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Too Late To Beg The Heiress

Too Late To Beg The Heiress

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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1183    |    Released on: 11/05/2026

ed against the exterior siding with a scre

on the zipper of her f

esitate. She grabbed the strap of Arielle's bag and hurled it out the open doorway. It landed with a sickeni

ture in her chest plummeted, leavi

red. Flecks of spit flew from her lips. "Eighteen years! We fed you for eighteen years just to

d just enough so the flying saliva missed h

ed. The elderly woman peeked out, her eyes wide, but the second Mabe

lp here. There

avy step forward. She thrust out a meat

ed metal of the key. She pulled it out and, without breaking eye contact, opened her h

al sound of rage and b

walked straight into the torrential downpour. The icy rain hit her instantly, plast

e cracked over the roar of the storm. "You won't get a

the rest of the threat. Ari

ndles of her duffel bag. She didn't care about the cheap clothes inside. Her thumb pressed a

over the grav

. The heavy tires hit a puddle, sending a wave of brown sludge splashing up. Arielle to

e purred. The passe

her pristine blowout. She looked down at her beige leather heel

e slapped a fake, sickeningly sweet smile onto her face and used the sleev

She reached into her Birkin bag, pulled out a

sh," Brenda said, her voice

ps. It was barely a sound, but in the heavy

g wet form, lingering on the mud on her face. "Keep away from Kimora.

ed the dirt from her cheeks, leaving h

ain eight hundred milliliters of my blood every month to keep up t

rd the neighboring trailers, her chest heaving. She took a step

hropoietic porphyria with a secondary autoimmune deficienc

, quickly replaced by explosive rage. She raised her hand, the massive diamond on

didn't

air. The impact sent a shockwave up Arielle's arm, but her grip

pop

t a blood-cur

s sliding in the sludge. She crashed backward into the mud pud

abel screamed, lunging for

falling in a slow, controlled rhythm. "That is

and walked toward the dirt p

tate again!" Brenda shrieked, her voice

the shadows of the trees, she reached into her

. The harsh backlight illumi

ed the screen. Arielle's thumb moved over the keypad in

the fake interface and revealin

amed Nico flashed: Are you

ar. Cut the offshore funding for

nel through the heavy sheet of rain. Arielle didn't even flinch. She simply tilt

st her neck and marched toward the neon sign of a motel

ed through the air. A shower of blue sparks rained do

bsolute darkness, erasing every

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Too Late To Beg The Heiress
Too Late To Beg The Heiress
“For eighteen years, Arielle was raised in a cramped trailer park, treated as nothing more than a walking blood bag to keep her sick sister, Kimora, breathing. But today, her adoptive family hurled her belongings into a muddy pothole and kicked her out into the freezing rain. "Get the hell out, you ungrateful parasite! You'll rot in the gutter!" Kimora's wealthy biological mother threw a check at her chest, warning her to stay away, while Kimora stepped out of a Porsche to mock her in the mud, flaunting her upcoming violin solo at Lincoln Center. They didn't care that Arielle was the one locked in a basement, forced to write that very violin piece until her fingers bled. They had drained eight hundred milliliters of her blood every month to keep up the illusion of Kimora's health, and now that they were done using her, they threw her away like garbage. Did they really think she was just a fragile, broken country girl who would starve without them? They had no idea she was a top-tier hacker who had just frozen a third of their offshore assets with a single keystroke. As a massive, armored Maybach pulled up to take her back to her true bloodline-the ultra-wealthy Chandler empire-and her terrifyingly powerful billionaire fiancé, Arielle wiped the mud from her face. Manhattan was waiting, and she was going to burn their world to the ground.”