The Real Heiress is My Biggest Fan

The second Eden laid eyes on me, her eyes rimmed with red. I braced myself for a classic reality-TV catfight over who the real daughter was. Then, rows of comments suddenly scrolled across my vision:

[She is so excited to see her idol, she is literally about to cry.]

[Wait, does the fake daughter think Eden is some two-faced bitch looking for drama?]

[Eden is literally her number one fan!]

I took a half-step back, putting a safe distance between us. Standing across from me, Eden suddenly gripped the hem of her shirt and stuttered, "SSloane I love you so much!"

"?"

Has the plot lost its freaking mind?

Chapter 1

I was touching up my makeup in the dressing room when the door was shoved open. Roman kicked over a chair by the entrance and strode in with a few bodyguards. Their leather shoes scraped harshly against the floorboards as they boxed me in against the vanity.

"Sloane, you're a fake. Here are the DNA results. See for yourself."

The rest of the crew froze, their eyes darting toward the commotion. I didn't miss a beat. Years in the entertainment industry had thickened my skin. I slowly capped my lipstick and met his gaze in the mirror.

"Roman, this is my set. If you have a problem, we can deal with it tonight at the house."

He scoffed, leaning closer. "Drop the act, Sloane. You're a fraud. Without the family backing you, you're nothing."

A laugh escaped my lips. He was family; he should know better than anyone. My parents had done everything short of locking me in a tower to keep me out of showbiz. They hadn't given me a single dime or connectionthey just wanted me to quit and take over the corporate empire.

Meanwhile, this idiot was riding our grandfather's coattails, playing boss at the conglomerate just because he was my cousin.

Roman yanked a petite girl out from behind him and shoved her forward. "Open your eyes, Sloane. This is the real heiress. You're just a cheap knockoff."

I swept my gaze over the girl, and the answer hit me instantly. She was a carbon copy of my mother. She looked up at me, and her eyes immediately filled with tears.

I grabbed the heavy bottle of setting spray from the table, resting my thumb over the nozzle. Are we throwing down right now?

My last leading role was literally about a returning heiress destroying a two-faced imposter. Was my reality turning into a trashy soap opera? If she lunged at me, I was ready to spray her right in the eyes.

Just as I opened my mouth to bite back, rows of text suddenly scrolled through my vision:

[She is so excited to see her idol, she is literally about to cry.]

[Wait, does the fake daughter think Eden is some two-faced bitch looking for drama?]

[Eden is literally her number one fan!]

Female lead? Supporting role? Did I get slipped a new script?

Seeing her frozen, Roman shoved the girl's shoulder.

"Eden, this is the fraud who stole your life. Tell her to get lost. We'll have your parents blacklist her so she can never work in Hollywood again. Let her see what happens when you cross us."

Eden kept her red-rimmed eyes locked on me, her chest heaving faster. I tightened my grip on the bottle. She was getting worked upmaybe she was crazier than I thought.

"You're Eden?"

Before I could finish, Roman cut in.

"Her name is Eden. She's the real deal. You don't deserve the family name. You belong in the gutter."

Eden whipped around, grabbed a half-empty glass of ice water from the table, and splashed it right onto Roman's custom-tailored suit.

"Shut your filthy mouth."

I froze, and Roman stood there paralyzed, dripping wet. This delicate little girl had just unleashed hell. It seemed Roman was universally despised.

Then, Eden turned her attention back to me. Just as I braced myself for an all-out brawl, her cheeks flushed crimson.

She stuttered, "SSloane I love you so much!"

"?"

Has the plot lost its freaking mind?

Before I could process what was happening, the comments in my vision exploded again.

Chapter 2

[Damn, Eden's got guts. Straight up confessing her love.]

[Why is the fake daughter just standing there? Is she still trying to start a fight?]

The doomed fake daughter, zero chance of winning.

[Seriously, Sloane, please. Don't fight her. If you just give Eden a single smile, she'd literally rip Roman's head off and hand it to you.]

I studied Eden with a heavy dose of skepticism. After a brief hesitation, I forced the corner of my mouth up. Eden's eyes lit up instantly.

"Sloane, are you smiling at me?"

If I told her my face just twitched, would she buy it?

Seeing me nod, Eden excitedly whipped out her phone and pressed her palms together in a pleading gesture. "Sloane, can we take a selfie? Just one! I swear I'll use the best filters and only touch up your face."

I pressed my lips together to stop a laugh. This girl was actually kind of entertaining. "Sure."

The second she got the green light, Eden leaned in close. The camera shutter snapped. Then she immediately hopped back, putting a respectful distance between us. Like she was terrified of crossing my boundaries.

