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Return of the Real Heiress Vengeance Served Cold Novel Cover

Return of the Real Heiress Vengeance Served Cold

After four years of academic success abroad, a young woman returns home to claim her graduation gift: a hundred-million-dollar luxury villa. Instead of a peaceful homecoming, she is locked out and assaulted by an aggressive stranger. This intruder claims the estate as her own, boasts of her impending marriage to the protagonist's childhood friend, Dominic Kensington, and asserts her status as the Chapman Group heiress. Realizing her family has secretly adopted a deceptive replacement, the rightful heiress prepares to reclaim what is hers.
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Chapter 3

"You look decent enough from the way you're dressed, but you've got zero sense of boundaries!"

"Can't blame Ms. Butler for being so on guard, though. Mr. Kensington has too many women throwing themselves at him. They'll try anything."

"And now one of them shows up pretending to be Mrs. Chapman's daughter. Disgusting."

The staff tossed me outside like garbage.

Maplewood Estate was the largest private villa community in the area, surrounded by nothing but empty roads and silence. The night wind cut straight to the bone.

I lay on the ground, letting the tears run freely down my face.

I couldn't understand it. All I'd done was come home, follow my mother's instructions to stay at the new house. How had that earned me this kind of humiliation?

If my mother knew that the daughter she loved most, the daughter she was proudest of, had been thrown out like trash, it would destroy her.

My wrist throbbed with a pain so sharp it felt like it was drilling into the bone. I forced myself to stand, planning to go straight back to the old house and get answers from my mother.

Before I could move, the shriek of brakes split the air behind me.

Someone was back.

I whipped around. Under the dim glow of the driveway lights, a tall figure stepped out.

Something about him felt vaguely familiar, but mostly, he was a stranger.

Dominic Kensington stopped in front of me, looking down with a flicker of confusion, as if he couldn't place who I was.

I latched onto him like a lifeline, staring up at his face, certain he would recognize me.

"Dominic, it's me. It's Astrid. You don't remember?"

At the name Astrid, Dominic frowned. Then he let out a cold, thin laugh.

"Even if you are Astrid Chapman, so what? She means nothing to me. My fiancée tells me you came here tonight looking for trouble."

The light in my eyes died. I almost wanted to laugh.

When we were ten, I'd watched him trail after me in tears, terrified his family would go bankrupt and he'd end up a homeless orphan.

I couldn't stand to see it. I spent three full days clinging to my mother, begging and pleading, until she agreed to a round of financing that put the Kensington family back on the market.

It was a childhood bond, sure. But a debt that enormous wasn't something you just forgot. And now he stood there pretending he didn't even know my face.

All that sincerity, wasted on someone who didn't deserve a drop of it.

I finally saw Dominic Kensington for what he really was, and the hatred burned so hot my teeth ached.

Before I could say another word, Lydia's voice rang out from behind us, giddy and breathless, as she latched onto Dominic's arm.

"I was just venting! I didn't think you'd actually come."

"This little tramp barged into the house, caused a scene, and had the nerve to pretend she's my mother's daughter. I'm so mad I could scream!"

Dominic smiled and gave her nose a playful pinch, his voice soft.

"It's ten o'clock. Shouldn't you say goodnight to Mrs. Chapman?"

The moment I heard that, my eyes snapped back to Lydia. If she dared make that call, my mother would recognize my voice in a heartbeat.

Lydia did exactly what I expected. She dialed right in front of me, putting it on speaker like a taunt. A voice came through.

"Hello, sweetie. What is it?"

My mother's voice.

Every ounce of hurt and injustice surged up at once. I lunged for the phone, desperate to grab it, desperate to demand answers.

Dominic seized my injured wrist and held me in place. The two of them worked in perfect tandem, taunting me to my face.

Lydia purred into the phone.

"Mom, I forgot to say goodnight! Get some rest, okay?"

There was a pause on the other end, maybe two seconds, then a quiet, resigned sigh.

"Don't call me that... You get some rest too."

Lydia cooed one last saccharine goodbye, hung up, and turned to me with a smile that could freeze blood.

"See? My mom has one daughter, and it's me. You? You're nothing."

"I was going to give you a chance earlier. You're the one who refused to leave. So fine. Let's play a game."

The word game set off every alarm in my body. I turned to run.

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