Meets Her Doom

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

Rollins Laman

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Modern Revenge Rebirth/Reborn

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My dad told me that when my mom was still alive, she used to tell me both untold stories or unusual ones and renowned tales about myths of death and cycles of life even when I was still in her womb.

She greatly influenced my beliefs which piqued the interest of my young curious mind to be fond of reading mysterious hidden tales and mythology.

It was bed time, the cold looming moon shines brightly up at the starry night sky when I decided to spend my long night reading rather than sleeping.

I got up from my bed, heading to our manor's library holding a white long scented candle placed on the gold glass flickering brightly against the dark and a book on the other side which I had finished just 2 days ago.

As I reached my destination, I still can't help but to be amazed and fascinated by the beauty of the interiors of our very own house which was owned and expanded by our ancestors and has been passed down from generation to generation.

I scrunched my nose with the familiar scent of the painted paved archaic walls where the big old portraits were hanged and displayed grandly and the greek doric columns which exhibits minimalistic beauty in simplicity.

Bibliosmia...

The wooden smell coming from the old books mixed with the faint aroma of coffee that surrounds this marvelous room entices me every time and bewitches me to be indulged and unravel the implicit bareness of each wonderfully crafted books up until it's tiniest details.

I returned the book I brought to it's rightful own place and picked a new one to read at the same shelf.

I traced my fingers to the dusty old letters engraved on the hardbound cover.

Mythology...

In general, others referred it as a study and interpretation of often sacred tales or fables of a culture known as myths...

Some basically defines it as the collection of such classical old tales and mythical cultural stories which deal with various aspects of the human condition...

May it be good or evil.

I paused reading as I heard an indistinct rustling sounds in the surroundings of this large dark room.

I roamed my big doe eyes across the dark surroundings yet I can not find anything odd or strange except for the disarrayed arrangement of books on the gigantic shelves.

I just shrugged and continued reading the page where I last off.

It further elaborated that some of such tales give a story behind the meaning of suffering, others may be a conceptual or theoretical various explanations of human origins such as how life was created and how earth was formed.

It expresses the beliefs and values about these subjects held by a certain culture from all around the world.

All in all, there are millions of myths existing from different races and from different countries that tell the stories of ancestors and the origin of humans and the world, the gods, and the supernatural beings.

I read to my heart's content until the drowsiness engulfed me.

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