the problematic heiress

Facing an office overflowing with piles of documents that needed her attention, Stella already felt sick. Just the sight of paperwork made her dizzy. She slumped in her chair, staring blankly at the mountain of files that seemed to multiply by the minute.

She groaned loudly. “Ugh! Why did Grandpa and Grandma make me the heiress?”

Her voice echoed through the room, dramatic and frustrated. “I just turned nineteen! Why do I have to deal with all this boring business stuff?” She pouted and clasped her hands together in mock prayer. “Grandpa, Grandma, why me? 😭 I want to be a kid too… huhuhu…”

Finally, in exaggerated despair, she collapsed face-first onto the stack of papers. For a moment, she considered staying like that forever—but reality wasn’t that kind. With a heavy sigh, she began to work, signing papers and reviewing contracts one by one.

Despite her complaints, Stella was no ordinary young woman. Ever since childhood, she had been exceptional—sharp-minded, quick-witted, and fiercely determined. She had inherited her grandparents’ company at the young age of fourteen and, by eighteen, had already eliminated all her corporate rivals.

Her mother, a respected police officer, and her father, a military general, had refused to help her during her most difficult time. Back then, Stella had broken her stepbrother’s arm—along with a few ribs—after he attempted to assault her. But her parents, blinded by their trust in her manipulative stepbrother, didn’t believe her.

That betrayal marked her forever. From that day on, she stood on her own feet, determined to prove she didn’t need anyone’s protection. Now, she wasn’t just a business heiress—she was also the powerful leader of the infamous phantom gang. And her parents had no idea.

Her stepbrother, Gerald Morgan, was four years older than her. To the outside world, he was the perfect son—handsome, polite, and charming. But Stella knew the monster behind that smile. Breaking his arm had been an act of self-defense, but it also became the turning point of her life.

Since then, she had chosen to live alone in the peaceful villa her grandparents had left her—alongside her cheerful younger sister, Loute.

The peaceful tapping of her pen was suddenly interrupted by the creak of the office door. Stella looked up, half-expecting another problem, but instead, a familiar voice rang out.

“Annie!!” Stella exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “It’s good to see you safe and sound! If something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Annie rushed forward and hugged her tightly. “It’s okay! The kidnapper guy was actually my type,” she giggled, causing Stella’s eyebrow to twitch.

Annie continued dramatically, “He said, ‘Young madam, I’m here to kidnap you. Please come—I even prepared your ticket to Bali for a short vacation!’ Ah! Can you believe it? He talked to me!”

Stella stared at her blankly, unamused. “Yeah… yay,” she muttered dryly, her expression deadpan. “Your not his type, Annie. Give it up already.”

“Wha—hey! That’s all you have to say? You’re so heartless, as always! No wonder you still don’t have a boyfriend!”

Stella smirked and leaned back in her chair. “I’d rather have peace than problems.”

Annie pouted, but Stella just waved her hand lazily. “Now, stop daydreaming and get to work. I need to sleep.”

“Unbelievable…” Annie sighed. “My boss, the heiress of chaos, wants a nap while the world burns.”

Stella just yawned. “Exactly.”

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