They Raised a Real Heiress to Be a MonsterChapter 1

I was born lucky. A psychic told my adoptive parents my fate was tied to great wealth, so at three, I was taken from the orphanage and delivered to the Hendrie family.

Back then, the Hendries were just entering high society. They treated me as their lucky charm, spoiling me endlessly—and over the next fifteen years, their fortune soared, making them one of New York’s most powerful families.

Raised as their charm, I grew fearless and sharp-tongued, with a famously bad attitude.

Then my biological parents, the Vances, found me. They were minorly rich compared to the Hendries, but hey—free inheritance. I reluctantly agreed to visit.

But when I arrived, no one greeted me. The whole family was crowded around a crying girl—the one who’d taken my place.

“Stella, don’t cry,” her mother soothed. “No one can replace you. You’ll always be our most precious daughter.”

I rolled my eyes. “God, this is annoying. That whining is worse than nails on a chalkboard.”

* * *

My words fell into a sudden, dead silence. Every head whipped around to stare at me in disbelief.

My biological parents, Mr. and Mrs. Vance, frowned in disapproval, their expressions screaming, This is what you get from the lower classes. No manners.

My supposed older brother, Ethan, stormed over to me, his finger jabbing at my face. “Who do you think you are, talking to Stella like that?” he snarled. “Did your dirt-poor family not teach you any respect?”

Ha.

Dirt-poor?

The Hendries could buy and sell the Vances’ entire pathetic fortune in the time it takes to make a phone call. But I couldn't be bothered to explain that to these people. I let out a cold, dismissive laugh.

“No respect? I wonder why that is,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s because she stole the family that was supposed to teach me.”

I pointed a finger at Stella. “And the little thief has the audacity to stand there crying? What is this, the classic ‘villain plays the victim’ routine?”

Ethan’s bravado crumbled. He was clearly out of his league. His face turned beet red as he stammered, “You! You! You…”

I cut him off, bored. “Spit it out. If you have a stutter, go see a doctor. If you’re just stupid, try reading a book. Either way, stop wasting my time.”

Defeated, Ethan could only stand there, seething and breathless, his face a mottled purple.

Right on cue, Stella drifted over, her face a perfect mask of wronged innocence. “I’m so sorry, sister,” she whispered, her eyes welling up. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who stole your life. You have every right to be angry. Please, don’t blame Mom, Dad, or Ethan. Take it all out on me.”

Ugh. The classic damsel-in-distress act. Zero originality.

I had no intention of playing along with her little performance. I stood up straight. “Look, I’m tired. Just have someone show me to my room. You all can continue your little melodrama without me. I don’t have time for this.”

Mr. Vance let out an indignant huff, but he still motioned for the butler to show me to a room.

The butler gave me a tour. Before I could even say a word, Stella started her act again.

“Sister, you should take my room,” she declared, pushing her bedroom door open with a grand, magnanimous gesture. “It should have been yours all along.”

The moment the door opened, Ethan had another fit. He lunged forward to block the entrance, his face etched with pain as he looked at Stella.

“Stella, don’t do this to yourself,” he pleaded. “She’s a charity case from the sticks. A storage closet would be too good for her. She has no right to take your room!”

Mrs. Vance, to her credit, had a sliver of conscience left. She shot Ethan a soft glare before turning to me. “Selene, you can choose any of the other rooms in the house,” she said gently. “But Stella is used to this one. Please don’t fight her for it, alright?”

I was honestly speechless. Had I said a single word about wanting Stella’s room? Why was everyone acting like I was the villain here?

Was this room really that special?

My gaze drifted past Ethan’s obstructive frame to peek inside.

Two words came to mind: That’s it?

My dog Lucas’s room back at the Hendrie estate was bigger than this.

I rolled my eyes and walked away, pointing to a much larger room down the hall with better light and a better view. “I’ll take this one.”

Ethan stared at me, his voice cracking. “Are you insane? That’s Mom and Dad’s room!”

I strolled in anyway, then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Vance with a bright smile. “Mother just said I could pick any room as long as it wasn’t Stella’s. You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?”

Mrs. Vance was clearly flustered, but she eventually nodded.

“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

With that, I slammed the door shut, leaving the entire dumbfounded Vance family standing in the hallway.