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The Heiress's Comeback

Being adored by one's parents and hoping to achieve something that could bring them happiness, a child sacrificed their carefree personality and chose the path of books and knowledge at an early age. Without looking back to see how those they thought were their parents were, in truth, only pushing them from behind. Esme, a prodigy from an early age, excelled in everything, unlike her sister, who, though adored by both parents, always lagged behind. Finally, after saving the company from debts and restoring it to its former glory, Esme looked back at her parents in hope of recognition but... "You are not even my daughter, you pathetic fool." "Hehe, Sister, how about I take your fiancé?" "Um, you see, Esme, I love your sister." "Tch, insect, how dare you reject checks whenever I, your mother, asked for money!" Those words lingered in Esme's mind before she lost consciousness and woke up inside a prison. "What are you doing here, Aron?" Esme looked at a handsome young man seated in a wheelchair, gazing at her with amusement. He was her sole business competitor, and now, he was visiting her in prison. "Nothing, just came here for a proposal, Miss Esme..." Let's see what awaits the journey of an heiress who was wrongly accused of being fake, betrayed by her fiancé, and had to seek support from her business rivals.

K1ERA · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
355 Chs

[ Volume 1] Chaper 302- its your work

Aron slammed his hand on the table, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. "That's it! I resign!"

Esme barely flinched. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, a serene smile spreading across her lips like she had been waiting for this very moment. "Oh?" she said, her tone as sharp as glass. "Very well then. If you're so eager to leave…"

She reached to the side, picking up a thick, ominous-looking file and setting it on the table with a heavy thud. "But before you go, let's settle your… debts, shall we?"

Aron's brows knitted in confusion, his indignation simmering just below the surface. "What debts?"

Esme flipped open the file, running her finger down the pages. "Let's start small, shall we? Fifty million for the car you obliterated on the racetrack six months ago. Remember that? Oh, and five million for the bike you burned to ash because the color didn't match your aesthetic."

Aron's eyes twitched.