The Lost Heiress Returned: Stay With Me, My Two-Faced Goddess
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."
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Chapter 3
"Ashley!" Bruce never imagined the whip would strike Ashley instead. He let it fall from his hand and hurried over to her. The sight of the mark on her face made his chest tighten with pain. His eyes burned with anger as he stared at Cathleen. "Cathleen, she's your sister! How could you be so cruel as to use her as a shield?"
Cathleen lowered her eyes briefly before meeting his eyes with icy indifference. "You were the one swinging it. How is that my responsibility?"
"I was aiming at you! If you weren't so vicious, Ashley wouldn't have been hurt!" Bruce snapped, his temper boiling over as his words struck Cathleen like blades.
A faint, frosty smile touched Cathleen's lips. "You never acted like a father to me. What gives you the right to lecture me now?"
Bruce was beyond furious. "You've completely lost control. Get out! And don't even think about coming back here without my permission."
Cathleen had no interest in continuing the argument. She turned toward the butler. "Where's my room?"
After walking all day, she was drained. There was no chance she was leaving. Bruce had no authority over her.
The butler, still stunned, instinctively pointed to a room on the second floor.
Cathleen gave a small nod. "Thanks."
As she headed upstairs without sparing anyone a glance, Bruce shook with rage. "Cathleen! Didn't you hear me? Stop right where you are!"
Without turning around, she flicked her hand dismissively. "If anyone's leaving, it should be you. I don't have time for this."
With that, she disappeared around the staircase corner, leaving the rest of the family fuming in the chaos she left behind.
Bruce clutched his chest, cursing under his breath. "What an ungrateful girl! I never should've allowed her to come back."
Through her tears, Ashley spoke up. "Dad, she and Matthew are already married. What about me?"
Still seething, Bruce grew even more impatient. "They're legally married. What do you expect me to do? At the end of the day, she's still my daughter. We're not losing anything from this marriage."
Ashley tightened her fists, her face filled with hurt and resentment. "Yeah, you're right. Cathleen is your biological daughter. I'm just—"
Kevan couldn't bear to hear her diminish herself and cut her off. "Ashley, don't say things like that. To me, you're my only sister. Cathleen means nothing."
"Ashley, hearing you say that breaks my heart. Don't you know how much I've cherished you all these years?" Suzanne quickly added, trying to comfort her.
Ashley pouted slightly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm just scared that once Cathleen is back, you won't love me the same way."
"How could that ever happen? You're the most important person to us. That will never change."
Upstairs, Cathleen leaned against the wall, looking down at the display of family affection below. A look of contempt crossed her face before she turned and walked into her room.
...
At the Spencer residence, the moment Matthew stepped into the living room, Edmund's lively voice rang out. "Did you get married?"
Matthew let out a cold laugh. "Didn't you have someone following me? You should already know the answer."
Edmund's lips pressed into a thin line, though he seemed used to Matthew's open defiance. "Since you're married now, why did you come back alone? Where is your wife?"
Matthew handed his suit jacket to a nearby servant. "She's at the new house you arranged for us."
"The one in Ravine Estates?" Edmund was quick to catch on. It took him only a second to understand Matthew's intentions, and his aged face darkened. "Get out!"
Matthew looked slightly confused, his brows knitting together. "I already married her like you wanted. What else are you expecting from me?"
Edmund shot back sharply, "I want a great-grandchild!"
"Not happening," Matthew replied without hesitation.
Marrying a complete stranger was already pushing his limits. Having a child with her was something he wouldn't even consider.
Edmund slammed the tip of his cane against the floor, the sharp sound echoing as his commanding voice filled the room. "You're moving into Ravine Estates right now. And find an appropriate time to bring her back, so she can be properly introduced to our family. After that, arrange a wedding ceremony. She's had a hard life since she was young. You should treat her well from now on."
Matthew's tone dropped, cold and restrained. "Don't push me too far."
Edmund didn't flinch. Instead, he played his strongest card. "Listen—if you refuse, you'll spend the rest of your life without ever learning the truth about what happened back then."
