The Fake Heiress in My Bentley
426 Views · Ongoing · Agatha Christie
The housekeeper’s daughter just locked me out of my own Bentley.
"Bob, drive," Ella Brooks—the school's untouchable Queen Bee—ordered my chauffeur. She leaned into her boyfriend, Ryan Harrington, shooting me a look of fake pity. "My family already pays her tuition. Charity cases don't get free rides."
A bunch of kids nearby laughed, always eager to kiss up to the fake heiress. Ryan glared at me like I was actual trash. "Maya, if someone puts a roof over your head, show some respect. Know your place."
The tinted windows rolled up. Tires squealed, leaving me choking on exhaust.
I stood on the curb, watching my car speed off. She had hijacked my entire life to play school royalty and snag a wealthy guy, convincing everyone I was the freeloader.
I was so pissed I actually laughed. She mistook my low profile for weakness.
She wanted to play the billionaire's daughter? Fine. Playtime is officially over.
"Bob, drive," Ella Brooks—the school's untouchable Queen Bee—ordered my chauffeur. She leaned into her boyfriend, Ryan Harrington, shooting me a look of fake pity. "My family already pays her tuition. Charity cases don't get free rides."
A bunch of kids nearby laughed, always eager to kiss up to the fake heiress. Ryan glared at me like I was actual trash. "Maya, if someone puts a roof over your head, show some respect. Know your place."
The tinted windows rolled up. Tires squealed, leaving me choking on exhaust.
I stood on the curb, watching my car speed off. She had hijacked my entire life to play school royalty and snag a wealthy guy, convincing everyone I was the freeloader.
I was so pissed I actually laughed. She mistook my low profile for weakness.
She wanted to play the billionaire's daughter? Fine. Playtime is officially over.


















































