

Chapter 1 of Return of the Real Heiress Vengeance Served Cold
Four years studying abroad, graduating top of my class, and coming home to build my career. My mom didn't hesitate for a second before gifting me a private villa as a reward.
"I've already hired someone to clean the new place, sweetheart. You can head straight there from the airport."
"Okay."
I hung up with a smile, walked up to the front door, and reached for the keypad. The code didn't work. I tried again. Still wrong.
I was about to call the housekeeper when a young woman appeared from the back garden, marched straight up to me, and slapped me across the face.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just waltz into my house?"
I stood frozen for a full second, then double-checked the address on my phone. Maplewood Estate was enormous, but there was only one luxury villa on the property.
My mother had spent close to a hundred million dollars on it as a graduation gift. How had it become someone else's home?
None of it made sense. I opened my mouth to explain, and the woman slapped me again, harder this time.
"I don't care which one of Dominic's little side pieces you are. Our wedding is next month, so if you know what's good for you, get lost!"
Dominic Kensington. My gaze flickered. The crybaby who used to follow me around everywhere when we were kids?
"Oh, and in case you didn't know, my mother is the sole heiress of Chapman Group. You couldn't afford to cross her if you had a hundred lives to spare!"
I pressed my palm against my swollen, burning cheek and said nothing. I pulled out my phone and called my mother.
"I hear you've adopted a new daughter back home. Funny how nobody told me."
——
Before I could finish, the phone was smacked out of my hand. It hit the ground with a sharp crack, the screen shattering into a web of broken glass.
Every trace of patience drained from my face. Slapped twice, provoked over and over. Even a saint would have reached her limit.
"Pick. It. Up."
Lydia Butler leaned in close, studying my cold expression, then raised an eyebrow with a smug little smile, as though she were doing me a favor.
"You really can't take a hint, can you? I told you, this is my house. Trespassing is a crime. Be smart and get out before I make you."
"You think calling for backup is going to help? Think Dominic's going to come running to save you?"
"Let me make this crystal clear: Dominic is mine. Only mine."
Listening to this woman go on and on about "Dominic this, Dominic that," all I felt was bewilderment.
I hadn't seen Dominic Kensington in seventeen years. There was nothing between us. This woman had to be delusional.
"I don't care where you crawled out from. My mother bought this house for me, and you don't get to stand here screeching about it."
I shoved my phone screen in her face, the chat with my mom still open. Proof. Plain and simple.
Lydia barely glanced at it. The mockery in her eyes only deepened.
"Wow, you really are shameless. You actually made a fake account to forge chat logs with me and my mother?"
"What, you thought pretending to be a Chapman would make Dominic fall for you?"
"Fine then. Let me put this delusion of yours to rest."
She pulled out her own phone, tapped the screen a few times, and opened her photo gallery.
Over three thousand pictures. Every single one showed her with Dominic and my mother at lavish gatherings, glittering chandeliers and champagne in every frame.
Lydia in tailored couture, sitting demurely beside my mom, her ears flushed pink.
At first glance, it really did look like a mother bringing her daughter to high-society events, maybe even playing matchmaker on the side.
I looked at the photos without a flicker of expression, searching my memory for when I'd supposedly gained a sister like this.
After my parents' amicable divorce, my mom had thrown herself into running the company. She never mentioned remarrying. The thing she told me most often was:
"Once you've graduated, Mom will finally take a break. Don't worry about things here."
I'd stayed abroad the entire time. I knew almost nothing about what had been happening at home. Had I really missed something this big?
There was no time to think it through. Twelve hours on a plane had left me drained to the bone.

















