Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 652 | Released on: 21/01/2026

d of a car engine roared outside. Not a norma

oze. "Who

rson hadn't fully latched i

anderbilt

he owned the deed to the land. His presence sucked the air out of the

rough a rapid transformation from

"Oh my goodness. What a surpri

room until they landed on Dejah, standing

e my friend some

. "Friend? You

the stairs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, orange plastic bottle. It w

rops," Casimir said, his voice sm

w it was a prop. She knew he was pl

she said, tak

yn. The charm vanished. His face be

n't help but overhear at the gate...

... it's just a misunder

iend of the Vanderbilt family use the servants' do

ed like she might faint. "It

door. "I don't like his face," Casimir said simply.

ed to his knees

k, almost imperceptible gesture. "Call me if th

l," sh

, leaving a wake of terr

lculating. She was doing the math. The spare pa

she whispered, he

inued up t

e. She locked the door. She went to the window and watche

," she

r emergency kit years ago-a loose floorboard under an old r

ge of her nose and her cheekbones, altering the way the light hit her face. In the dim lighting of the underground, shadows were more important t

r shoulders forward, adopted a slight sl

gone. In the mirror stood

kylight. The col

o the roof. It was

Chapter End

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Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress

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“I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my body feeling like a hollowed-out shell. For fifteen years, I had been the "spare part" of the wealthy Kensington family, a foster child kept only as a biological resource for their golden daughter, Jenna. My adoptive mother, Kathryn, walked in with a cold-eyed doctor, discussing me like an old car needing parts. They were planning another bone marrow "harvest" for the next morning, even though the doctor admitted the procedure was risky because my body hadn't recovered from the last extraction. "Passable is fine," Kathryn said, waving away the danger to my life like she was swatting a fly. "Just get it done. It's her only value." Jenna arrived in a wheelchair, putting on a performance of fragile sisterly love while actually glowing with health from the blood I had given her months ago. I watched as the doctor callously jabbed a needle into my arm, missing the vein on purpose, before turning off my pain medication pump as a final act of petty cruelty. They left me there to rot, convinced I was just a dull, submissive girl with nowhere to go. I lay in the silence, feeling the weight of every scrap they'd fed me and every hand-me-down I'd worn while Jenna lived in luxury. I realized I was never a daughter to them; I was an organ farm meant to be drained until I was empty. But as the door clicked shut, the fog of sedation in my brain finally lifted, replaced by a cold, predatory stillness. "Oracle," my mind whispered. "Online." I ripped the IV from my arm and escaped into the night, turning a five-dollar piece of junk into a six-million-dollar fortune in the city's darkest underground markets. By the time I returned to the Kensington Manor, I wasn't the useless foster girl they remembered-I was a predator with a massive bank account and a plan to take back everything they stole from me.”