
The Lost Heiress Returned: Stay With Me, My Two-Faced Goddess
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Following twenty years away from home, Cathleen returned expecting family, but all she received was contempt.
Her parents sneered, "You may share our blood, but someone as exceptional as your sister is the only one fit to be our daughter."
Her brother scoffed, "Ashley is my only sister. Get out of here, you country bumpkin!"
Her so-called sister put on a sugary smile. "You won't mind if I borrow your fiancé, will you?"
Cathleen stayed unshaken and walked into a contract marriage with Matthew, who believed he had married a useless woman.
Then her masks fell one by one-divine doctor, underground boxing queen, elite hacker, phantom racer, AI genius, and powerful heiress. Even the comics his sister adored, and the only voice that could ever lull him to sleep, belonged to her.
Matthew pinned her wrists down, his dark gaze locking onto her. "Just how many secrets are you keeping from me?"
Cathleen flipped his hold, her smile calm. "The contract ends tomorrow. Remember to get the divorce."
He grinned, "Absolutely not. Not now, not ever."
The Lost Heiress Returned: Stay With Me, My Two-Faced Goddess Chapter 1
It was the peak of summer, and the space outside the City Hall in Oqruron was alive with activity.
Cathleen Stewart stood within the crowd, tiny beads of perspiration gathering across her forehead.
The smooth skin of her face and her long lashes made her strikingly beautiful, so much so that people found it hard not to stare. Yet her detached, almost distant air felt oddly mismatched with the oppressive heat and the surrounding commotion.
She was dressed in a worn-out shirt paired with simple jeans—her daily clothing.
She had spent the past twenty years living in isolation deep in the mountains. Never once had she expected that her first step after leaving that life behind would be getting married.
Her thoughts drifted back to the final words of Erin Warren, the person who had taken her in when she was an infant. She tilted her head slightly, looking up at the sky. Without a watch or a phone, she had no choice but to judge the time by the position of the sun.
By her estimate, it was close to three in the afternoon. A faint frown formed between her brows.
It was already three, yet the man she was meant to marry still hadn't shown up.
The blare of a car horn suddenly broke her thoughts. A black Maybach sedan slowly rolled to a stop beside the leaning tree nearby.
The passenger door swung open, and a well-dressed man stepped out briskly. He moved to the rear of the vehicle and opened the door with clear deference for whoever sat inside.
When the man seated in the back stepped out, even Cathleen found herself slightly taken aback, one eyebrow lifting.
His face was sharply defined, with a clean, angular jaw. He stood tall, his presence commanding, his broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. Both his build and appearance could only be described as flawless.
"Cathleen Stewart?" he asked, his tone cold as the words left his lips.
Cathleen met his eyes and gave a small nod. "Yes, that's me."
"I'm Matthew Spencer. Let's go." Without another word, he turned and headed straight for the entrance, making no effort to wait for her.
Momentarily caught off guard, Cathleen hurried after him and called out, "Wait!"
Matthew stopped and glanced back with a slight scowl, his eyes carrying an unmistakable warning. "I only have ten minutes for this."
A hint of irritation stirred within Cathleen. Was he really that eager to rush through a marriage?
Erin had once owed Matthew's grandfather, Edmund Spencer, a significant debt of gratitude. As she lay dying, she made Cathleen promise to marry into the Spencer family as a way of repaying that favor. If not for that obligation, Cathleen would have turned around and left the instant she encountered someone as insufferable as Matthew.
Before Cathleen could respond, Matthew had already entered the City Hall.
Years of rigorous physical training in the mountains had kept Cathleen in excellent condition, so despite Matthew's long strides and brisk pace, she had no trouble keeping up with him.
What followed was over almost as quickly as it began: documents filled out, signatures exchanged, formalities completed.
Ten minutes later, Cathleen and Matthew emerged from the City Hall, walking out one after the other.
Just before getting into the car, Matthew paused, turned back, and handed her a bank card. "There's no limit to this card, and it doesn't require a PIN. Use it however you like. Our place is House 16 in Ravine Estates. The entry code is four eights."
Without another word, he slid into the car, not bothering to look back, leaving Cathleen standing in the lingering haze of exhaust.
She lowered her eyes to the card in her hand. During her years up in the mountains, she had relied almost entirely on cash whenever she came down to buy essentials, rarely ever using a bank card.
With little thought, she slipped it into her backpack, then turned and headed off in the opposite direction.
...
The Stewart family had gathered around the dining table. A birthday cake sat at the center as everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to the young woman seated in the middle—Ashley Stewart.
"Go ahead and make a wish, Ashley!" her mother, Suzanne Stewart, said warmly, smiling.
Ashley brought her hands together, her face glowing with delight.
"So, what is your wish for this year?" her father, Bruce Stewart, asked, gently tousling her hair with clear affection.
Ashley blinked playfully and replied in a light, teasing tone, "Dad, if I say it out loud, it won't come true!"
Cathleen was actually Bruce and Suzanne's biological daughter. Today, the Stewarts were supposed to bring her back, yet not one of them was willing to make the trip to that remote mountain area. Instead, they stayed at home, celebrating Ashley's birthday. Though they had recently discovered Ashley was not related to them by blood, it didn't affect their love for her. After all, they had raised her with great care for two decades.
Kevan Stewart, the Stewart couple's first son, handed her a gift wrapped in luxury-brand packaging. "It's the bag you've been wanting, Ashley. I ordered it from Miaburgh."
Ashley's eyes lit up with excitement. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and said sweetly, "I knew you were the best brother ever!"
Kevan smiled at her, his expression full of fondness. "Of course I am. I'll always pamper my little sister."
Ashley pulled back slightly, though a trace of unease flickered in her eyes. "But I won't be your only sister anymore."
At that, Kevan's expression changed, and a cold look passed over his otherwise handsome face.
Outside the house, Cathleen was speaking to the butler. "I'm part of the family. Could you let them know I'm here, please?"
The butler looked her over disdainfully, as though she were something unclean. He stepped back noticeably, increasing the distance between them, and said with irritation, "The family is busy celebrating Miss Stewart's birthday. Whatever you need can wait until tomorrow. And look at what you're wearing; don't come in here and spoil everyone's mood."
Though he mumbled the last part under his breath, Cathleen caught every word.
A faint coldness settled into her eyes as she glared at him.
He was about to continue with harsher remarks, but something in her eyes unsettled him enough that the words stuck in his throat.
Ignoring him completely, Cathleen surveyed the area, then stepped forward and pressed the fire alarm mounted on the wall.
At once, a piercing alarm rang throughout the house. Within moments, people began rushing out.
Bruce's voice rang out angrily. "What's going on here?"
The butler quickly moved forward to explain, and only then did the Stewarts turn their attention toward Cathleen.
Suzanne parted her lips as if she were about to speak and even took a step forward, but Ashley quickly looped her arm through hers.
Bruce and Kevan both maintained rigid expressions, while Ashley, positioned between them, didn't bother concealing the challenge and contempt in her eyes.
Cathleen absorbed the scene quietly. It was obvious to her that no one was happy to see her.
Still, it made no difference to her. She casually walked over with her backpack on and greeted every one of them.
Bruce responded with nothing more than a brief nod before turning around and heading back inside.
The rest followed after him.
The moment Cathleen stepped into the house, her eyes fell on the birthday cake arranged on the table and the decorations covering the walls. A cold smile appeared at the corners of her lips.
Two decades earlier, Kevan, who was a small child back then, had accidentally switched the name tags on the hospital bassinets. Because of that mistake, Ashley had been brought home by the Stewarts, while Cathleen ended up abandoned by Ashley's parents and left outside in the bitter cold.
If Erin hadn't happened to come down from the mountains and notice her, Cathleen would not have survived that winter.
The Stewart family had uncovered the truth and tracked her down a month ago, yet they had made no effort to bring her back.
It was only after Edmund called, requesting that Cathleen marry his grandson, that they finally decided to bring her back today.
Cathleen had waited the entire morning in the mountains, but no one had ever showed up.
Now she realized they had been preoccupied with celebrating Ashley's birthday.
Cathleen's eyes dimmed slightly. She had a feeling that her parents had long since forgotten that today was her birthday as well.
"Something came up today, so we were delayed and couldn't go pick you up," Bruce said, his tone carrying little warmth for the daughter who was essentially a stranger to him. He walked to the table, took a seat, and got straight to the matter at hand. "We wanted you back to talk about the marriage with the Spencer family."
At the mention of the Spencer family, the others, who had remained silent until then, began to chime in.
Suzanne started with a few perfunctory expressions of concern. When Cathleen didn't react, she turned impatient. She went on to lavish praise on Matthew while repeatedly elevating Ashley, making it unmistakably clear that she believed Cathleen was not a suitable match and that only Ashley deserved that position.
After finishing her speech, Suzanne spoke in a soft yet firm tone. "Ashley has always had feelings for Matthew. You should let her take your place in this marriage."
"I know this isn't fair to you, but we'll compensate you," Bruce added. "You've never had any formal education, so I'll arrange for you to attend a good school."
Kevan let out a derisive snort. "You're just an uneducated girl from some backwater. You can't compare to Ashley. Why would someone like Matthew ever choose you?"
A flicker of satisfaction flashed through Ashley's eyes, though she quickly masked it with a shy expression. "Don't say that, Kevan. Matthew isn't someone who looks down on others. Besides, Cathleen simply never had the opportunity to study. I can help her with it from now on."
"Are you all done?" Cathleen raised her eyes and, in an even tone, delivered a statement that stunned them all. "Matthew and I are already married."
Continue Reading
The Lost Heiress Returned: Stay With Me, My Two-Faced Goddess of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 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

