The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Return To Power

Dakota walked back to the spot where the Ford had died. She dropped her backpack onto the thick roots of the oak tree and sat down.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the heavy diamond necklace. The stones caught the afternoon sun, throwing sharp rainbows across the dirt. She let the necklace dangle from her fingers, entirely unimpressed by the fortune she held.

A deep, rhythmic vibration hummed through the soles of her boots.

Dakota looked up. Down the long stretch of highway, a massive vehicle approached. It didn’t bounce or rattle. It moved down the road, smooth and silent.

A brand-new Rolls-Royce Cullinan pulled to a stop right in front of her. The paint was a flawless obsidian black. The chrome grill gleamed aggressively. The sheer size and luxury of the SUV made the smoking Ford behind it look like a piece of garbage.

The driver’s side door opened. Gus stepped out.

He still wore his cheap, wrinkled clothes. Sweat still coated his forehead. But he held a heavy, silver key fob in his hand. A massive grin split his face.

Gus walked quickly to the rear passenger door. He pulled a pair of pristine white cotton gloves from his pocket and slipped them on. He grabbed the heavy chrome handle and pulled the door open.

Gus bowed deeply from the waist.

“Your car is ready, Miss Dakota,” he said. His voice swelled with pride.

Dakota stared at the plastic protective film still clinging to the edge of the leather seat. She finally understood what Gus meant when he said he was going to “buy a car.” He hadn’t meant a cheap replacement.

She didn’t ask questions. She shoved the diamond necklace back into her pocket, grabbed her faded backpack, and climbed into the cabin.

Gus shut the heavy door. The highway noise vanished instantly. The cabin was dead silent, smelling intensely of rich leather and fresh wood polish.

Gus climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted the gear. The Cullinan surged forward smoothly, leaving the broken Ford behind in the dust.

Dakota sank back into the plush leather. She watched the scenery change outside the tinted windows. The empty trees gave way to concrete buildings.

The SUV drove onto a massive bridge. The skyline of Manhattan rose in the distance, a jagged wall of glass and steel.

Dakota watched the city approach. Her heart beat at a steady, calm pace.

Gus checked the rearview mirror. He expected the girl to be staring in open-mouthed wonder at the luxury around her. Instead, Dakota looked completely bored. Gus gripped the steering wheel tighter, his respect for her growing.

The Cullinan drove deep into the city. The chaotic traffic of Midtown faded as they entered the Upper East Side. Modern glass towers gave way to historic limestone townhouses.

The vehicle slowed. It approached a massive property surrounded by a ten-foot-tall wrought-iron fence. It took up an entire city block.

Two giant stone lions sat on massive pedestals on either side of the gate. A solid brass plaque was bolted to the iron bars. A single word was engraved in deep, elegant letters: SU.

The heavy iron gates slid open silently.

Gus drove onto the property. A massive circular driveway wrapped around a towering stone fountain. Beyond the water, a mansion that looked like a European palace dominated the landscape. It was ten times the size of the Walton estate.

Dakota looked at the massive stone columns and the rows of perfectly symmetrical windows. A tiny flicker of surprise touched her eyes. This was not the slum the Waltons had promised.

The SUV glided to a stop at the base of the wide marble steps leading to the front doors. A line of staff in crisp uniforms stood waiting.

Gus scrambled out of the car. He opened Dakota’s door and bowed his head.

Dakota stepped out. Her worn boots hit the flawless marble driveway. She gripped her cheap canvas bag and looked up at the towering doors of her true home.