The Billionaire's Reluctant Heiress

Chapter 4

Liana's POV

Back as kids, we were told that monsters sleep in the shadows… anywhere darkness was.

That would probably be one of the biggest lies I was told as a kid.

Monsters slept in mansions, palaces made of old money, secrets, and the kind of silence that can choke you. And as the gates of the Blackwell Estate creaked open, I knew I was walking straight into their den.

I sat rigid, my fingers still twitching from the shock of the fire.

“Home sweet home,” Aiden said without looking at me.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

Home? No. This wasn’t a home. This was a graveyard. A magnificent graveyard built on the blood of innocent people.

The car finally stopped in front of the manor.

I stepped out and lifted my head.

Fake it, Liana. I thought to myself.

Pretend this place doesn’t terrify you.

Pretend you weren’t dragged here after watching your life go up in smoke.

Aiden’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You’ll sign the inheritance papers inside. You’ll do what the will demands.”

“This place is disgusting,” I muttered under my breath, ignoring his comment.

Aiden walked ahead, his posture stiff, every step echoing through the marble halls like a countdown to something I wasn’t ready for.

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be impressed. Or terrified.

Probably both.

“Who exactly lives here now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level. “I thought the old man died.”

Aiden glanced back at me with a faint smirk. “He did.”

“Then who am I supposed to meet?” I asked, brow raised.

He paused. “His wife.”

I stopped walking.

“…His what?”

He turned fully this time. “His widow. Isabella Blackwell.”

The name tasted sour even before I said it. “You’re telling me he got married again? While my mother was rotting in a hospital bed, he was off playing house with someone else?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Aiden said, but I didn’t let him finish.

“No,” I snapped. “It’s not complicated at all. It’s exactly what I’d expect from him.”

My chest burned. He remarried. Without telling me. Without a single word. My mother had spent the last four years begging for treatment while I sold everything I owned to pay her hospital bills. And he was here, tossing wedding rings around like they meant nothing.

“I want to see her,” I said, my voice low.

Aiden didn’t argue. He simply nodded, turned, and led me down a different hall, one that felt warmer, richer, and more private.

As we approached a room, something felt off.

Low, breathy laughter filtered through the door. Then a moan.

Aiden stopped, suddenly uneasy. “Wait, perhaps I should announce…”

But I was already pushing the door open.

And there she was.

Isabella Blackwell.

She laid on the bed with a man on top of her.

“C'mon baby, f**k me harder.” Isabella moaned, clawing at the man's back.

The man increased his speed, Isabella moans grew louder.

BANG!!!

Both froze and turned in my direction.

My hand still on the door, I had hit earlier. How dare she? I knew my dad wasn't a good man but having s*x with another man, not so long after he died?

“Aiden, who is this slut that you've brought to my chambers?” Isabella demanded, covering her naked body with the duvet.

Aiden stepped in, keeping a straight face. “Liana Blackwell, the soon-to-be patriarch of the Blackwell family and enterprise.”

The man beside her scrambled, half-naked, eyes wide with panic. But Isabella didn’t flinch.

She just propped herself up, reached for a silk robe, and looked me dead in the eye.

“So,” she said, tying the sash slowly, “this is the girl who inherited what was meant to be mine.”

I blinked.

“You’re his wife?”

Her smile sharpened. “Was. And unfortunately he left everything to you, sweetheart. Isn’t that just adorable?”

A hot wave of fury ripped through me. “You married him… and you’re already in bed with someone else?”

“I’m not grieving,” she said coolly, stepping toward me. “Your father and I had an understanding. But you? You’re just the illegitimate little secret he kept buried like a shameful tattoo.”

I clenched my fists. “You know nothing about me.”

“Well I know you're going to be our patriarch and I find it so funny,” She leaned close, her perfume choking me. “Welcome to the Blackwell Estate, Liana. Let’s see how long you survive.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You’re disgusting,” I spat. “You were his wife. The least you could do was pretend to mourn.”

Isabella turned her back to me like I was nothing more than a breeze passing through. “Grief is for fools who believe in love,” she said, sauntering back to the bed. “Your father didn’t marry me for my heart, darling. And I didn’t marry him for his.”

“You think I care what you were to him?” I snapped, stepping forward. “He was a monster. And you're just a leech that crawled into his bed and waited for him to die.”

She didn’t even blink. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to get better at this whole confrontation thing if you plan on surviving in this house. Drama only works if you're in control of the room.” She turned to the man still standing awkwardly by the bed. “What are you waiting for?”

He hesitated, glancing between us, clearly unsure.

“Let’s get back to f*****g,” she said, voice sharp now. “She’ll get used to it.”

My stomach twisted. “You’re seriously going to…”