The True Heiress Returns: His Bitter Regret
Ariel woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by five titans of Wall Street. She instantly realized she had transmigrated into the corporate warfare novel she read last night.
She was the real daughter of the ruthless Washington family, a family destined to be completely destroyed. And the one who would cause their bankruptcy, imprisonment, and deaths was the crying, hypocritical adopted sister holding her hand—Cherilyn.
Knowing the plot, Ariel was terrified. She watched Cherilyn hand her a glass of organic juice and internally screamed about how it was laced with neurotoxins. She expected the cold, calculating family to side with the fake daughter and throw Ariel into the Hudson River. To survive, Ariel planned to play dumb, steal a Picasso painting, and run away to Hawaii before the feds raided their estate.
But things got weird. Instead of bullying her, her terrifying father ordered the poisoned juice destroyed. Her ruthless brothers started buying out Michelin-star restaurants for her lunch, dropping off diamond-encrusted pens in military helicopters, and mercilessly crushing anyone who dared to cross her.
"Why are these doomed villains suddenly acting like invincible strategic geniuses?" Ariel thought, utterly baffled.
She had no idea that her entire family could hear her inner thoughts. And the Wall Street wolves were using her mental spoilers to rewrite their tragic fate.
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Chapter 2
The dining room of the Washington Long Island estate felt like a mausoleum.
Ariel sat at the end of the massive mahogany table. She stared at the French omelet on her Versace plate.
This house is freezing, Ariel thought. It feels like a graveyard.
At the head of the table, Conrad held the Wall Street Journal. The corner of his mouth twitched. He gripped the paper tighter to stop his hands from shaking.
Cherilyn walked into the dining room. She wore a pristine silk robe. She carried a crystal glass filled with a thick, green liquid.
She set the glass down right in front of Ariel.
"I had this organic cold-pressed juice flown in from Brooklyn," Cherilyn said. Her voice dripped with honey. "It's exactly what your body needs to recover."
Ariel looked up. She forced a shy smile. "Thank you, sister."
Organic juice my ass, Ariel thought. It's laced with Adderall extract. It's going to fry my nervous system.
Eleanor was lifting a porcelain cup of black coffee to her lips.
The words Adderall extract hit her brain. Her hand jerked. Hot coffee splashed over the rim, staining her silk Hermes scarf.
Conrad lowered his newspaper. His eyes locked onto the green liquid. A cold, murderous intent flashed in his pupils.
Cherilyn didn't notice. She smiled down at Ariel.
"Drink it quickly," Cherilyn urged. "The antioxidants fade if it sits too long."
Antioxidants? Ariel rolled her eyes in her mind. You mean the drug will evaporate. You are a complete psychopath. All this just to steal my trust fund.
Conrad's grip on his newspaper tightened for a fraction of a second, a sharp, authoritative signal Eleanor had understood for forty years. His eyes darted to her, cold and expectant.
Ariel sighed. She reached out her hand. She planned to take a sip and spit it into her napkin.
Her fingertips brushed the cold crystal glass.
Eleanor stood up abruptly.
Her ankle twisted. She threw her entire body weight forward. Her arm swept across the mahogany wood.
Her wrist slammed into the crystal glass.
The glass launched into the air. The green liquid spun in the morning light. It splashed directly onto Cherilyn's pristine silk robe.
The glass hit the hardwood floor and shattered.
Cherilyn shrieked. She looked down at the dark green stains ruining her clothes. Her face turned purple with rage.
Eleanor clutched her chest. She gasped for air.
"Oh my goodness!" Eleanor cried out. "I am so sorry, Cherilyn. I stood up too fast. I felt so dizzy."
Ariel pulled her hand back. Her heart raced.
This woman never trips, Ariel thought. She walks like she's floating. Does she have early-onset cerebellar atrophy?
Eleanor's face froze. She swallowed hard and looked away.
"Get the butler," Eleanor told the maid. "Clean this up immediately."
Cherilyn forced her hands to uncurl. She squeezed a tear out of her eye.
"It's okay, Mother," Cherilyn whimpered. "I'm just sad Ariel didn't get to drink it."
"Go change," Conrad said. His voice was like cracked ice. "Do not stand in my dining room looking like that."
Cherilyn flinched. The coldness in his voice felt like a physical blow. She turned and practically ran out of the room.
Ariel watched her leave.
Keep crying, you snake, Ariel thought. If they sent that juice to a lab, you'd be sitting in a federal prison by tonight.
Conrad's eyes darted to the butler. He gave a sharp, almost invisible nod.
