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The Heiress Game;Rebirth and Ruin Novel Cover

The Heiress Game;Rebirth and Ruin

Adeline Royce seemed to have it all—wealth, status, and a dazzling groom. But Conrad Basquire, the charming conman she married, drained her fortune and left her for dead on their wedding night. Miraculously revived, Adeline awakens with a burning need for vengeance. Her unlikely ally is Mikhail Leonidovich, her godfather and a divorced Russian surgeon harboring secrets. When Conrad resurfaces, Adeline's fight for justice spirals into a perilous game of dark twists, forbidden alliances, and dangerous revelations.
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Chapter 1

ADELINE'S POV

"He looks at you like he simply wants to eat you up." Bella playfully covered her lips with her gloves and cackled like a witch.

I pursed my lips together, tightening my arm around Conrad. Emphasizing my mark.

"The next step is kids? Right?"

I clicked my wine glass against hers.

"Yeah. Conrad and I... We've decided that we will try for kids."

He took my hand, kissing my cheek lightly.

I struggled to hide the way it made me feel.

"Yes, maybe... who knows, we could be lucky on the next… swimmer release."

The idea warmed me as he said so.

This was the life, standing in this extravagant hall full of people who actually recognized and loved the things our foundation did for the world.

And with the man that I loved, holding my arm and sheepishly talking about the thought of growing our family.

Within minutes, more people had gathered around us. We were celebrating the foundation's official opening. The test run had been good but this...

even better.

"It's amazing, really. What your husband does for those people."

I smiled, squeezing his hand as he waved to his PA, Davon.

"Babe..." He leaned into my ear. "Attend to the guests, I'll be right back."

I nodded, taking his forehead kiss like the princess he had made me.

"Aww, you both are so sweet it hurts."

"Shh, Daila. You'll find yours when the time is right."

"I'm heading on thirty and it isn't yet?"

I refilled her glass.

"Baby steps Daila. Baby steps."

Before the drink tipped into her cup, a toddler in blue ran past us in a blur.

"Fara," I handed the bottle and glass to Dalia, and then chased after the caramel-skinned ball of energy.

She was looking for her favourite uncle. Of course, Conrad had promised her a bag of Skittles earlier and the girl was eagerly looking forward to the promise being maintained.

"Uncle!" She ran all the way to the terrace.

Due to the speed at which I was trotting like a horse, my heel snapped and I hissed. I leaned against the wall, away from the crowd's sight and took off the shoe.

Tch.

It had cost a fortune.

"Uncle Conrad."

I heard Fara say.

I giggled at her enthusiasm and decided to 'cutely eavesdrop.'

Normally I expected Conrad to magically, resourcefully pull out a mini packet of Skittles from his pocket or something, and then hand it over to her.

But something was off.

Conrad's expression was tight. He was obviously frustrated about something. And so was Devon.

He swatted Fara aside.

She almost fell down if not for Devon who steadied her by the arm and tucked a lollipop into her hand to contain her pout.

I gasped.

I had never seen Conrad act like that.

Even at his angriest. Something was definitely up.

Fara went to the far corner and sat on the ground, licking at her lollipop with a sad expression on her face. I wanted to step out of my crouching point and ask what the matter was. But I decided to stay and listen instead.

"So what do we do?" Devon murmured, running his hands tiredly through his hair.

"What we've always done. Put on a show, hire people. Show the cops that all they are sniffing at is grass."

"Mr Morelli then? What do we tell him? Do we return his investments? Try to talk things out?"

Mr Morelli.

One of Conrad's top investors. He donated heavy charity lumps into the foundation. Return his investments? What were they talking about?

"No. We won't do that." Conrad pressed the bridge of his nose. "If we do that, then we will definitely seem guilty. All we have to do is get that little fag, Isaac, to spin him..." He looked around and I crouched lower. "A different narrative."

Fag? Who was he referring to?

Conrad never used offensive slurs on anyone.

"What narrative should I spin?" Devon whispered harshly. "I'm your assistant, not a magician. Do you think Mr Morelli is stupid? If we don't give him something airtight, he'll definitely smell a rat."

"Then disinfect the rat goddamnit! I can't be doing all the thinking here."

Conrad never cursed.

What was happening today?

"Fine. Let's... um, I'll tell him that the boy was in love with you and tried to harass you or something, and when you didn't reciprocate. He acted out."

Conrad snapped his fingers in the air.

"Perfect." He reached for Devon's hair. "See? I don't pay you thousands of bucks for nothing."

I wanted to move. To let them know that I had been listening, but Devon's next sentence halted me.

"I'm afraid of anyone finding out that we run a fake foundation."

My blood ran cold and my brain tweaked off for a second.

Was it hearing failure? Or... or had I just heard what I thought I heard?

"Yeah." Conrad chuckled. "Mal would nag me if anyone found out. She already thinks parading our daughter around as my niece is reckless enough."

Wait.

Did he just say... 'our' daughter? As in he and whoever the hell Mal was.

"Yeah. Your wife is one... intense female."

Conrad laughed heartily.

"She is. A pity Fara doesn't take after her."

"I think Fara is just—"

"Your wife?."

I hadn't even realized when I had stepped out from behind the wall.

Conrad and Devon froze, their faces going instantly pale.

"A-Adeline..."

"Fara is your daughter? You're married, Conrad? Mal? Who is Mal?"

Conrad blinked, his lips parting like he was searching for the right lie, the right tone, the right excuse that would make it all dissolve into thin air.

"Adeline, listen—"

"No. You listen!" My voice echoed off the marble, and Fara startled from her corner, her lollipop clattering to the floor. "You—" I pointed at him. "You are running a fake foundation?!"

"Adeline, please," Devon tried to interject, but my glare halted him.

"Don't you dare," I snapped. "Not a single word from you."

Conrad reached out.

"It isn’t what you think."

"It never is, is it?" I stepped back, pressing my palm to my stomach because I could feel it twisting and tightening like a knot. "Go ahead, Conrad. Tell me how exactly this isn’t what it looks like."

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Adeline. Keep your voice down. We are not doing this here."

"Here?" I gestured around wildly. "At your grand event for your fake foundation? Oh no, Conrad, I think here is exactly where we should do this."

Devon shot him a nervous glance, whispering, "Sir, the guests are starting to look this way"

"Let them look”

Before I could complete my sentence, Conrad shoved at my chest and sent me tumbling over the terrace.

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