Prison Made Her A Loser? The Real Heiress Is The Power Queen!

"Alexia, your sentence is done. You're free to go now. Try to live properly this time," said the guard.

Alexia White continued packing her things as if she had not heard him at all.

Irritation showed on the guard's face. "Alexia, I'm talking to you. Did you hear what I said?"

Alexia paused, then turned her head slightly. "I heard you."

The way she looked at him made the guard uneasy, and he took a step back without thinking.

Even after five years, he still could not get used to the terrifying presence she carried.

The memory of her first day inside came back to him. Back then, she had gotten into a fight with another inmate.

They had never met, yet Alexia held nothing back. Every strike left marks, and blood soon followed.

It took several guards to pull them apart before it got worse. Since that day, both inmates and guards kept their distance from her.

Now that her time was up, they could finally send her away.

Alexia walked forward without hesitation and passed through the heavy iron gate.

Live properly?

The thought crossed her mind, and she let out a silent scoff.

She had never been the one who needed to change.

In her last life, the James family suddenly found her and claimed she was their missing heiress.

For a moment, Alexia believed she had finally found a place where she belonged. That hope did not last. Not long after, her biological parents pushed her into prison to take the blame for Rachael James, the woman who had taken her place in the family.

For five years, the James family never checked on her. She was left to survive alone inside those walls.

The day before her release, Rachael made her move. She paid off the one person Alexia trusted most inside and had her food tampered with, leaving her to die alone in a cold, damp corner.

As her death approached, voices drifted into her ears. "Today's a big day for the James couple. They invited a lot of guests for their only daughter Rachael's birthday."

The words echoed in her mind.

Only daughter?

Then what had she been to them?

That thought stayed with her until everything went dark.

When her eyes opened again, the scene had changed. She stood back at the beginning, on the first day she was sent into prison.

The same person who betrayed her stepped forward with a smile and reached out. "Let's get along from now on."

Alexia threw a punch without holding back.

This time, she planned to make those who had hurt her pay for everything.

"Miss White, congratulations on your release," said a man, pulling Alexia back to the present.

A black Mercedes stood parked by the road. Next to it was a man in his fifties dressed in a black suit. He was Eric Foster, the butler of the James family.

Eric gave a slight bow. His posture was respectful, but his eyes carried clear disdain.

"Your sister had her birthday yesterday. Mr. and Mrs. James are tired, so Mrs. James sent me to pick you up," Eric said as he opened the car door. "Moorland Villa has been prepared for you. It's quiet and suitable for you to recover."

Moorland Villa was far from the city. Transportation there was inconvenient.

It wasn't a place for recovery. It was a place meant to keep someone away.

Alexia's face stayed cold, showing no reaction. "No need."

Eric frowned. "This was arranged by Mrs. James. Is there something you're unhappy with?"

A sneer appeared on Alexia's face. "Tell Mrs. James this. She gave birth to me, and I served her daughter's sentence. From today on, I have nothing to do with the James family. Rachael is their only daughter."

Eric's expression changed. "What..."

Alexia cut him off. "And tell Rachael this."

She paused, then spoke each word clearly. "What she owes me, I'll collect it from her, one by one."

She didn't look at Eric again. His shocked expression didn't matter to her. She lifted her worn backpack onto her shoulder and walked toward another car parked nearby.

It was a black Rolls-Royce.

Under the dark sky, the car gave off a cold shine that made it stand out.

The driver's door opened, and a chauffeur stepped out. He wore a fitted suit and white gloves. He bowed to Alexia.

"Miss White," he said as he opened the door. "Please."

Alexia stepped into the car and took her seat.

She wore nothing more than a plain T-shirt and jeans, yet the way she carried herself made her stand out with quiet elegance.

Eric stood frozen in place, unable to process what he had just seen.

Wasn't Alexia supposed to be some poor young woman from the slums?

Then how did someone like her end up getting into a Rolls-Royce after five years in prison?

Even Rachael, who had been raised by the James family for over twenty years, didn't carry herself with this kind of presence.

The Rolls-Royce moved forward without a sound and soon left the prison behind.

Inside, everything felt calm. The leather seats gave off a faint, clean scent.

Leaning back, Alexia finally allowed herself to relax.

For the past five years since her rebirth, she had stayed on edge the entire time while slowly building her foundation.

Although the details had blurred, she still remembered the major shifts in the financial market from her previous life.

Using those memories, she built connections and handled short-term trades through a proxy system. Starting with very little, she managed to earn fifty million in net profit over five years.

This was merely the first step in her path to vengeance.