The Real Heiress Only Wanted to Lie Low, Why Provoke Her

01

Growing up, the people I envied most were those trust-fund kids who never had to work for anything.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that at twenty-three, I'd become one of those enviable heiresses myself.

I figured this was finally my chance to kick back and coast. Reality poured a bucket of ice water over that fast.

The family had already handed all the shares to the fake heiress, Karen Henson.

The only reason they claimed me back was to marry me off in an alliance.

I didn't cry, I didn't make a scene. That same night I walked out of the Henson house without looking back and went right on being a nine-to-nine grunt.

But I didn't expect that after I beat the fake heiress on a multinational partnership deal,

my parents would come storming up and slap me across the face. "Bernice Henson, are you going to keep at this until you drag the whole Henson Group into bankruptcy?"

Looking at my parents shaking with fury and the fake heiress with her fake, pained little face, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I picked up my phone and dialed my boss, Connor Gilbert. "You bastard, I'll marry you. I have exactly one condition. Bankrupt Henson Group within two weeks."

For as long as I can remember, I lived in a pigeon coop in the old part of town.

The place had everything going for it, except the neighbors were a little too warm.

Either the sound of someone mincing dumpling filling was enough to rattle you out of bed, or some young couple's fight became a live broadcast for the entire building.

My favorite pastime as a kid was dragging a little folding stool out to the mouth of the alley and watching the people come and go across the street in the gated estates.

Every time I saw one of those mansion daughters toss out some luxury item I'd never even laid eyes on, without so much as a blink, I'd crouch by the trash can and ache over it, sucking in cold air for ages.

Back then I used to wonder why I couldn't be one of those trust-fund kids who ate, slept, and waited around for nothing.

Why did they get to be born already standing in Rome, while I was born to be a workhorse.

Maybe my undying devotion to that wish moved the heavens.

The year I turned twenty-three, I really did become the wealthy heiress of my dreams.

What I didn't expect was this.

My heiress dream lasted less than a day...

before it came to a miserable, bitter end.

The day the Hensons found me, I'd just gotten off a late shift and was sitting on my little electric scooter, waiting for the light at an intersection.

A black Bentley cut across the road right in front of me.

Two men in black suits got out and very politely asked me to get in the car.

They said the chairman of the Henson family wanted to see me.

My first thought was that I'd stumbled into some pyramid scheme.

I reached into my bag for my pepper spray, ready to teach them a lesson.

But before I could make a move, they actually pulled out a DNA test and held it up in front of me.

That was how I learned that the adoptive parents who'd died young weren't my real parents.

I'd been switched at birth, which was why I'd spent all those years wasting away in the slums.

My true identity was the Hensons' long-lost real heiress.

When I heard it, I was so thrilled I could have jumped up and down.

I brought the two of them straight back to the office, pulled out my resignation letter, and slapped it in the face of Connor Gilbert, the boss who'd been squeezing me dry for years.

Connor was just about to leave for the day. When he saw me barge into his office in the dead of night with two men in tow, looking ready for a fight, he immediately smiled.

He said, careless as anything, "Bernice Henson, did you go and hire two kidnappers to abduct me? Relax... I'll have finance wire your overtime pay to your account tomorrow. No need for all this drama."

Connor was my college classmate, from a prominent family.

Back in college he'd pursued me.

But my head was full of one idea back then: if I couldn't marry into money, I'd make my own!

So I turned him down without a second thought.

And that decision was exactly what triggered his obsessive streak.

From then on the man stuck to me like a burr you can't peel off.

I started a business, and he immediately founded an identical company to steal my clients.

I took a job, and he threw down a fortune and bought out whatever company I was working for.

The man had money and no shame about it!

In the end, all I could do was bow to reality and become another beast of burden getting worked to the bone under him.

Three whole years he had me under his thumb, and I'd had more than enough.

So I slapped the DNA test down on his desk, chin tilted so high it was practically pointing at the ceiling.