Maybe trying to smooth things over, my agent, Chelsea, grabbed a stack of my headshots and handed them to Eden. "Thanks for being such a big fan of our Sloane."

Eden reached out to take them, her face glowing.

I quickly stepped forward and clamped my hand over the photos. "Hold on."

Eden stared at my hand, her eyes instantly welling up again. "I'm sorry, Sloane. I'll give them right back."

The comments started panicking:

[Is the fake daughter looking down on her?]

[Sloane, don't be a bitch! If you break Eden's heart, no one's going to have your back later.]

[It's over. The fake daughter is definitely getting sold off to a Vegas mob club by those scumbags to pay off their debts.]

Vegas mob club? Pay off debts? What the hell were they talking about?

Even without the family's money, I was a trending actress in Hollywood. My future was perfectly secure. Besides, I wasn't even trying to be a bitch to Eden.

I pulled the stack from Chelsea's hands, slid the bottom two photos out, grabbed a sharpie, and signed the top one before handing it back to Eden.

"Those bottom two are unreleased stills from my new project. NDA stuff. I have to hold onto them for now. But you can keep this signed one."

Eden nodded furiously, clutching the signed photo to her chest.

I shot a sideways glance at Chelsea. She managed my PR. She knew damn well those stills were confidential. Why would she just hand them over to a stranger?

If those leaked, the studio would sue me into the ground. And I would naturally blame Eden for the leak, sparking a massive war between us.

But Chelsea was my agent. If I went down, her fifteen percent cut vanished. What was her angle?

While my mind was racing, the comments in my vision went crazy again:

[What's up with the fake daughter? Did she just get smart and see through the agent's toxic trap?]

[That death glare Sloane just gave was so badass. Can she and Eden just team up? I'm shipping them!]

A toxic trap? Was Chelsea really trying to sabotage me?

Roman suddenly found his voice again. "Who the hell do you think you are, Sloane? Just a couple of trashy pictures. You think anyone actually cares?

Holding them back like they're worth something. You're just a cheap actress. Don't push your luck."

His mouth was trash. Someone needed to take out the trash. I was scanning the vanity for something heavy enough to shut him up permanently.

But Eden completely snapped.

Without a word, she lunged forward, grabbed Roman by his expensive tie, yanked him down hard, and delivered a blistering slap right across his face.

"Who gave you permission to speak to Sloane like that?"

A dead silence dropped over the room.

She wasn't done.

Eden tightened her grip on his collar and shoved him violently forward until he stumbled right in front of me.

"Apologize to Sloane. Now."

I stared down at Roman, my expression icing over.

Chapter 3

Roman clutched his stinging cheek, his face contorting in rage. "Eden, I'm trying to help you!

Sloane is a fake who stole your life! And you're hitting me to protect her? Are you out of your freaking mind?"

The second the words left his mouth, Eden lunged again, bringing her fist down hard.

"Still talking trash? I'll shatter every damn tooth in your mouth, you reeking piece of garbage!"

This girl was savage.

Roman covered his head, shouting that he was going to beat her. The bodyguards who had entered with them immediately stepped up. Two men in black suits, nearly seven feet tall, took a heavy step forward, using their massive frames to completely shield Eden. The sheer bulk of muscle straining against their jackets made Roman involuntarily stumble back two steps.

Roman wildly threw his hands up in defeat. "You idiot! I'm done with you. Just wait until she eats you alive."

After Roman stormed out, Eden looked at me, trembling with excitement, the tips of her ears burning red. "Sloane, are you really going to eat me alive?"

I glanced at the stage manager, who had been hovering in the doorway for a while, sweating bullets and looking like he was about to have an ulcer. I looked back at Eden. "You should head back first. Don't hold up my shoot."

Eden's shoulders instantly slumped, her chin dropping to her chest.

The comments boiled over again:

[Sloane's mouth is lethal. Can someone please mute her?]

[Eden is way too sensitive. But what do you expect when she was abused her whole childhood? She's so used to being hated. The tragedy of a toxic family!]

Eden was abused by her biological family her whole life? Did that mean she suffered all that trauma in my place?

The realization tightened my chest. I swallowed the harsh dismissal sitting on my tongue and quickly pivoted. "My next scene involves heavy pyrotechnics. Having unauthorized people on set messes with my focus."

Eden's head snapped up, her energy instantly spiking back to a hundred. "Got it, Sloane! I'll clear the set for you right now.

I swear nobody will ruin your focus. You're going to kill it! See you next time!"

Watching her scurry out the door, I fell into a moment of deep thought. Maybe the real heiress wasn't here to rip me apart after all.

After wrapping up on set, I didn't head back to the family estate. During the drive, I dug into the background of what actually happened twenty-two years ago. It wasn't some trashy soap opera plot with a bribed nanny, nor was it a deliberate scheme by business rivals. Eden and I being swapped was a pure, chaotic accident.