8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.

9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.

9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.

9.0
Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield.

9.5
Frances survived a horrific car crash, only to return to a suffocating life. Her wealthy husband, Baron, and his domineering mother were now relentlessly pressuring her to adopt a "poor, distant relative" named Jagger as the heir to their billionaire empire.
But on her way to sign the adoption papers, a violent vision flashed in her mind. The crash wasn't an accident. She saw her car in flames, while Baron watched with cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood an older Jagger, who calmly muttered the chilling truth.
"The problem is solved."
A private investigator soon confirmed her worst nightmares. Jagger wasn't a charity case; he was Baron's illegitimate son. The family had been illegally funneling offshore money to fund his elite lifestyle. Worse, Baron's ultimate plan was to label Frances mentally unstable, lock her away in a Swiss sanatorium for life, and bring in Jagger's biological mother to take her place.
For years, Frances had played the perfect, obedient wife in their corporate marriage contract. How could they be so ruthlessly evil, plotting her agonizing death just to legitimize their dirty bloodline and steal her trust fund?
But she was no longer the fragile puppet they thought she was. At the high-stakes board meeting, with all eyes expecting her to submit, she put the expensive pen down.
"I refuse."
Instead of adopting their bastard son, she slammed down an SEC whistleblower threat, forced a new will, and introduced her own handpicked heir. The war had just begun.

9.0
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.








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