The Returned Heiress Who Never Fit In – Chapter One

The day Stella Dawson was born, the family maid threw her away—just so her own daughter, born on the same day, could have a better life. Eighteen years later, her family finally found her. But instead of guilt and compensation, all she found was a new kind of prison.

"You're gorgeous!"

Stella stood in front of the mirror, a pristine wedding gown hugging her slender waist. The voluminous skirt made her look like a fairytale princess, a stark contrast to the bitterness coiling in her gut.

The boutique manager, helping adjust the gown, couldn’t stop praising her. "Mr. Keene didn’t come with you? Men and women have different tastes when it comes to these things."

Stella offered a polite, practiced smile. "He’s busy with work. Couldn't get away."

The moment the words left her mouth, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the caller ID and picked up. "Tess?"

"Stella, I just saw Lillian with Ethan!"

The smile vanished from Stella’s face, buried under the weight of Tessa Miller’s words. Her gaze turned cold, and she shot a look at the boutique manager. The woman instantly understood, nodding before discreetly ushering the other employees out of the room.

Ethan Keene was her fiancé. Their wedding was in a week.

Just hearing Lillian Reed’s name sent a flicker of pure disgust through Stella. Lillian—the maid’s daughter. The girl who stole her parents at birth and now had the nerve to come after her fiancé.

Once the room was empty, Stella glanced at her manicured nails and asked casually, "Where did you see them?"

Tessa’s voice was a frantic whisper. "The hospital. The OB-GYN department."

Stella let out a cold chuckle. "Well, that's an interesting place." A man and a woman in the OB-GYN department. The implication hung in the air, thick and nauseating.

"Lillian's a two-faced manipulator, and Ethan's a bastard. Call off the wedding!" Tessa fumed, angrier than Stella herself.

Stella took a slow sip of water, a smirk playing on her lips. Every time Lillian pulls one of her stunts, Stella is the one who pays the price. Why was Tessa so mad?

Two years ago, Lillian had left the country of her own accord, claiming she had no right to stay now that the "real" daughter was back. And yet, here she was again, cozying up to Ethan right before the wedding.

Had Stella been too kind these past two years? Too forgiving?

"She came back right before your wedding," Tessa huffed. "What do you think that means? She’s up to no good."

Stella’s gaze darkened. "I'll call you later."

"What are you gonna do?" Tessa sounded alarmed.

"If someone’s selling a lie," Stella said, her voice like ice, "how could I not buy it?" She ended the call.

She turned to the mirror, looking at herself in the pristine white gown. Her fingers traced the delicate lace of the bodice. Then, with a sharp, decisive rip, the fabric tore apart in her hands. She tossed the shredded dress to the floor. The boutique employees, watching from a distance, gasped in shock, but none dared to say a word.

Just as she finished changing, her phone buzzed again. Ethan.

The moment she picked up, his voice came through, colder than a winter wind. "Once you’re done trying on the dress, come to the office."

For two years, Ethan had been nothing but gentle and considerate. And now? This sudden change. It could only be because Lillian was back.

A mocking smile flitted across Stella’s lips. She didn't bother replying—just hung up.

Half an hour later, Stella stepped into Ethan’s office. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathed in sunlight, his sharp features softened by the light. He looked a god among men, his face the most perfect in all of Rivermount.

He noticed Stella and abruptly ended his call. "Eat lunch by yourself. I’m hanging up." The warmth in his voice from the call was gone, replaced by an icy expression as he looked at her. "Come here."

Stella met his gaze. She walked over but didn’t sit beside him. She took a seat across from him, deliberately putting a distance between them. Ethan’s expression grew even colder.

With a click, he flicked open a lighter. The sharp scent of gasoline filled the air. Stella disliked the smell and waved a hand to clear it, but Ethan didn’t seem to care. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. "Lillian’s back."

A flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes, but it wasn't enough to stop the words that followed. "Our wedding... needs to be postponed."

Stella had expected this the moment Tessa called. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm. Lillian came back, so the wedding gets postponed?

Ethan exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "She’s sick. It’s serious." As he spoke, he pulled out an envelope. "Bradford University’s admission letter. You should go study abroad."

He said it like it was a favor, an order. Stella didn't take the envelope. She just let out a soft, mocking laugh. "You want me to leave? To make room for her?"

Ethan’s expression darkened. "Isn’t this the school you’ve always wanted to go to? Now—"

"Ethan." Stella cut him off, her voice like steel. She snatched the envelope and tore it to shreds right in front of him. The pieces fluttered to the floor like snowflakes. A single scrap stuck to her palm, and she flicked it straight at his face.

Whatever warmth was left in his eyes disappeared completely.

Stella didn’t bother softening her tone. "No need to postpone the wedding. Just cancel it."

Why delay the inevitable? Canceling was much easier.