The Unclaimed Heiress: My Second Chance at Revenge

To ruin my reputation, the fake heiress's suitors deliberately approached me.

The aloof valedictorian stood up for me when I was being bullied.

The rebellious billionaire heir pretended to be broke, begging me to take him in on a rainy night.

But on the night my heart finally fluttered and I went to confess my feelings, what greeted me was a gang of thugs ready to humiliate me.

Asher trampled the scarf I had knit for him into the mud, saying in absolute disgust:

"You deadbeat trash, you actually thought you could steal Chloe's life?"

Ethan stepped out of the car, urging coldly:

"Let's go. Chloe is flying back to the country today."

To save myself, I leaped from the top of the building to a tragic death.

When I woke up again, I had miraculously returned to the snowy night Asher showed up at my apartment door pretending to be broke.

"Riley, you absolute trash, you actually think you can compete with me for the study-abroad spot?"

"Writing a complaint letter? I think you're a bit too naive, bitch!"

As soon as the words fell, an entire bucket of freezing, filthy water was splashed over me.

Through my soaking wet bangs, the school's golden girl, Chloe Sinclair, was glaring at me viciously.

Immediately after, a barrage of slaps rained down on me.

It wasn't until I was weakly slumped on the dirty bathroom floor like a dog that Chloe smiled in satisfaction and told her lackeys to stop.

Before leaving, she flashed her sweet, signature dimples and patted my cheek.

"Know your place. Don't try to fight me."

It made sense. She was the jewel of the wealthy Sinclair family; whatever she wanted, she got.

And I was just a destitute orphan who was only able to attend this prep school because of the Sinclair family's charity foundation.

But in my previous life, right before I died, I learned the incredibly absurd truth about my origins.

I was the Sinclair family's biological daughter.

And Chloe Sinclair was nothing but a fake heiress who had stolen my nest.

I wrung out my soaking wet clothes and stood up.

Just as I walked out of the restroom, I crashed headfirst into a firm chest.

"Are you alright?"

I looked up and recognized the person. It was Ethan Vance.

As the wealthy, aloof top student, countless girls in school slipped love letters into his locker.

But every single time, with a cold expression, he would dump the gifts and letters straight into the trash.

In my past life, however, for the sake of his beloved Chloe, Ethan and the billionaire heir, Asher Sterling, launched a "capture" strategy against me.

Whenever I was bullied and humiliated, Ethan would stand in front of me and be my knight in shining armor.

Meanwhile, Asher pretended to be homeless just to get close to me, pitifully calling me "sister" and begging me to take him in.

Eventually, after spending every day together, I fell for Asher.

On his twentieth birthday, I carried a large cake I had saved up for months to buy, planning to give him a surprise.

Instead, he drugged me and shipped me off to an abandoned warehouse in the suburbs.

When I woke up, I watched Asher take off the scarf I had painstakingly knit for him, throwing it into the mud and grinding it under his expensive shoes.

"You actually fell in love with me? You disgusting trash, just looking at your face makes me sick."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Through blurry tears, I forced the words out of my dry, hoarse throat.

"Heh, blame the fact that your existence threatens to steal everything from Chloe."

He shot me a look of pity, charitably granting me the truth.

Ethan stepped out of his Maybach and said coldly, "Once the photos are leaked, the Vance family won't accept a daughter whose reputation is entirely ruined."

The thugs eagerly reached their hands toward my chest.

In ultimate despair, I cried and begged them at the top of my lungs: "I won't affect Chloe! I'll stay far away! My little sister is still in the hospital, I need to make money to save her..."

Asher's footsteps paused for a fraction of a second.

Ethan urged, "It's just taking some photos, they won't go too far. Chloe is waiting for us at the airport."

In the end, to save myself from the assault, I threw myself off the roof of the building.

My mangled body smashed heavily onto Ethan's luxury car.

The agonizing pain of countless glass shards piercing my body still made me shiver uncontrollably.

"Let me take you to the nurse's office first."

Ethan's gentle, deep voice pulled me out of my memories.

He leaned in close, taking off his jacket and draping it over my shivering shoulders.

At this close distance, I could clearly see the concern and heartache in his eyes.

Ethan's acting was truly spectacular.

In my past life, forced by circumstance, I was overly mature and seemingly independent, but deep down, I was insecure, sensitive, and starved for affection.

During the most helpless moments of my long-term bullying, Ethan extended a helping hand.

Like a knight, he always appeared when I was at my most wretched.

When my sister's heart condition relapsed and she was rushed into emergency surgery, Ethan stepped in and got the chief of surgery to operate on her.

To wait with me at the hospital, he even gave up a precious interview for an Ivy League early-admissions program.

Everyone said the aloof genius was madly in love with me.

But it wasn't until right before I died that I realized every disaster I suffered had been orchestrated by him.

Just to ensure Chloe secured the study-abroad spot.

He used money and power to bribe the school administration, making sure my application "got lost" so I would lose my chance.

The familiar scent of cold pine filled my nose.

I clenched the hands hidden in my pockets so hard my nails dug into my flesh, forcing myself to smile through the phantom pain.