"See this? I'm an heiress too, so don't you ever think you can push me around again! I'm telling you, I quit!"

Hearing that, Connor twirled the pen in his hand.

Those peach-blossom eyes swept over the two black suits standing ramrod straight beside me, then came back to my face, and he gave a faint smile. "Oh? Is that so? Care to tell me which kind soul took in a spitfire like you and made you an heiress?"

I gave a cold laugh. "The Hensons! The Hensons, whose money is every bit a match for your Gilbert family!"

The moment Connor heard the name Henson, he couldn't hold back a laugh.

There was something in his eyes I couldn't read, a kind of amusement that made my skin crawl.

I was about to demand what was so funny when he beat me to it.

"So it's the Hensons. Then congratulations, Bernice Henson, truly..."

I froze for a second, whether my brain had short-circuited or floated off I couldn't say.

And right then I fired back, "Ha. Scared now, aren't you? Just you wait, Connor Gilbert. One day I'll make you get on your knees and apologize!" And I walked out of his office with my head held high.

Back then, I was still thinking.

I was finally free of this burr, and once I got my footing I'd make the man pay.

But reality dumped a bucket of cold water over me soon enough.

The moment the two men led me into the Henson mansion, the warm gold light of the crystal chandelier over the living room was so bright I couldn't keep my eyes open.

Once they adjusted, I saw a well-preserved middle-aged couple sitting on a leather sofa not far off, and a girl in a cream-colored dress with red-rimmed eyes.

The moment she saw me come in, she shrank back behind Mrs. Henson and called out timidly, "Sister."

I guessed who she was right away.

She had to be Karen Henson, the fake heiress who'd been swapped at birth all those years ago.

But before I could get a word out, Mrs. Henson grabbed my hand and burst into tears.

She kept saying I'd suffered all these years, then turned and told the housekeeper to clear out the south-facing room on the second floor for me, and pressed a black card into my hand, telling me to go buy a couple of outfits I liked.

I was so touched I could hardly stand it. Blood really is blood, I thought.

I thanked her and followed the maid up to the room.

Thinking, at last I could live the good life, eating well and doing nothing.

As for scheming against the fake heiress?

Honestly, I'd never once considered it.

My dream was to be a dead fish, after all. As long as I had endless money to enjoy, I was happy.

Running a company or anything like that? I'd genuinely never thought about it.

With the script of a rich heiress already in my hand, only an idiot would sign up to be a workhorse.

But I didn't expect that, come dinnertime, my new father would teach me a lesson.

That was when I finally understood...

Why Connor Gilbert had worn that amused little smile when he heard I was the Henson heiress...

At dinner, I'd just picked up my chopsticks to reach for the tuna not far off.

My new father cleared his throat and said, "Bernice, you've just come back, so there's probably a lot you don't understand. Karen has been raised at our side for twenty-three years, and the Henson Group shares were transferred into her name long ago. She's familiar with the company's affairs too... so..."

The chopsticks froze in my hand, and my head buzzed.

So the fake heiress was the one running this house now?

Then how was I supposed to be a dead fish?

I lifted my eyes to him right away. "So?"

"So you don't need to get involved with the company. But your mom and I won't shortchange you." My mother jumped in, fishing a car key out of her bag and pushing it in front of me.

"There's a big apartment downtown and this Porsche, both in your name now. Every month we'll also deposit a hundred thousand in spending money for you. You just live comfortably, and when the chance comes we'll find you a good family to marry into. How does that sound?"

I paused.

A hundred thousand in spending money sounded like a lot, but this was Ravenhill, where every inch of land was gold.

And if one day they weren't happy with me, they could cut off the card, take back the house and the car, and I'd be right back in some pigeon-coop apartment.

So I raised my eyes and asked with a smile, "So now that the real heiress is back, all I'm worth is a house, a car, and a hundred thousand in spending money? And I'm supposed to hand the shares and the company over to the fake heiress like a good girl, then wait for you to find a family to sell me off to?"

