The Heiress's Axe: 20 Million to Ruin You

After my wealthy biological parents tracked me down, I found out the anonymous investor who had been sponsoring me for ten years was actually the fake heiress.

There was no cliché drama of the parents favoring the girl they’d raised. They practically threw her out on the street the second they had the chance. "Her?

She's always been a little off.

Being slow in school is one thing, but she insisted on throwing money at some sociopathic kid from juvie." "Taking up space that wasn't hers, embarrassing us all these years… Thank god you're our real daughter." Meeting their relieved gazes, I just gave a noncommittal hum.

Elara didn't scream or cry. She just gave me an apologetic nod, shouldered her backpack, and walked out the door.

A few days later, I mailed the debit card she used to sponsor me back to her. "You promised we'd meet up after graduation.

Don't flake." But after graduation, Elara went completely off the grid.

The only trace of her was the money hitting that debit card—drained down to the last cent, every single month. So, I decided to track her down myself.

Chapter 1 The local thug squatting at the edge of town went dead pale the second he spotted me. He spun on his heel and bolted like he’d just seen a ghost. Coward.

He probably still remembered the time I nearly caved half his skull in with a cinderblock. I ignored him, heading straight for the house from my memory.

The rundown dirt yard was gone. In its place stood a glaringly tacky threestory house. I blinked. Did my cheapskate adoptive parents hit the jackpot in just a year?

They’d had a shot at getting rich once before. That was when they tried to sell me to Vernon, the town's crippled bachelor, for twenty grand.

But I guess I was born with a mean streak. Right in front of them, I kicked Vernon so hard I ruptured his junk.

That stunt bought me two years in juvie, and cost them a massive payout. I couldn't help it. I'd been a bad seed since day one.

If my adoptive parents starved me, I snatched the food right off Declan's plate. If they slapped me, I smashed a bowl over Declan's head.

When Declan bawled and threatened to lock me in the shed to starve to death, I picked the lock at midnight and knocked out three of his teeth with an iron pipe.

So, when my biological parents rolled up in their luxury cars, those people didn’t even dare ask for a buyout. They practically threw a parade to ship me off.

I pushed the front gate open. A group of women sat in the brandnew courtyard, dealing cards.

My adoptive mother was dripping in flashy designer clothes, massive pearl earrings dangling from her lobes—a complete stranger to the woman in my memory.

The smile froze on her face the second she saw me. "Fallon? What are you doing back here?" My eyes locked onto the latest model smartphone sitting by her elbow on the table.

It was the exact phone I’d mailed to Elara so we could stay in touch.

She used to text back at first, right up until she went totally dark. "Where's Elara?" I asked, keeping my voice flat. "Is she hiding from me because she tanked her finals?" My adoptive mother’s eyes darted away.

Before she could answer, one of the middleaged women at the card table scoffed. "Finals?

That little tramp got expelled ages ago for throwing herself at men." My stomach dropped to the concrete.

The blood drained from my face, my fingernails digging sharp and deep into my palms. Chapter 2 My adoptive mother flinched under my stare. "She—she went off the rails on her own!

Sleeping around for a measly two hundred bucks. She chose that life, it has nothing to do with me!" She took a shaky step back. "Besides, you two swapped back.

Her mess isn't your problem anymore." I’d survived in this hellhole for seventeen years. I knew exactly how ruthless they were.

That was why I wired thirty grand into Elara's debit card every single month on the dot. Just to make sure they couldn't force her to drop out over cash.

A harsh laugh scraped up my throat. "I gave you too much credit.

I actually thought I beat some sense into you before I left." I took a deliberate step forward, locking eyes with her. "I'm going to ask you one last time. Where. Is.

Elara?" The color drained from her face. She blurted out, "Today is her big day! She's getting married over at Vernon's place.

They're probably consummating it right now." Vernon’s place was just down the road.

The trashfilled yard was packed with rubberneckers, reeking of cheap tobacco and echoing with raucous laughter.

Inside the main room, a frail figure drowned in a cheap, gaudy wedding dress was being forced to her knees. Someone was shoving her head down, slamming it into the floorboards.

Her left arm hung limp at her side, bent at a sickening angle. Through the sway of her red veil, I caught a glimpse of heavily bruised skin. Elara.

Funny enough, we first crossed paths when we were seven. My adoptive dad had just broken my leg.

I’d smuggled myself into the trunk of a passing car, planning to steal a jerrycan of gas in the city and come back to burn the whole family alive.

The driver found me and tossed me into the dirt. That was when I locked eyes with Elara, who just happened to be walking by. She looked a little slow.

