Cutting the Strings: The Heiress's Revenge
6.9
Rating
15
Chapters
30.5K
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Billionaire
Revenge
Romance
Rebirth
Mafia
Victoria gave up her youth to raise her fiancé’s siblings and build his reputation as a hospitality tycoon. But when she catches them praising his new mistress and plotting to steal her inheritance, she doesn't shed a tear. She simply locks the bank accounts. As their black cards decline and the fake empire crumbles, Victoria teams up with a ruthless corporate raider to serve her ultimate revenge. They wanted a life without her rules? They can have it without her billions.
Catalogue
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Chapter 1
The private elevator ascending to the triplex penthouse of the Sterling Tower was practically silent, a marvel of modern engineering that Victoria Sterling had personally approved during the building’s construction. She leaned against the mirrored wall, allowing her eyes to slip shut for just a fraction of a second. The flight from Tokyo had been brutal, fourteen hours of recycled air and relentless negotiations to secure a massive supply chain contract for Sterling Hospitality. She had closed the deal, of course. She always did. Victoria adjusted the collar of her sharp, charcoal-grey blazer, her reflection staring back at her with cool, calculating dark eyes. At twenty-eight, she had spent the better part of a decade operating in the shadows of her own empire. When she met Arthur Pendelton eight years ago, he was a struggling junior manager with big dreams and two orphaned teenage siblings to raise. Victoria had fallen for his ambition, or rather, the potential of it. She had quietly funneled her vast, inherited wealth into building a hospitality empire, installing Arthur as the face of the company—the charismatic CEO—while she acted as his 'consultant' and handled the grueling reality of running the business. She had raised his siblings, Mason and Lily, as her own. She had bought them a family. Or so she thought. The elevator doors chimed softly and parted, revealing the sprawling, marble-floored foyer of the penthouse. Victoria stepped out, her designer heels sinking into the plush, custom-woven rug. She hadn’t told Arthur she was arriving a day early. She had envisioned a quiet evening, perhaps a glass of wine and a rare moment of connection with her fiancé before the quarterly board meeting tomorrow.Instead, a burst of loud, raucous laughter echoed from the sunken living room. Victoria paused, her hand hovering over the keypad that controlled the smart-home lighting. That wasn't the television. That was Mason’s booming, nineteen-year-old laugh, followed closely by the high-pitched giggle of his twin sister, Lily. "I'm just saying," Mason's voice carried clearly over the ambient jazz music playing from the hidden speakers, "if Victoria catches you drinking that, she's going to initiate a total lockdown. You know how she gets. The woman has a spreadsheet for our oxygen intake."Victoria frowned, her hand dropping to her side. She stepped silently down the hallway, the shadows of the corridor concealing her approach. She paused just behind the massive, freestanding limestone fireplace that separated the dining area from the living room. "Oh, let her track it," Arthur’s voice drifted over, thick with amusement and an expensive buzz. "She’s in Tokyo until tomorrow night. God, it’s been so nice being able to actually breathe in my own house for a week without her nagging about quarterly projections or expense reports.""Your aura is definitely lighter, Arthur," a soft, breathy voice replied. Victoria froze. That wasn’t Lily. She leaned slightly, peering through the gap between the limestone pillars. The scene in her living room looked like a perfectly curated advertisement for a lifestyle she despised. Arthur lounged in the center of the white leather sectional, looking effortlessly handsome in his unbuttoned linen shirt. Mason and Lily were draped over the matching armchairs, holding crystal goblets filled with a dark, ruby liquid. Victoria’s eyes zeroed in on the bottle sitting on the glass coffee table. It was her 1990 Château Margaux. A five-thousand-dollar bottle she had purchased at auction to celebrate her late father’s birthday. But it was the woman sitting practically in Arthur’s lap that made the air in Victoria’s lungs turn to ice. Elara Thorne.
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