A sharp chill flickered through Matthew's eyes, though his face stayed composed.
Edmund could tell that he had struck a nerve. Clearing his throat, he eased his tone. "Just yesterday, an old friend of mine called to brag about his great-grandson. I'm not getting any younger; I've got one foot in the grave already. Is it really too much to hope I can see my own great-grandchild before I go? Besides, she doesn't seem bothered by the age gap. You should consider yourself lucky."
For a moment, Matthew had no response.
He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before finally speaking through clenched teeth. "This is the last time."
Edmund ignored the warning entirely. In families like theirs, marrying first and developing feelings later was nothing unusual. He had already looked into Cathleen; she was straightforward, kind, and gentle, a perfect balance for someone like Matthew, who was quiet, guarded, and emotionally distant.
Seeing Matthew finally relent, Edmund acted quickly, worried he might change his mind. He immediately said to a nearby servant, "Pack Matthew's belongings and send everything over to Ravine Estates."
Matthew didn't bother arguing further. He slipped the jacket he had just removed back on and walked out, his expression dark.
Standing nearby, the butler, Laurence Brooks, watched him leave with concern. "Sir, do you really think he'll cooperate this time?"
Edmund let out a dismissive snort. "I've got him cornered. He wouldn't dare go against me."
Laurence had served the Spencer family for more than thirty years, attending to Edmund personally all that time.
He poured a cup of coffee and handed it over. "Do you truly have that much faith in Cathleen? She grew up in the mountains, and from what I've heard, the Stewart couple never cared much for her. They treat Ashley like she's priceless, while Cathleen was neglected. She was raised in a poor, remote area, likely uneducated and lacking refinement. Is she really suitable for Matthew?"
Edmund accepted the cup and scoffed lightly. "Of course she is. The Stewarts simply don't recognize value when they see it."
Laurence said nothing more.
As if something had just come to mind, Edmund added, "Bring me my phone. I'm going to call Cathy."
It was the first time Laurence had ever seen Edmund show such personal concern for someone, which made it clear that the young woman must have something special about her.
Cathleen had just finished freshening up and was now sitting cross-legged on her bed, meditating, when she felt a faint vibration against her finger.
It was a habit she had maintained since childhood.
Her communication device was something she had designed herself, cleverly disguised as a ring on her index finger.
Beyond basic communication, it could also be taken apart and reassembled into a compact, high-performance computer when needed.
The subtle vibration made her finger tingle slightly. She frowned at first, but the moment she saw the caller ID, her expression softened. "Hello, Mr. Spencer."
"Oh, hi, Cathy!" Edmund said in a bright, cheerful tone. "Matthew just headed over to Ravine Estates. After all, tonight is your wedding night."
Cathleen waited quietly until he finished speaking before replying, "I'm not there."
Edmund paused, caught off guard. "You're not? Where are you then?"
"I'm at home with my family," Cathleen answered.
"Oh dear, that's on me," Edmund said apologetically. "My memory isn't what it used to be. I'm getting forgetful. It's your first day back home; of course you'd be having a proper meal with your family."
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9.3
Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him.
She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort.
But Benton didn't take the charity.
Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him.
When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face.
Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician.
Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below.
Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her.
She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man.
But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion.
How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power?
"You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you."
Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.
9.7
Eliana Rivera is the firstborn daughter of business tycoon Cassian Rivera. When her father's company falls into debt, he marries her off to the arrogant and ruthless billionaire, Alexander Grayson, as part of a business contract and under the threat of blackmail.
Alexander, the billionaire CEO, never planned to marry, but the pressure of blackmail forces him into a union with a woman he barely knows. Although Eliana doesn't see Alexander as her ideal partner, she agrees to the marriage out of a sense of duty.
Once engaged, however, he barely acknowledges her presence and harbours disdain for her because of her father's actions and their relationship. But as they navigate their newfound relationship, the unexpected desire for each other's touch ignites-a twist neither of them planned, leading them toward an unforeseen love.