I snatched the bread right out of her hands, and she didn't even make a peep. She just squatted there obediently, watching me inhale the food like a feral dog.

Once I licked my fingers clean, I told her that in exchange for the meal, I'd beat the hell out of anyone who ever messed with her.

She blinked. "Where do I find you?" I rattled off my name and address. Then, pausing, I added, "You better hurry up and find me.

If I starve to death, this meal goes to waste." Just in case she couldn't track me down, I postponed my arson plan for a year.

But six months later, some preppy guy in glasses showed up at my door, saying an anonymous donor wanted to cover my living expenses and tuition.

I’d coasted on that money all the way to the present. That same girl from my memory was now covered in bruises, pinned to the floor like a discarded ragdoll.

The violent rage I’d kept buried for years detonated. I scanned the yard. A heavy splitting axe leaned against the concrete wall.

I walked over, gripped the handle, and weighed it in my palm. Then, I swung. The steel blade bit through the center of the wooden banquet table. Crack! The wood split clean in two.

Peanuts, sunflower seeds, and cheap candies scattered across the dirt. The yard went dead silent. Everyone froze, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

Axe dangling from my grip, I grabbed the tacky red veil and ripped it off Elara’s head. Her face was swollen beyond recognition.

Her eye was a deep, mottled purple, her lip split and crusted with blood. She flinched hard, raising her vacant eyes.

Those eyes that used to be so clear were now clouded with pure, unfiltered terror. She stared at me for a long time.

Slowly, her pupils focused, a faint flicker of light piercing through the haze. Elara blinked, like she was afraid she was hallucinating. "Fallon. You came." "Yeah," I rasped.

Chapter 3 "Fallon, you again! It's my wedding day, and you dare trash my place?" Vernon recognized me.

His eyes were bloodshot as he lunged forward, but the guys next to him yanked him back. I finally placed his face.

It was the same crippled bachelor whose junk I’d completely wrecked years ago. The man holding him back shot me a wary look. "Don't do it.

This psycho actually swings to kill." He turned to me. "Look, Fallon, didn't you go back to the city to live the high life? Elara didn't even do anything to you.

Why are you crashing her wedding?" I ignored them. My gaze stayed locked on Elara, face deadpan. "Tell me.

Did someone force you into this?" Elara flinched, nodding before she could even stop herself.

Then, as if remembering something, she shook her head in a panic. "Just… leave me alone. Go back!

If Mom and Dad find out you came looking for me, they'll be furious with you." My biological parents despised Elara.

Maybe it was genetics, but she was a little slower than other kids and had a frustratingly passive temper.

Over the years, plenty of people in their elite circles had mocked them behind their backs because of her.

So, they explicitly forbade me from having any contact with her. "I couldn't care less if they're mad." My face went icecold as I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.

A respectful voice answered on the first ring. "Miss?" I stared down the faces gathered in the yard, letting the silence stretch before I spoke. "Send two vans of guys down here.

I'm dropping the pin now. Make sure they know how to throw a punch." I slipped off my trench coat and draped it over Elara's shoulders, burying that eyesore of a wedding dress.

Pulling a wooden chair to the center of the main room, I sat down. "Alright, let's talk." I swept my gaze across the terrified faces in the crowd. "Who hit her?

Who forced her to marry him?" "If nobody speaks up…" I picked up the axe and tossed it onto the concrete floor at my feet.

It hit with a heavy, metallic clang. "…I don't mind doing another stint in juvie." The yard went dead.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, swallowing their words like they were terrified of crossing someone else.

Suddenly, the thug who had bolted at the sight of me earlier poked his head through the crowd. "I know who beat her." I barely lifted my eyelids to look at him. "Nobody here wants to mess with her family," he hedged. "Give me two grand, and I'll risk it." A sharp scoff escaped my throat. "I'll give you twenty grand.

Talk." As if terrified I'd take the money back, the words spilled out of him. "It's your brother's untouchable crush, Harlow, the queen bee at school.

Her family runs a loanshark business, so everyone's terrified of her.

She was pissed that Elara was prettier than her and outscoring her on exams." Elara used to be a wealthy heiress, after all.

She had access to toptier tutors and carried an elegance that didn't belong in a dirty town like this. When she beat Harlow's score on their very first exam, all hell broke loose.

Harlow stood up in front of the entire school and accused Elara of sleeping with a teacher to get the answer key.

And the teacher actually backed her up, claiming Elara was the one who came onto him. Elara didn't even get a chance to defend herself before she was expelled.

