical debt.
Her desperate life shattered the night a bulletproof Maybach violently cornered her in an alley, and a ruthless billionaire kidnapped her by mistake.
After a harrowing escape, Azura was forced to take a humiliating "plus-one" gig at a high-end gala just to survive. But her date turned out to be the billionaire's arrogant nephew, who promptly abandoned her to the wolves. Cornered by a sleazy executive and his psychotic wife, Azura was publicly slapped, her dress torn, and left bleeding on the floor while hundreds of elites watched in disgust.
Just as she prepared to fight to the death, the crowd violently parted. Hunter Mcintosh, the terrifying man who had kidnapped her days ago, dropped to his knees in the broken glass and wrapped his bespoke jacket around her trembling shoulders.
Azura was completely paralyzed. Why was the monster who threatened her life now destroying billionaires just to protect her?
But the illusion of safety didn't last. Trapped in his Maybach hours later, Hunter threw a draconian employment contract at her feet.
"Sign it, and her care is covered. Forever."
He knew exactly how to break her. He was offering to pay off her mother's debt, but only if she signed her life away to become his personal assistant. With no other way out, Azura picked up the heavy pen.
8.7
I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother.
She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars.
To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day.
Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife.
When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood.
To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt.
My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night.
But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate.
He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline.
I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego.
The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me.
"Annulment. Now," he demanded.
But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter.
"State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."
9.4
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.