The Cursed Heiress

Nadine Clark lingered at the edge of a street, her gaze fixed on a modest two-story home tucked behind a small courtyard.

This was it—the place where the Clark family lived.

For more than twenty years, she'd clung to memories and imagined scenes of the home she'd never truly known.

Now, standing here at last, her heart ached with questions she'd carried for as long as she could remember.

What could have made her real parents turn their backs on her?

How could they leave her to be passed off to strangers, only to end up in the nightmare that was Urygan?

The last words from her foster parents rang in her ears. "You're Nadine Clark, the unwanted child, tossed aside by your own blood."

It was that pain—and the hope of one day facing her birth parents—that gave her the strength to endure everything she'd suffered in Urygan's darkness.

She was about to cross the street when a harsh sound echoed from a grimy alley just a few steps away.

In the shadows, a man who should have been standing tall was instead crumpled on the ground, taking savage blows from a much smaller, mean-faced figure.

"You still believe you're some kind of Clark family prince, that you can call the shots? Wake up! You think you'll get your hands on medicine for your crazy mother?"

Without hesitation, the smaller man raised his boot and smashed it down on the outstretched hand of the man on the ground.

The crack of breaking bone split the air.

The tall man lay huddled on the dirty pavement, his body shaking with pain as a strangled groan slipped past his lips.

Despite the agony, his grip never loosened around the bundle in his arms.

Watching from the shadows, Nadine felt a strange ache in her chest—then, without hesitation, she appeared behind the man's attacker.

The sound of bones snapping rang through the alley. A howl burst from the smaller man as he toppled over, clutching his ankle in shock.

"You have a death wish or something?" Nadine asked, her gaze cold and unflinching.

Writhing on the ground, the thug spat curses between sobs. "You have no idea who you're messing with, you little bitch. You're done for..."

Before he could finish, Nadine pressed her shoe hard onto his injured ankle.

His screams echoed down the alley, desperation twisting his face. "Please! I'm sorry, I swear! I didn't know—I'll never do it again, just let me go!"