"Thank you for the trouble, Ethan."

Ethan's gaze faltered for a second.

In my past life, due to my deep-seated inferiority complex, I always kept my head down, never daring to meet his eyes.

But this time, I clearly saw the reflection of the girl in his dark pupils.

Eyes curved in a soft smile, her gaze pure and clean.

The absolute picture of a naive, easily manipulated little bunny.

With Ethan supporting me, I limped into the nurse's office.

When the doctor rolled up my pant leg, he drew in a sharp breath.

"Miss, if you are experiencing bullying, you need to report it to the teachers immediately."

I had tried fighting back before.

But every single time, it only resulted in the school board interrogating and warning me.

"Chloe is Mr. Sinclair's daughter, why would she ever do something like this?"

Nobody believed me.

"Riley, don't be afraid. Who is bullying you?"

Ethan's voice rang out, laced with an encouraging, heroic tone.

In a blind spot where no one could see, I curled my lips into a cold sneer.

If I told him it was his pure, kind-hearted childhood sweetheart who burned me with a curling iron...

Would he still act this incredibly righteous?

Fairness was the biggest joke in the world.

I deliberately waited until my eyes were entirely red, tears brimming but refusing to fall, before looking up and whispering timidly.

"My foster father beat me. He lost money gambling and got into debt. He said paying for my tuition is a waste of cash. When he came back last time, he tried to steal my savings. I fought him off with everything I had, because that's my sister's life-saving medical fund."

"That's illegal, Riley. I can help..."

Even though he was deliberately approaching me, it still triggered Ethan's savior complex and desire to perform.

As the tears finally fell, Ethan reached out and gently wiped them away.

Perhaps the tears were too hot, because his hand flinched slightly.

"Thank you for today. It's in the past now. I believe I can work hard and give my sister a better life," I said, pretending to be optimistic.

A life so bleak, impoverished, and agonizing was clearly something this golden boy had never heard of.

Ethan's expression stiffened, and his gaze darted away from mine.

By this point in my past life, he already knew the truth that I was the biological Sinclair daughter.

Ethan, your heart ached at the thought of Chloe suffering if her identity was exposed.

So, what do you think of me nowthe girl whose entire life was stolen?

I wiped my tears, rolled down my pant leg, and limped out of the room.

It was a cloudy late afternoon, and a cold drizzle began to fall.

Anxious footsteps chased after me from behind.

"I'll drive you home. Wait right here for me."

With that, he turned to head toward the student parking garage.

I grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulled my only umbrella out of my bag, and handed it to him.

"Don't catch a cold."

Ethan froze for a second, took it, and jogged into the rain.

Watching his disappearing back, I pulled out my phone and immediately ordered an Uber.

In my past life, he abandoned me the second he received a phone call from Chloe.

I ended up soaking in the freezing rain for two hours and ran a high fever for days.

This time, I wasn't stupid enough to wait for him.

As my cab drove out of the school gates, I spotted Ethan's bright red sports car in the distance.

Rumor had it that he personally disliked such flashy colors.

But Chloe loved them.

As we passed by, he was leaning over the center console, carefully buckling Chloe's seatbelt.

I arrived at the lounge just in time for my shift.

After changing into my uniform dress, my phone rang.

On the other end, Ethan's voice had lost its usual calm composure.

"The rain is pouring. Where did you go?"

His tone was level, but there was an obvious undercurrent of anger.

It seemed Ethan had actually gone back to look for me.

I checked the time. Compared to the freezing rain I endured in my past life, this was nothing.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan. I didn't mean to. I just... I fainted, and a passerby brought me to the clinic."

As I spoke, my voice grew softer, interrupted by light, delicate coughs.

I sounded incredibly guilty and full of self-blame.

"You caught a cold? Which clinic are you at?"

His voice was suddenly tainted with genuine tension.

I had successfully plucked his heartstrings.

Ethan wanted to say more, but I quickly cut him off.

"I just finished my IV drip, my fever broke. It's nothing serious, I'm heading home now."

After hanging up, I put on my performance outfit and sat down at the piano.

They were short-staffed tonight, so after my set, the boss asked me to help deliver drinks.

Walking down the corridor, I spotted a familiar figure at the end of the hall.

Asher Sterling was smoking, exhaling clouds of gray mist.

As we brushed past each other, I kept my head down, blending into the crowd, and watched the ash drop from his fingers.

Asher spoke into his phone with a tone of absolute certainty:

"For a completely inexperienced country mouse like Riley, playing the pitiful card is the best way to trigger her sympathy."

"Ethan, you might be a genius at school, but when it comes to playing girls, leave it to me."

Is that so?

I couldn't wait to see who was playing who this time.

Ethan must have said something, because the call quickly ended.

In my past life, it was at the entrance of this very club where I found him blackout drunk.

In the sub-zero snowy weather, terrified he would freeze to death, I temporarily brought him back to my apartment.

But the next morning when he sobered up, with red eyes, he claimed his family went bankrupt and he was homeless.

My meager income was barely enough to keep me and my sister alive.

