Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress Novel Cover

Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress

8.6 / 10.0
Betrayed after eight years of devotion, the hidden heiress in Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress is discarded for a fraud. This billionaire romance novel follows her rise as she unfreezes her black card to reclaim her power. Read books online free to see her ultimate revenge.
Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress Summary
For eight years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress to the Stafford family fortune, playing the role of a meek, dependent girlfriend just to see if Evan could love me for who I truly was. But today, he slid a severance check across the table and told me to pack my things. He said his company was going bankrupt and he had no choice but to marry Piper Finch, a woman claiming to have Stafford family backing, to save his business. "You will not survive a week out there! You cannot even afford subway fare without me!" The next day, he paraded Piper around the office, letting her mock me before publicly firing me. His mother even threw a five million dollar check in my face, demanding I disappear so I would not ruin his marriage to the wealthy elite. I looked at the fake heiress wearing a cheap, lab-grown diamond and felt a bitter laugh lodge in my throat. After eight years of my devotion, he was throwing away the real Stafford princess for a pathetic fraud, utterly convinced I was just a worthless, broke burden. Instead of begging, I ripped his check in half and walked out. I pulled out my encrypted satellite phone and told my family to unfreeze my limitless black card. I was done playing the helpless girlfriend. It was time to show him what real power looks like.
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Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress Chapter 1

The crisp, heavy parchment of the severance agreement scraped against the Italian marble coffee table.

Evan pushed the document forward, his manicured index finger tapping the surface. A cashier's check for five hundred thousand dollars rested on top. The sound of the paper sliding stopped Adeline's hand mid-air. She held a porcelain coffee cup, the dark liquid inside perfectly still.

Adeline lowered her gaze to the six figures printed on the check. Her thumb pressed hard against her index finger, the nail digging into the skin until it turned white. The sheer absurdity of the moment lodged in her throat like a dry pill.

Evan adjusted the platinum cufflink on his left wrist. He leaned back in the custom leather sofa, his posture radiating the exhausted patience of a man dealing with a slow child.

"Strong Group is filing for bankruptcy by the end of the quarter if we do not secure the supply chain injection," Evan said. His voice was flat, practiced. "I have to marry Piper. The Stafford family backing is the only thing that will save the board."

Adeline set the coffee cup down. The ceramic clinked sharply against the saucer. She lowered her eyelashes, forcing her breathing to shallow out. She let her shoulders droop, playing into the exact image of the helpless, dependent woman Evan had spent eight years molding her to be.

Evan let out a heavy breath. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He raised his hand and rested his palm on the top of her head.

Adeline's stomach churned. The bile rose in the back of her throat, but she kept her feet planted. She let her forehead rest against the lapel of his tailored suit.

"Just pack your things and move out quietly," Evan murmured, his chest vibrating against her face. "I will still take care of you. I can set you up in a nice place in Queens. You will never have to worry about rent."

Adeline raised her hands. Her fingers brushed against the knot of his silk tie. She traced the smooth fabric, her hands trembling just enough to sell the performance.

"Do you really have to marry her?" Adeline whispered, keeping her voice tight and fragile.

Evan closed his eyes. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips as he absorbed her submission.

"It is for the future of the company, Adeline. I have no other choice."

Adeline's fingers tightened around the silk. With a sudden, violent jerk, she yanked the unknotted tie downward and looped it around the back of Evan's neck.

The massive force pulled Evan off balance. He stumbled backward, his knees hitting the edge of the heavy oak-framed armchair. He crashed down into the deep cushions.

Evan's eyes snapped open in shock. He planted his hands on the armrests to push himself up.

Adeline lunged. She drove her knee hard into his thigh, pinning him to the seat. Her hands moved with terrifying speed. She whipped the ends of the silk tie around the carved wooden armrest and pulled. The fabric dug into the wood. She tied a double knot, pulling it so tight the silk groaned.

Evan thrashed against the chair. The friction of the silk burned against his neck as it tightened with his movements.

"What the hell are you doing?" Evan barked, his face flushing red.

Adeline stepped back. She pulled a tissue from the brass box on the table and wiped her palms. She balled the tissue up and threw it directly at his face. It bounced off his nose.

She picked up the five hundred thousand dollar check. She held it up so the overhead lights caught the watermark. Then, she ripped it straight down the middle. She tore the halves again, letting the pieces flutter down onto Evan's polished leather shoes.

Evan stared at the torn paper, the veins in his neck bulging against the tight silk.

"You stupid bitch!" Evan roared, struggling against the armrest. "You will not survive a week out there! You cannot even afford subway fare without me!"

Adeline turned her back to him. She walked toward the entryway. The digital keypad of the wall safe glowed blue. She punched in the six-digit code without hesitating. The heavy steel door clicked and swung open.

She ignored the velvet boxes of jewelry. She reached into the back and pulled out four thick stacks of unmarked hundred-dollar bills. Two hundred thousand dollars in illegal cash, prepared for a gray-market vendor. She shoved the bricks of money into her leather tote bag.

Evan twisted in the chair, his breathing turning ragged.

"I will call the police! That is robbery!"

Adeline walked back to the sofa. She looked down at him, her face completely blank. She raised her hand and patted his cheek, her cold fingers slapping lightly against his hot skin.

"Call them," Adeline said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Explain to the IRS why you have two hundred thousand in untraceable cash sitting next to your cooked ledgers."

Evan's jaw snapped shut. The color drained from his face, leaving him a sickly gray. He stared at her, his pupils dilating as the realization hit him.

Adeline reached down and grabbed his left wrist. She unclasped the Patek Philippe watch. It slid off his skin.

Evan lunged forward, snapping his teeth toward her wrist.

Adeline swung her arm back and slapped him across the face. The crack echoed off the high ceilings.

Evan's head whipped to the side. A drop of blood welled at the corner of his mouth. He blinked, completely stunned, the fight knocked out of him.

Adeline dropped the hundred-thousand-dollar watch into her bag and zipped it shut.

"Consider this the invoice for eight years of my time."

She walked into the walk-in closet. She bypassed the rows of designer dresses Evan had bought her. She pulled a worn, beige trench coat off a hanger and slipped it over her shoulders.

"Put the money down, Adeline!" Evan yelled, desperation cracking his voice. "I will sign the deed to the Brooklyn apartment over to you! Just leave the cash!"

Adeline walked to the front door. She flipped the cover off the smart lock panel. She pressed and held the reset button. The system beeped, deleting her biometric data.

A long, high-pitched tone signaled the erasure.

She grabbed the heavy brass handle and pulled the oak door open. The chilled, conditioned air of the hallway rushed in, blowing her hair back. It stripped the scent of Evan's expensive cologne from her clothes.

Adeline stepped out and slammed the door shut, cutting off Evan's screaming. She walked down the long, carpeted hallway toward the elevator, her heels sinking into the plush floor.

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Too Late, I Am The Real Heiress of Contents

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