The True Heiress Returns: The Whole Family Will Pay

"Crack..."

The sound of breaking bones was unnervingly clear.

Adeline Stuart lay face-down on the cold balcony tiles, pain screaming through her so loudly she couldn't make a sound. A stiletto heel ground into her right hand, the tip working back and forth across her knuckles. For a jewelry designer, that hand was finished.

She looked up from the shoe to Vivian Stuart's elegant gown.

"Don't blame me, Adeline." Vivian looked down, her voice cloyingly sweet. "The Stuart family can only have one genius designer. How can the brothers feel comfortable handing everything over to me while you're still around?"

Adeline's face was slick with blood. She forced her head up. Through the glass doors, her brothers Louis and Matthew Stuart stood with their backs to the balcony, chatting casually over drinks. Neither turned around.

Her vision swam. Then, on the balcony railing, a phone screen lit up. Adeline glanced at it instinctively—and a sharp pain exploded in her chest as Vivian's foot slammed into her.

Her body went weightless. She fell from the twenty-second floor, cold air rushing down her throat. The last thing she heard was Vivian's soft, triumphant laugh.

"Give your competition spot to Vivian."

A cold, low voice cut through. Adeline's eyes snapped open.

No blood. No crushing pain. No wind. She was sitting up in bed, her fingers clenched around the blanket. Her phone glowed on the nightstand. The date read: 47 days until Prestige Gem International. Ten months before her family would stand by and let Vivian torture her to death.

She'd been reborn.

"Did you hear me?"

Louis stood in the doorway, suited up, his voice impatient. The phantom pain in her crushed fingers still throbbed. Adeline stared at his face, her expression cold, none of the old eagerness to please.

She threw back the covers and stepped onto the floor barefoot, walking toward him.

"I heard you," she said, meeting his eyes. "No."

Louis's brow furrowed immediately. Something was off. For the past year, this sister they'd just brought back into the family had always been quiet and compliant, never daring to push back.

"Stop making a scene," Louis said. "This competition matters to the Stuart family's image. Vivian has more public recognition than you—"

"Recognition?" Adeline let out a cold laugh. "She switched from fashion design three months ago. She can't tell a star sapphire from a color-change garnet. You call that recognition?"

Louis's jaw tightened, his expression darkening.

"That's only because the family's resources haven't fully shifted to her yet," he said, quickly changing tack. "This is what Mom and Dad want—"

"Then tell them to come talk to me themselves."

Adeline was done wasting words. She turned, pulled open the wardrobe, grabbed a coat, shrugged it on, and tossed her documents into her bag.

Louis was thrown off by her bluntness. "The whole family's waiting for you downstairs. Don't pull this attitude." He left it at that and headed down.

Adeline zipped her bag. Last time, she had cried in this very room and given in, handing over her spot without a fight. In return, she'd gotten months of torment and a plunge into the night. This time, no one was taking anything from her.

She pushed open the door and headed down the spiral staircase.

The crystal chandelier cast a bright, even glow over the living room. Helen Boleyn sat in the center of the sofa. Robert Stuart read through documents. Matthew, Jason, and Gideon Stuart each settled into their own corners.

Vivian pressed close to Helen, cradling a mug of hot cocoa. When she saw Adeline come downstairs, she immediately put on a soft, helpless smile.

Adeline looked at her without expression.

"You finally came down," Helen said, noticing the bag in Adeline's hand. "What's that for?"

"Packing up. Clearing out." Adeline slipped her phone into her pocket. "And letting you all know—that competition spot is mine. I earned it. Nobody's taking it."

Helen set her cup down with a sharp clack. "Vivian is a much better fit to represent the Stuart family. Would it really hurt you to step aside?"

"A better fit?" Adeline tilted her head toward Vivian. "Then have her tell us right now—the competition theme is 'Timeless Prism.' What techniques are the judges focused on?"

The smile froze on Vivian's face. Her fingers tightened around the mug.

Silence.

Adeline didn't give her a chance to recover. "Dual-material inlay and optical path design. She doesn't even know the core fundamentals. You want to send her to an international competition to embarrass herself?"

Vivian's eyes went red almost instantly. She curled into Helen's arms, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry... I just thought I could try. If Adeline doesn't want to, I really won't push it."

Helen pulled her close and turned on Adeline. "Look what you've done to Vivian! She just wanted to enter a competition. Did you have to say all that?"

"Did I?" Adeline almost laughed, fury rising in her chest. The image of her fingers being crushed under a heel flashed through her mind. "If she wants to compete, she can earn her own spot. You want the whole family to pressure me into handing mine over, and you think that's reasonable?"

"She didn't pressure you!" Matthew slammed his phone onto the sofa cushion. "We just think you should be more generous. The Stuart family has supported you for a year, after all—"

"Generous?" Adeline stepped forward, pulled a bank card from her bag, and slapped it down on the coffee table. "That's the card you gave me when you brought me home. Not a cent touched."

She set down a folded statement beside it. "This is every expense I've had in this house over the past year. Eighty-seven thousand dollars. I transferred it all back, with interest."

Helen's face went rigid.

"As of today, I have no ties to the Stuart family." Adeline picked up her bag and swept her gaze across each of them. "Your precious daughter is all yours. Enjoy."

She turned and walked toward the front door.

"If you walk out that door, don't ever think about coming back!" Helen called after her.

Adeline didn't slow down. She gripped the handle, pushed it open, and stepped out into the night.

The moment the door shut behind her, she pressed pause on the voice recorder in her pocket.

Outside the estate gates on Wysteria Avenue, the night air bit through her thin coat. Her phone buzzed.

A text, from a name she'd had saved in her contacts for twelve years.

Lancelot Gray.

"Heard you had a falling out with your family. Take a breath. I'll come find you tonight."

Adeline stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the screen.

In her last life, in the final second before she died, she had clearly seen the notification that lit up Vivian's phone—

The sender was Lancelot.

The message was only a few words: [It's done.]