Both mothers went into labor on the exact same day during a massive earthquake. The hospital was a total war zone. Security protocols were nonexistent back then, and in the sheer panic, a catastrophic mistake was made.

I told my driver to drop me off at Vernon and Darlene's place, my biological parents. Unlike the sprawling mansion I grew up in, their apartment was located in a rundown, sketchy project complex. The entire unit was smaller than my master bathroom.

Hearing the noise, Darlene walked out, her hair tightly coiled in cheap plastic curlers. When she saw me, she froze for a split second before her face split into an overly eager grin. "You must be Sloane, right? No, wait, we should be giving you our family name now!"

I maintained a flat expression. "Sorry, but I have no intention of changing my legal name right now. I have multiple studio contracts tied to my current name. Changing it would trigger a legal nightmare."

The fake, enthusiastic grin instantly melted off her face. She turned her head toward the dark hallway and yelled, "Vernon! Your big movie star daughter is here."

I tightened my grip on the strap of my purse. Did I just piss off my biological parents before I even stepped foot inside? Eden had been extremely sensitive.

Were they just as fragile? Did they think my practical answer meant I was rejecting them?

While I was trying to read the room, the floating text in my vision started going wild again.

[The fake daughter's trash-tier parents finally make an appearance.]

[I literally want to reach through the screen and slap them. I feel so powerless!]

The moment my biological father, Vernon, stepped out of the shadows, the comments completely flooded my sight.

[Here comes the demonic old bastard!]

[This scumbag ruined Sloane's life.]

[Slap him! Someone beat this creep to death!]

Chapter 4

Why were these comments radiating so much malice toward my biological parents?

Vernon rubbed his hands together as he stepped closer, the corner of his mouth stretching into a sickening smirk. "Sloane, your mother and I missed you so much. To think we had it wrong all these years, raising someone else's kid for nothing. That girl, Eden"

Before he could finish, Darlene snapped at him. "Why are you bringing up that ungrateful brat? She waltzes into a mansion and forgets all about her real home.

Wasted twenty years on her. Sloane, you aren't going to just leave us out in the cold, are you?"

Facing Darlene's greedy, expectant stare, I kept my voice dead flat. "Biologically, you are my parents. Based on that alone, if you are truly about to end up on the streets, I can have my lawyer authorize a monthly handout of no more than eight hundred dollars."

Darlene spent her days blowing cash playing Texas Hold'em in underground poker rooms, and Vernon occasionally drove Uber to scrape together gas money. The rest of their living expenses came directly from Eden busing tables and scrubbing dishes at diners just to keep them afloat. Eden had literally kept them alive. The absolute audacity to call her an ungrateful brat.

Hearing the exact dollar amount, Darlene's face plummeted, and her pitch skyrocketed. "You're a massive Hollywood star, and you're only giving us eight hundred bucks?"

Not enough? Then take nothing.

Before I could say the words out loud, Vernon jumped in and pointed a finger at Darlene. "The kid just got back, and you're already shaking her down for cash? What's wrong with you?

Hurry up and get some groceries. Make Sloane something good for dinner, you hear me?"

Darlene twisted around and stomped off. I had every intention of walking out the door, but Vernon's suffocatingly eager hospitality cornered me into staying.

That evening, Darlene dragged out a few cheap, frozen pizzas, while Vernon specifically slid a glass of cranberry juice packed with heavy ice cubes across the table toward me. "Sloane, drink this. It'll cool you off."

They shoved pizza slices onto my plate with sickeningly sweet smiles, but I could see the filthy calculation swimming in their eyes.

My stomach rolled. I'd survived in the entertainment industry long enough to spot a bad acting job from a mile away.

I wasn't the only one disgusted. The comments were practically throwing up too.

[Once she drinks that, those garbage parents are going to strip her naked, film it, and blackmail her into being a plaything for rich, twisted creeps.]

[That old bastard! How can anyone be this evil!]

I'd heard about every dirty trick in Hollywood. But biological parents drugging their own flesh and blood to shoot blackmail porn? That was a new level of depravity. Were Vernon and Darlene truly capable of something that monstrous?

I pushed the glass of cranberry juice back toward Vernon. "Too much sugar."

Darlene sneered. "So damn picky!"

Vernon shot back, "Actresses have to maintain their figures. It's hard work."

He nudged a plastic bowl of limp salad greens toward me. "Sloane, here. Just have some salad."

I could tell he was desperate to suck up to me. Maybe they weren't the absolute psychopaths the comments claimed.

"Sloane, your mother went to the trouble of putting this together. Are you really not going to touch a single bite? Are you disgusted by us just because we aren't as rich as the family that raised you?"