Hearing that, my new father frowned on the spot and put on the airs of an elder. "Bernice, that's not how it works. Isn't this for your own good? You grew up on the outside, you never studied business management, and if you rushed into the company you'd only be laughed at. Karen is different. She's studied all this with us since she was little... Handing the company to her is the safest move right now..."

"For my own good?" I set down my chopsticks and wiped my mouth.

"When I was out there scraping by on scraps, you were doting on Karen. Now that you've claimed me back, you say it's for my own good and hand everything that should be mine to an outsider? So this is what your good treatment looks like?"

Karen immediately set down her chopsticks and stood, her eyes red enough to drip. "Sister, if you want the shares, I'll give them all to you. It's all my fault, I took your place for so many years... If you're really resentful, you can even hit me a few times... just please don't blame Mom and Dad, okay..."

"Heh. If you really want to give them up..." I looked at Karen with a cold smile.

I was about to fire off a few lines at her, but before I could finish, my mother slammed the table in anger.

"Bernice! Enough! Karen's already said all that, what more do you want? We've already given you a house and money, how can you still be this greedy!"

Greedy?

I laughed.

So the real daughter comes home, gets tossed a few scraps, is about to be sold off in a marriage deal, and the moment I talk back I'm the greedy one?

I couldn't be bothered to act out a family melodrama with them.

I'd rather spend that time going back to being a corporate drone.

At least as a drone I got to decide my own life.

Anything was better than sitting here waiting for them to sell me off.

I stood, picked up the black card and the car key, and looked coldly at my new parents. "Fine. I'll take the house and the money, call it compensation for twenty-three years of raising costs. As for the shares and the company... since you've all decided to give them to Karen, I respect your choice. Just don't come to regret it. Goodbye!" And with that I turned and walked out.

My father called after me, but I didn't stop.

Because I knew...

Staying would only mean swallowing more humiliation.

Better to leave now than wait to be sold off later.

At least this way I'd walked out with a big apartment and a Porsche, right...

04

The moment I stepped out through the Henson gate, I climbed into that brand-new Porsche.

I ran my hand over the wheel and let out a sigh.

"Well. Dream come true for barely half a day, and now it's back to being someone's workhorse." Then I put the car in gear and headed for my rental.

Halfway there, my phone rang. It was HR.

They said Connor wanted me in his office first thing tomorrow to go over the handover for my resignation.

I stared at the dashboard screen for three whole seconds, then couldn't help cursing under my breath.

This awful man. He really wouldn't let up. I'd already walked out, and he still wasn't done with me.

A few hours ago, I'd have hung up and called him a bastard for good measure.

But now my heiress dream was in pieces. I had a house and a lump of money, sure, but sitting around burning through it was no long-term plan. I still needed proof I'd resigned, or my whole working future was cut off.

So I gritted my teeth and said, "Fine. Understood. I'll be there on time tomorrow."

I hung up, switched the phone to silent, tossed it onto the back seat, and stamped down hard on the gas.

The night wind poured in through the window and blew my hair all over my face.

Out of nowhere, the hurt welled up in me.

It wasn't like I'd had my heart set on that sliver of Henson shares. All I'd ever wanted was to coast along, take it easy.

The problem was the way they'd brushed me off, like tossing scraps to a beggar. That was what made me furious.

And Karen had taken twenty-three years of my life. My own birth parents didn't just fail to stand up for me. They helped her push me down instead?

This plot?

These people?

Too far-fetched for even a novel to try.

Who the hell could keep swallowing this...

But so what if I couldn't?

Right now I was on my own, with no connections, no resources, nothing.

Going up against Karen, who was already dug deep into the Henson family, would be like throwing an egg at a rock.

So...

The thought of revenge surfaced in my head for all of three seconds before I shoved it straight to the back of my mind.

I sighed, helpless, and drove on toward the shoebox unit I rented in the old part of town.