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The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 714    |    Released on: 21/07/2026

speration, and stale cigarettes. Emilee pulled her baseball cap lower. S

ed bored. Then he put on his jeweler's loupe. His eyes widened in absolute t

eating profusely. "This belongs to the

her phone. "Found it

ch it again. "I cannot take this. Taking Pierce prope

ng. The owner jumped. He stared at i

looked at Emilee with wide, fearful eyes.

ed counting out stacks of hundred-dollar bills. "Fifty thousand,"

the line was Carlisle. She knew her flimsy disguise could never hide her from a man with his limitless power, but she didn't care. She had p

oved them into her backpack, and walked ou

d her leave. He held the phone to his ear. "Good," he said to the paw

xpensive," Archer noted

lisle said. "She has her war che

safety of the Oneill manor. Once locked securely inside her bedroom, she pu

n a global underground hacking competition. The fame she gained there caught Nine's attention. Since then, they had formed a

o someone for me," Emil

minute," Ni

e columns. It was a shell game. Julian Vance was using Oneill Media as a money laundering operation. He was funneling illega

on Harper's waist. They looked incredibly intimate. "Cousin" Julian. Emilee felt a wave of di

gust. As she leaned back in her chair, her gaze fell upon a small object

only source of warmth she had ever felt during her brief, terrifying time at that orph

her?" she murmured softly into the e

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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."”