The guilt trip hit its mark. The comments swore the drink was spiked. I'd ignore the juice, choke down a few leaves of lettuce to be polite, and get the hell out of here.

Mind made up, I forced down a small bowl of the dry salad before dropping my fork.

Vernon's lips peeled back, exposing a set of stained teeth in a wide grin. "Sloane, you really are Daddy's good girl. Have some more. Eat up."

His greasy expression made the hair on my arms instantly stand up, a layer of goosebumps prickling my skin. I hadn't checked the floating comments in a few minutes. I glanced up, and the text was scrolling in an absolute frenzy.

[It's over. She's completely screwed.]

[No saving her now. This is her villain origin story.]

A cold spike of dread hit my stomach. I scrolled back to check the missed messages.

Chapter 5

[Sloane, the salad is spiked too. Trust me, I'm a VIP subscriber.]

[Could you type any slower? She already ate half the bowl!]

The blood drained from my face. I immediately pushed my chair back to leave.

Vernon's thick fingers clamped around my wrist like a vice. "Sloane, what's the rush? Stay and chat a bit longer."

I violently yanked my arm out of his grip and pivoted toward the hallway. "Fine. Let me use the restroom first."

I slipped inside, slammed the door, and flipped the deadbolt. I dug into my pocket for my phone to dial 911. The second I pulled it out, a cold sweat broke over my skin. It was a plastic dummy phone.

Rapid, aggressive knocking pounded against the wood. Darlene and Vernon's twisted, urgent voices seeped through the crack.

"Sloane, you've been in there a while. Aren't you coming out?"

"Do you need Mommy to come in and help you?"

My vision started to double, and my limbs felt like they were filled with lead, sinking uncontrollably. I scanned the cramped bathroom. No windows. Zero escape routes.

The sound of metal scraping against the lock echoed from the hallway. The comments in my vision flared up in a frenzy.

[Darlene got the spare key. She is actually finished.]

[Once that old bastard gets the blackmail tape, he'll force her to sleep with his rich backers. They'll drug her and ruin her. The poor girl is going to be trafficked, and this is what destroys her.]

Bile rose in my throat. Just as I clenched my fists, ready to charge out and fight to the death, a low-visibility comment caught my eye. A lifeline.

[Hold on, Sloane! Eden will be there in thirty minutes!]

If the comments weren't lying, I just had to survive for half an hour. I frantically tore through the bathroom cabinets. I grabbed a bottle of heavy-duty toilet bowl cleaner and a can of hairspray.

The door burst open with a deafening crash.

Vernon and Darlene blocked the exit, staring me down like starved predators.

I backed against the sink, my hands gripping my improvised weapons behind my back. "What are you doing?"

Vernon sneered at me. "You little brat. You thought hiding in the bathroom would stop us? I'm going to make you crawl on your knees and beg me!"

He lunged at me with outstretched arms.

I violently kicked out, driving my heavy boot squarely into his crotch.

He clearly didn't expect me to have any strength left. The impact hit dead center.

Vernon let out a raw, agonizing howl and collapsed in half.

"Darlene, kill this little bitch!"

Darlene raised a rusty claw hammer, swinging it viciously toward my head.

I dodged sideways, yanked the cap off the toilet bowl cleaner, and slashed the pungent, highly corrosive acid directly into her eyes.

She dropped the hammer, clawing at her face as a blood-curdling scream ripped from her throat.

I shoved past their thrashing bodies and sprinted for the front door. I grabbed the handle and yanked. It wouldn't budge. They had deadbolted it from the outside.

No matter how hard I tore at the lock, it remained jammed.

Scuffling noises echoed behind me. My vision blurred. I couldn't waste another second fighting the front door. I stumbled to the nearest bedroom, shoved myself inside, and slammed the door shut.

It only took a few minutes for those two psychopaths to recover and charge after me. Fists and heavy metal pounded against the bedroom door.

Every jagged breath scraped against my tight throat. But the drug was tearing through my system. I didn't even have the strength to stand. My knees buckled, and I slid down the wall, pressing my dead weight against the flimsy wood.

Vernon's psychotic roaring bled through the cracks. "Open this door right now, you little bitch, or I swear to God I'll ruin you!"

CRASH.

The wood splintered as the rusty claw hammer smashed a hole straight through the center. Within seconds, the lock gave way, and the door kicked open.

Vernon and Darlene stood over my paralyzed body, twisted, malicious grins stretching across their faces. Vernon stepped forward, his boots heavy on the floorboards. He tangled his coarse fingers into my hair, yanking my head back. The icy, serrated edge of a hunting knife pressed tight against my cheek.

"Run now, you little bitch. Why aren't you running?"

Chapter 6