But Harlow wasn't done playing with her. She claimed Vernon had paid her family protection money, and she was going to get payback for me ruining his junk years ago.

She gave Elara an ultimatum: either take my place and marry him, or Harlow would send her loanshark goons to break my legs. Elara was slow, but she wasn't entirely stupid.

She had managed to steal back her phone, ready to warn me. Chapter 4 It turned out Declan and my adoptive parents had caught her redhanded.

Looking to score points with Harlow, they beat Elara half to death and sold her to Vernon. Just like that. I absorbed every word of it with zero expression.

My gaze drifted down to Elara’s bloodless face.

Her fingers weakly curled into the hem of my shirt. "Just let it go," she whispered. "Harlow's family has been running loanshark rings for decades.

They play dirty, and they don't give a damn about going to prison. "Please, just go back to your family.

I… I'll figure out a way to escape on my own." A slow breath escaped my lungs. This idiot.

She probably still had no clue what the elite empire she'd grown up in actually did behind closed doors.

Back when some trustfund brat mocked me for being uncultured white trash, I spent three months laying a trap that bankrupted his entire bloodline.

My biological father hadn't scolded me. He’d been downright ecstatic. He respected the hustle.

Billiondollar dynasties like ours were built on a labyrinth of shady shell companies and graymarket operations. You needed a vicious streak to inherit that kind of throne.

A local loanshark outfit? They didn't even qualify as dirt on my family's shoes. "Wait." I tilted my head, studying her. "I mailed you a debit card.

Thirty grand a month, like clockwork. "If you got expelled, why didn't you just take the cash and come find me?" Elara blinked, completely blank.

Someone in the crowd barked a loud, gossipy laugh. "Well, Declan's mom, I was wondering how you hit the jackpot overnight!

Your boy’s out buying a condo and a flashy car in the city, and even bagged the queen bee.

Turns out Fallon was bankrolling your daughter, and you funneled every dime to your son!" My adoptive mother shot the woman a venomous glare for running her mouth.

She shifted her weight, refusing to meet my eyes. "I was just keeping it safe in a joint account! What does a young girl need all that cash for anyway?

Of course Declan's needs come first." She puffed out her chest defensively. "Look, Fallon, he's basically your brother too. Taking Harlow out on dates ain't cheap.

Getting married ain't cheap. A man needs real capital to build a life. "You get it, right?" My adoptive father chimed in from the back. "Exactly.

A girl’s just gonna marry out anyway. Giving her that kind of cash is basically handing it over to strangers." A short, breathy laugh slipped past my lips.

In a blur of motion, I hoisted the heavy steel axe and slammed it directly into the concrete an inch from their toes. Sparks flew.

They shrieked, scrambling backward like panicked rats. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to kill us?!" I yanked the axe free from the cracked cement.

My face was a mask of pure ice. "Pick up your phone.

Tell that pair of leeches to drag their asses back here. "Right now." The corner of my mouth ticked up into a dead, chilling smile. "Because I promise you, crushing you right now would be as easy as stepping on a roach." All the color drained from their faces.

Hands trembling, my adoptive mother fumbled for her phone and dialed. It didn't take long.

A shiny black Mercedes rolled up to the dirt courtyard, looking offensively out of place in this rundown dump. The crowd craned their necks, eyes practically bugging out with envy.

Harlow stepped out of the passenger seat first. She was draped in a tailored cream trench coat over a flowing designer dress.

A piece of glasslike, translucent jade circled her wrist. I recognized the fit immediately. It belonged to Elara. When Elara got kicked out, she left emptyhanded.

I spent three days boxing up her entire walkin closet—clothes, jewelry, accessories—and shipped it all down here.

My biological parents might not have loved her, but they definitely didn't cheap out on her wardrobe. Every single piece was a toptier luxury item worth tens of thousands.

And now, every last thread of it was paraded on Harlow’s body. Chapter 5 "What did you drag me out here for?" Harlow’s eyes landed on Elara’s bruised face.

Her lips curled into a blatant sneer. "Really, Elara? "You can't even get married without causing a scene?" She crossed her arms, acting like she was doing a charity case. "I'm doing you a favor.

Your reputation as a slut is already out there. Nobody but Vernon would even touch you now. "You don't still think you're some rich heiress, do you? You're back in the gutter.

Know your place." I lazily lifted my eyes. "Her place? And who the hell are you supposed to be?" Harlow’s gaze shifted to me. Her brows knitted together.