While I was hesitating, he cautiously tried to please me.

"Sister, I'll do the chores and cook for you while you're at work. Please don't kick me out, okay?"

I had ruffled his hair and agreed.

To feed him, I worked three jobs a day.

Once, when he ended up in the hospital from street racing, I sold the only bracelet my mother left me just to pay his medical bills.

It wasn't until right before I died that I realized my genuine, heartfelt sacrifices were nothing but cheap, pathetic desperation in Asher's eyes.

When my shift ended, I purposefully delayed clocking out for an hour, sipping a glass of warm mulled wine in the breakroom.

Feeling warm inside, I watched the clock hit exactly midnight, then stepped out the door.

Just like my past life, Asher was wearing a luxurious, custom-tailored suit, slumped "drunkenly" on the snow-covered steps.

The difference was, this time, shivering in the biting winter wind for an extra hour, Asher was genuinely freezing.

As I walked past him, a glimmer of calculation and anticipation lit up in his eyes.

But I pretended not to see him, pulled my puffer jacket tighter around myself, and walked straight toward the street.

Across the road, the crosswalk light turned green.

I counted down in my head.

Two... One.

Asher finally couldn't hold back anymore and called out to me.

"Sister."

A hand, entirely red from the freezing cold, grabbed the hem of my coat.

When I turned around, the boy blinked his dark eyes, looking up at me pitifully.

He had incredibly beautiful eyes, beautiful enough to bewitch anyone.

Too bad I had already seen the monster hiding behind them.

"Sister, I don't have anywhere to go."

I pulled out my phone and smiled calmly.

"Oh?"

"Do you need me to call the police for you, little boy?"

Asher clearly hadn't anticipated this reaction. He quickly lowered his head, hiding a flash of irritation.

In that moment, the dim yellow light from the streetlamp cast a glow over his dark hair.

He looked soft, obedient.

He spoke with a muffled, begging tone.

"No, please. I just escaped. If they send me back, my dad will beat me to death."

That part was actually true.

In my past life, after living with Asher, I vaguely learned about his horrific childhooda mother who went insane and committed suicide, an alcoholic, abusive father.

And the pampered little princess, Chloe Sinclair, was the only ray of light in Asher's dark, messed-up life.

He lived in hell, yet he swore to protect her happiness, ready to eradicate any trouble or threat in her path.

And I was that trouble.

"Sister, please take me home? I'll be so good."

After a long silence, meeting Asher's dark eyes, I reached out and patted the crown of his head, then pressed down hard on the bleeding cut on his forehead.

I pressed so hard that sweat broke out on Asher's face from the pain.

But what was this tiny bit of pain compared to what I had suffered?

Fine. This time, I was going to make Asher willingly drop to his knees for me.

And when I had enough fun, I would kick him aside like trash.

"Alright."

I finally relented.

"You're injured, you need medicine. Also, if you stay at my place, you have to pay rent and utilities," I added.

"Sister, I'll figure out a way to pay you back."

Asher smiled obediently, though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

He was probably mocking my impoverished, penny-pinching mindset in his head.

Of course I knew the young master didn't care about a few bucks.

For someone born into top-tier wealth like Asher, he was always surrounded by people. Whether it was genuine love or fake flattery, he had an endless supply of it.

So, against a rabid dog like him, blind, unconditional sacrifice was completely useless.

The thought of returning every single ounce of pain he inflicted on me...

It made my blood boil with sheer excitement.

I leaned in close, exhaling hot breath against his ear.

"How are you going to pay me back?"

Our noses almost touched, so close that I could see a flash of genuine panic in the boy's eyes.

The atmosphere instantly turned ambiguous. A flush of red quickly crawled up his ears and spread down his neck.

Finally, as if making a massive sacrifice, he looked at me.

"Sister, I..."

In my past life, after moving in with me, Asher had complained to his rich friends:

"An old hag. I've seriously had enough of her."

"She makes me sick."

The image of the man smoking, his face twisted in absolute disgust and mockery, was still vivid in my mind.

I smiled brightly and cut him off: "You can do the chores, then."

Since he was playing broke, he obviously couldn't drive his fleet of supercars.

In my past life, not wanting him to suffer in the cold, I spent a small fortune on a cab to bring him home in the snow.

This time, I chose to take the subway.

Walking into the chaotic subway station, a crack finally appeared in the young master's usually composed facade.

I completely ignored him and walked briskly ahead.

Asher had absolutely zero experience with public transportation. When I looked back, he was caught in a massive crowd of commuters, his brows furrowed tightly in disgust.

When he looked utterly miserable, I slowly walked over and held out my hand.

"Hold onto me. Don't get lost."

Asher's reflex was to snap in anger, but he forcefully swallowed it down, slipping back into his obedient puppy persona as he grabbed my hand tight.

"Don't leave me behind, Sister."

See? What Asher needed was never groveling. On the contrary, the more casual and dismissive you were, the more it triggered his competitive drive and desire to conquer. Being intrigued is the most important foundation for turning a stranger into someone intimate.

Since he wanted to play a game with me, I was going to be the one holding all the cards.

...