The butler knelt on the floor. He swept up the glass. With a swift motion, he pressed a sterile cotton cloth into the wet rug. He slipped the soaked cloth into a plastic ziplock bag in his pocket.
Wow, rich people's maids are so extra, Ariel thought. He's cleaning the floor like it's a crime scene.
Eleanor sat back down. She smoothed her stained scarf.
"Bring Ariel a glass of warm milk," Eleanor instructed the maid. Her voice trembled slightly.
Ariel stared at the empty spot on the table. Her stomach tied into knots.
The poison juice failed, Ariel thought. Now they are switching to milk? This family is trying so hard to murder me.
Conrad and Eleanor looked at each other. They couldn't breathe. The weight of the misunderstanding crushed their chests.
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8.9
Betrayed by the people she trusted most, Ava Lin's perfect life shatters overnight. From losing her mother under mysterious circumstances to being tormented by her stepmother and stepsister, Ava learns early that love in her world comes at a price. But nothing prepares her for the ultimate betrayal,catching her fiancé in bed with her own sister just weeks before their wedding.
Humiliated and heartbroken, Ava makes a reckless decision that changes everything: a contract marriage to a stranger. What she doesn't know is that her new husband is Elias Ward,a powerful, cold-hearted billionaire with secrets of his own.
Thrown into a world of wealth, power, and hidden enemies, Ava finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of revenge, lies, and unexpected passion. As she rises from the ashes of betrayal, those who once destroyed her will stop at nothing to bring her down even if it means exposing deadly secrets buried in her past.
But when love begins to bloom in the most unexpected place, Ava must decide,will she continue fighting for revenge, or risk everything for a second chance at love?
In a story filled with scandal, heartbreak, and justice, one woman's pain becomes her greatest strength... and her ultimate weapon.
8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.
9.7
I was a top cardiac surgeon, trapped in a dead marriage with a ruthless billionaire.
One afternoon, he brought his mistress to my hospital, ordering me to perform her high-risk heart surgery.
When I refused and handed him our divorce papers, he violently tore them up and threatened to erase my name from the medical community.
Worse, I discovered they had a five-year-old surrogate son—bought and born the exact same year I bled out on an operating table, losing our baby.
The mistress mocked my trauma, calling me a barren piece of trash who couldn't give him an heir.
I slapped her across the face.
The next morning, the NYPD publicly handcuffed me in my own hospital.
She had framed me for attempted murder, claiming I injected her IV with a lethal dose of potassium.
My husband cornered me in the interrogation room.
"Just confess to me. I will throw enough money at the DA to make this entirely disappear."
I looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but raw, unfiltered suspicion.
He actually believed I was a jealous murderer.
I swore I would rather rot in a concrete cell for the rest of my life than bow down to them.
Just as my childhood savior miraculously appeared to bail me out, my phone rang.
The mistress had gone into full cardiac arrest.
Only I had the surgical skill to save her.
I turned around, deciding whether to let the woman who ruined my life die, or pick up my scalpel.
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."
8.1
Chantal Lewis's family legacy was twenty-four hours away from a fifty-million-dollar foreclosure.
Desperate to save her parents, she sold her soul, offering herself as a paper wife to Dell Valdez, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire needing a quick PR fix.
But Dell didn't just buy her; he trapped her in a living nightmare.
He forced her into a brutal three-year repayment plan she could never afford, treated her like a disposable prop, and deliberately leaked a scandalous paparazzi photo to destroy her hard-earned professional credibility.
Worst of all, the first time his calloused hand touched hers, a violent, terrifying flashback assaulted her brain.
The scorching heat of his palms and the distinct, dark scent of his cedarwood cologne perfectly matched the repressed memory of a pitch-black room where she was pinned to a mattress against her will.
Chantal didn't understand why her cold-blooded fake husband felt exactly like the monster from her unspoken trauma.
She understood even less why, after months of ignoring her, he was suddenly acting violently jealous and possessive when she merely smiled at another man!
Why did his scent match her attacker, and what was he truly planning?
Furious, she called him to threaten a divorce, only for his voice to drop into a lethal whisper.
"Try it. See what happens."
Before she could process his deadly threat, her office phone rang.
"Ms. Lewis," her receptionist trembled. "Your brother is in the lobby. He owes money to some very bad people, and they are coming here right now."
8.6
To save my father's failing workshop from ruthless loan sharks, I sold one year of my life.
I signed a fake marriage contract with Cameron Fox, an icy billionaire who needed a wife to pacify his sick grandmother. The rules were strict: it was purely a commercial transaction, with absolutely no physical contact and no emotional attachments.
Soon after, that cold hearted man seemed different to me. Wait, is he pursuing me?