She didn’t recognize me. "Who the hell are you? "Mind your own business. She's a cheap tramp who throws herself at men. I was just giving her a push." "Is that so?" I stood up.

My boot connected squarely with her stomach in a brutal kick. Harlow shrieked, collapsing into the dirt. She clutched her stomach, glaring up at me in absolute shock. "You bitch!

You hit me? "Do you have any idea who I am?!" She looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel. Clearly, nobody had ever laid a finger on the local princess before.

She had no idea how lucky she was. A few years ago, back when my temper was completely feral, it wouldn't have just been a kick. That axe would be buried in her chest right now.

I stared her down, my voice dead flat. "I don't give a damn who you are." I took a slow step toward her. "I'm settling every single score today.

Now, are you going to strip those clothes off yourself, or am I doing it for you?" "Fallon, are you out of your damn mind?" Declan stepped out of the driver's seat.

The blood rushed from his face as he took in the scene. "I gave those clothes to Harlow!

Elara ruined Harlow's outfit before, so she owed her compensation." He pointed a rigid finger at me. "She didn't even say anything about it, so who the hell gave you the right to bite like a rabid dog?" He shot Elara a venomous, threatening glare. "Tell her.

You volunteered, didn't you?" Elara flinched, her body shaking on instinct. I squeezed her hand, anchoring her.

Slowly, the haze in her eyes cleared, replaced by a spark of defiance. "No. I never ruined her clothes.

She just wanted my things, so she framed me." Declan’s eyes went dead and vicious. "Uncharitable little snake.

You really think Fallon has your back?" He scoffed, looking at me. "So what if her real family is loaded? City money doesn't mean shit out here in the trenches.

Nobody can save you in my town." Tires crunched loudly on the gravel as another car skidded to a halt at the gate.

Four or five thugs piled out, gripping baseball bats and iron pipes. They locked their eyes on me like starving wolves. Declan's backup had arrived.

Harlow pushed herself up from the dirt, clutching her stomach. Her eyes were pure poison. "Both of you.

Get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness right now, or my guys are shattering your kneecaps." Seeing the hired muscle, my adoptive parents instantly found their spines. "Look, we're cutting you a deal since you used to be our kid," my adoptive father sneered. "Get on your knees, grovel to Harlow, and wire us a few million in damages.

Then we can sweep this under the rug." "Get on your knees!" someone in the crowd yelled.

The onlookers’ initial terror had completely evaporated, replaced by malicious, gloating smirks. I looked at the goons swinging their bats.

I looked at the arrogant, smug grins plastering Harlow and Declan’s faces. It was genuinely hilarious.

The corner of my mouth ticked up. "Shatter my kneecaps?" I let out a low, icy laugh. "I'd love to see you try." Chapter 6 The words barely left my mouth before the screech of braking tires echoed outside the gate.

A sea of bodies flooded in, instantly packing the already cramped dirt yard to the brim.

Dozens of heavily built bodyguards in uniform black suits moved in total silence, forming a secondary perimeter that boxed everyone inside.

The suffocating weight of their presence crushed the air out of the space. Harlow's hired muscle, who had been swaggering a second ago, exchanged nervous glances.

A few of them even tried to edge toward the back wall. Total dead silence fell over the yard. The smug grins died on Declan and Harlow's faces.

My adoptive parents lost all color, shrinking back behind the crowd.

The head of security stepped up to my side and dipped his head in a crisp bow. "Miss." I tilted my chin up. "Now, can we finally have a civil conversation?

Since everyone's here, let's settle the tab." "Item one. I wired thirty grand to that debit card every month for ten months. That's three hundred thousand." "Item two.

The designer clothes and jewelry I shipped to Elara.

At retail value, that's roughly five million." "Item three." My gaze shifted to the heavy bruising on Elara's face. "Pain and suffering, medical bills.

She was easily pulling a 1500 on her SAT practice tests until you animals derailed her future. "Let's value her potential at ten grand a point.

That's fifteen million." "Add it all up, and I'll even waive the loose change. Twenty million total.

Not too unreasonable, right?" My adoptive parents looked like they were going to vomit.

I paused, letting the silence stretch. "If you can't cough it up, I'll carve up your entire family—Harlow included—and sell you off for parts to cover the debt.

You know I don't make empty threats." Harlow shook as she scrambled backward. The arrogance vanished from her face. They were used to terrorizing people in this dirtpoor town.

But I was a certified psycho. I didn't give a damn about the law back when I was a nobody with nothing to lose, let alone now, with my family's billions backing my play.

