The lost heiress never forgiven

The Lost Heiress 100

Chapter 100 Debts of Blood and Betrayal

Sietta’s voice was calm, unnervingly so, as she spoke.

+ Pearis

“Every time my father lost money, he would come home and beat my mother. When I was little, I tried to protect her. I’d throw myself in front of her, thinking it I took the hits instead, she’d be spared”

She let out a small laugh, bitter and cold. “But she never once tried to protect me. If anything, she was relieved. Because if I was there to take the blows, she didn’t have to”

A suffocating silence filled the room. But Sierra was’t finished.

“Whenever I was beaten, she’d just hide in the room, peeking through the door. Then, once he was done, she’d come out and squeeze out a few useless tears. And the next time, She’d do it all over again, pushing me forward without hesitation.

Sierra’s words struck like a whip, each sentence lashing across the pride of the Xander family. Their faces twisted; their expressions frozen in horror

But Sierra continued.

“I nearly dropped out of high school because we couldn’t afford the tuition. I had to pick up trash with my grandmother just to scrape together enough money to study. At the time, I actually believed I had a future.”

curled into a mocking smile. “But then my father lost me in a

room grew suffocating. “He let me away to a man in his fifties. If Mr. Cameron hadn’t arrived. that day, I would’ve been

A chilling pause.

Not because he felt guilty, but because he realized he could have

head slightly, her gaze fixing itself onto Evan. Her smile was razor–sharp. “So, tell me, dear Mr. Evan, how exactly should I repay that kind of upbringing? Should

their faces grim, their pride

to reach out, to hold Sierra, but she

resentment. But that only made it worse; the pain was too deep. The betrayal had long since become part

to the Xanders? I’d

Sierra’s icy

talk about blood

in the air. No one spoke; not a single person

Sierra’s sharp eyes locked onto her. “Evan, instead of lecturing ine, shouldn’t you be focusing on your precious little sister? You hold such a high moral standard, so surely, your dear Denise wouldn’t dare shark her own responsibilities, right? After

into her palms; her breath uneven. I hate her. I hate

constant reminder, a reminder that Denise was nothing but

And I’m sorry; this is all my fault. I stole your place, mom

10:51 AM