icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit

The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit

Author: Maui
icon

Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1476    |    Released on: 21/07/2026

p cologne and severe ha

eight that barely reached Emilee's shoulders was trying to pin her to th

lee nauseous. "Take a good look at yourself. You're nothing but a useless, unwanted mute. A pathetic piece of garbage. You aren't even fit to shine my shoes! But y

round and delivered a vicious, bone

the floor and clutching himself in agony, unable to stand

door open, E

corridor without a sound. That was the problem with expensive plac

. That disgusting old man's bodyguards and

o the wall. Pain shot down the arm, sharp and gr

e clinical term. It felt more like drowning on dry la

darted down t

ack door with gold trim stood slightly ajar. I

against the door and

d of expensive leather, aged whiskey

unshot.She pressed her back against the wood, her chest heaving. Heavy footsteps thudded outside

n't know she was holding. Then

ped her

ting on the sofa, legs crossed, an arm draped casu

she recognized him from financial reports. The t

e social ladder. She vividly recalled how her father had acted like a fawning, tail-wagging dog, trying desperately to curry favor with the man sitting before her. To get even th

nted. It couldn't get worse than the bald bastard beh

but she forced them to move. She reached into her pocket,

thmically against the crystal glass. Tap. Tap. Tap. H

him, she planted both hands on his shoulders and shoved him back onto the velvet sof

ody tensing under her hands, a da

ibbled quickly, the tip tearing the paper.

e looke

jagged, rushed. MARR

posal," he said, his voice deep, smooth, like gravel wrapped in

. "But I'm not interested in playing charity. Get

his wrist. Her hand was sm

p at her face. Her eyes were terrified. Not the fake terro

y footsteps returned. "Did

n. She shook her head frantically. Please. The word

ist, breaking her grip, and then caught her hand in his. He pulled her closer. She stumble

spered, his breath warm against her skin, a

es as stubborn as a cornered little beast that still

ssed Carlisle's eyes, quickly followed by a sub

to stir even a ripple in his stagnant pool of desire. But now, as her unique scent-a delicate trace of vanilla intertwined with the sharp tang of adrenaline-filled his senses, and the ghost of her c

n muscles. The sheer absurdity that she was the one to make his pulse tick faster after years of absolute numbness was intrigu

smile touched the c

n octave, carrying a low, gravelly weight th

uit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It engu

go,"

n door, but to a panel in

lack Maybach was w

marriage license prepped. Now. Yes, I'm serious. Get a judge on the line and arran

ket. She watched him. He was

his watch. A P

Don't get any ideas," he said

heeks heating up under th

office, a man in a sharp suit was wait

Emilee's fishnets with horro

pen, Archer,"

hand shook, but the letters

to her. His signature

s married. According to her mother's trust fund stipulations,

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
“My stepmother's bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat-a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company's bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left-my late mother's multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It'll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother's stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."”