8.7
Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him.
9.1
For three years, June played the perfect, submissive wife to billionaire Augustus Pruitt, hoping a child would finally warm his cold heart and secure their marriage.
But when she cautiously suggested they have a baby, he looked at her with pure, unfiltered disgust.
"A woman who schemes her way into a marriage doesn't get to carry my blood."
He sneered, leaving immediately to lavish his mistress with diamonds. The nightmare only escalated from there. Augustus bought the one painting June desperately wanted—a piece she had secretly created herself—just to gift it to his mistress. He publicly outbid June at the gallery, mocking her lack of wealth, and left her to collapse in the freezing rain. When the storm gave her a severe 104-degree fever and she nearly died on their staircase, he didn't even stay by her hospital bed. Instead, he sent an assistant with a box of jewelry to buy her silence, then forced her to attend a family dinner where his mother and sister viciously mocked her barren womb and background.
Looking at Augustus, who sat there casually cutting his steak while his family tore her apart, the last flicker of hope in June's chest sputtered and died.
She finally understood that her three years of bleeding devotion were nothing but a pathetic joke to them.
She dropped her silverware, the sharp clatter silencing the entire room. She wasn't going to be their punching bag anymore. It was time to finalize the divorce papers, reclaim her hidden identity as the world-renowned artist 'mr.sun', and make them all regret it.
8.8
On the eve of my glamorous Waldorf Astoria wedding, I went to the penthouse to surprise my fiancé, Hugh, wearing my late mother's heirloom pearls.
Instead, I heard my stepsister's familiar laugh and caught them tangled together on the sofa.
Through the cracked door, I heard Hugh slur that he was only marrying me for my family's financial backing.
"As soon as I secure my inheritance, she's the first thing I'm getting rid of," he promised her.
Floy giggled and asked for my mother's pearl necklace, my only legacy. Hugh agreed without hesitation, mocking my dead mother's naivety and my desperate dreams of building a family.
Every sweet word he had ever said was a lie, a knife he had been patiently sliding between my ribs for years. They planned to strip me of everything the moment I signed the prenup.
I didn't cry or scream. The crushing weight of their betrayal hollowed me out, leaving behind a terrifying, absolute calm.
Why should I be the one to lose everything while they stole my future and insulted my mother's memory?
I calmly walked down the hall, set the prenuptial agreement on fire, and vanished into the rainy night.
If Hugh wanted to play dirty for the Maxwell empire, I would play for keeps.
Using a forgotten, century-old family covenant, I was going to marry Hugh's uncle-the comatose, paralyzed war hero, Fleet Maxwell.
I would return not as a naive bride, but as their worst nightmare: his aunt, and the new lady of the house.
8.2
My ex-boyfriend of three years, Axel, married a perfect wealthy heiress.
I attended his wedding, not to mourn our relationship, but because he had spent the last three years bleeding me dry.
He left me with absolutely nothing but a final notice from the hospital for my dying brother's life support.
Instead of feeling guilty, Axel cornered me in the church hallway, crushing my wrist.
"I'll set you up with an apartment. You won't have to work another day in your life."
He thought he could buy my silence with spare change, while leaving my seventeen-year-old brother, Julian, to die when his treatments were cut off the very next day.
When I refused to be his dirty little secret, Axel used his power to utterly destroy my acting career.
He had my talent agency terminate my contract under a fake morals clause, publicly humiliated me on set, and blacklisted me across the entire industry.
I was shoved out into the freezing rain, left with a torn dress and absolutely no way to pay the five hundred thousand dollar medical bill.
He actually believed he could step on my brother's dying body to build his own fake empire.
He thought I was just a weak, pathetic victim who would eventually crawl back to him on my knees.
But he forgot about the one monster he was absolutely terrified of: his legitimate, ruthless billionaire half-brother, Jace Bauer.
Looking at the three positive pregnancy tests hidden in my drawer, I stepped right in front of Jace's armored Maybach.
"Marry me, and I'll give you the heir you need to secure your empire."