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Broken By The Heir, Claimed By Power

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 813 | Released on: 07/01/2026

e jogging out of the building, his camera bag s

it?" Ben asked, his eye

n't bring herself to say the word 'fired' yet. It made it too

n spat. "You're the

ensington legal tea

t away. She need

a silver Porsche 911 screeched to a halt in the l

today. He was in designer jeans and a cashm

a kept walking, aiming

wait!

und, ready to scream. He flinched

she bragged about it at breakfast.

from me,

her by a rubber band. It looked messy, desperate. "I... I couldn't get a check. She froz

cash. It was dirty

ou think you can buy your way out of the fact that

money into her hand. "Please, Elena. I can't stand the thought of you s

no 'we',

tubborn! It

d, she needed it. It would sa

actly what Victoria thought she was: a d

ok the

is face. "Thank you. I knew you'd be reasonable.

hrew th

The wind caught the bills, scattering hundreds of

ed, scrambling to catch a hundred-dol

d, her voice trembling with adrenaline. "And I

pavement, gathering the money as pedestrians stopped

id. "But at least

who was watching the s

. "Give me the

The press van? Elena,

. A corruption lead I've been sitting on. If I break a national story

She just needed to move. She needed to drive

He looked at Spencer groveling for cash on the sidewal

natching the keys. "Come with me. You can

rinned nervously. "I

down the block. Elena jumped into the passenger seat, h

Elen

d lurched into traffic, leaving Spencer K

t the window. The sky above was turning a bruised pur

arning in effect for I-95 North. Drivers are ad

n muttered.

e cool glass. She closed her eye

Chapter End

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Broken By The Heir, Claimed By Power

Zi Ya Modern

“I spent two years navigating the stratified air of Spencer Kensington's world, thinking I was the woman he loved. I even ate instant ramen for months to afford a vintage camera lens for our anniversary. When I got a mysterious text about "Operation Blue Moon," I thought it was our private signal for a proposal. Instead, I walked into a limestone fortress to find the Kensington and Van Der Woodsen Engagement Party in full swing. Spencer wasn't there for a romantic dinner; he was standing under a crystal chandelier, announcing his "business merger" with a blonde heiress. When I confronted him in a service hallway, he didn't apologize. He offered to buy me a brownstone and keep me as his "side project" while his mother, Victoria, watched from the balcony like a queen. "Vanessa is just furniture," he said, his voice full of a terrifying sincerity. "But you're the one I love. I can give you a life of ease." When I refused to be his dirty little secret, the retaliation was instant and brutal. By the next morning, I was fired from my reporting job, my father's nursing home funding was pulled, and I returned home to find my apartment condemned by the city. My entire life was piled in wet boxes on a rain-soaked sidewalk. I couldn't understand how one family could have the power to erase a person's existence in a single night. How could the man who kissed me yesterday watch his mother leave me homeless and penniless today? Standing in the rain next to my ruined belongings, a black SUV pulled up and Mayor Julian Sterling stepped out. He didn't offer me pity; he offered me a deal. "The Kensingtons are panicked," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "And panicked people make mistakes. You have a reason to watch them burn. I want to see what you know." I took his hand, knowing he was just as dangerous as the people I was fighting, but I was done being the victim. This wasn't just a breakup anymore; it was a war.”