She knew she had messed with the wrong bloodline. Declan stared at me in sheer disbelief. "Twenty million?

Are you out of your damn mind?" He pointed a shaky finger at me. "That stuff belonged to Elara! She's part of our family!

She handed it over voluntarily—what gives you the right to demand it back?" My adoptive mother aggressively nodded along. "Exactly! I nearly died giving birth to her!

She hasn't paid us back a dime for raising her all these years. "That money is what she owes us!" A laugh actually scraped up my throat at the sheer, unfiltered audacity.

I didn't even have to give the order. The bodyguards stepped forward, cleanly and efficiently pinning them. Harlow let out a piercing shriek.

Declan tried to lunge forward, but a bodyguard drove a heavy boot into the back of his knee. He slammed into the dirt with a heavy thud, forced onto his knees.

The deed to the house. Bank cards. Car keys. They watched, completely helpless, as the bodyguards stripped them of everything they considered their lifeblood.

The blood drained out of my adoptive mother's face. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she dropped into the dirt in a dead faint. Right then, a muffled thud sounded behind me.

Elara, who had been completely silent this whole time, finally hit her physical limit. She collapsed onto the concrete. The color vanished from my face.

I dropped to my knees, catching her shoulders. Her forehead was burning up against my palm. I’d almost forgotten—she was covered headtotoe in untreated wounds.

The shock and the grime had already set in. She had been running on pure fumes this entire time. I forced the feral, violent rage clawing at my chest back down into the dark.

I stood up, looking down at the pale, pathetic faces scattered in the dirt. "Consider yourselves lucky. You have three days.

If you're a single cent short, I'm going to ruin you." The second we got Elara to the hospital, the doctors rushed her in for a fullbody workup. The results were a bloodbath.

A fractured arm. Multiple severe softtissue contusions spanning her ribs and back. On top of all that, in just a single year, she had developed severe, ulcerated stomach issues.

Chapter 7 I stared blankly at the stack of medical reports until a doctor snatched them right out of my hands. His face was dead serious. "Elara's physical condition is stable.

It's your psychological state that's hitting critical mass." He held the files against his chest. "Aren't you afraid your father will find out and lock you in a psych ward?" I looked at the doctor—a guy who had known me for the better part of a year—and didn't even blink. "I'm taking my meds.

But what happened today?

Those people were begging for a death wish." "The fact that I didn't slaughter them in that yard means I'm making progress." He opened his mouth to argue, but I just waved him off. "Relax.

I'll handle it." The doctor just let out a heavy, helpless sigh as I turned my back on him. I've known for a long time that my brain is fundamentally wired wrong. Impulsive.

Extreme. Prone to calculated violence.

If it hadn't been for that anonymous money hitting my debit card every year, complete with those nagging little transfer notes telling me to stay in school… I’d either be rotting in a federal prison or burning in hell right now.

When I pushed open the door to the private suite, Elara was already awake. She was propped up against the pillows, her face drained of color.

Seeing me, she forced the corners of her mouth into a weak, fragile smile. "Fallon." I walked over, gently pulling the heavy, warm blanket up to her shoulders. "Just rest.

You never have to go back to that hellhole ever again." I poured her a glass of warm water. "I'll get you enrolled in a new private school.

Or, if you want a fresh start, I can send you abroad. Whatever you want." She just looked at me quietly, a thick layer of moisture gathering in her eyes.

It took her a long time to finally whisper, "Fallon… why are you being so good to me? I'm the one who stole your perfect life.

I'm so glad my sponsorship helped you back then. "But if it weren't for me taking your place, you wouldn't have suffered through any of that nightmare." She dropped her gaze to her lap, her fingers twisting the bedsheets. "Just stop looking out for me.

This was always supposed to be my fate.

Letting you suffer through seventeen years of it in my place… taking this beating is my way of paying off that debt." "Drop the guilt trip." A soft scoff escaped my lips.

I sat down on the edge of the mattress, grabbing an apple and a paring knife from the nightstand. "There's a long list of people who owe me, and they're still out there breathing without an ounce of shame. "You're nowhere near the top of the list to pay penance." I handed her the cleanly peeled apple. "Honestly, I never wanted you to go back there in the first place.

You're too soft. I knew they’d chew you up and spit you out." "But I had just gotten back.

I hadn't secured my footing in the family empire yet, so I had to play it quiet and keep my head down." "I just didn't expect them to tear you apart this badly." Hearing my exasperated scolding, Elara actually managed a genuine, bright smile. "Thank you, Fallon." I stayed at the hospital with Elara for three straight days.

On the third day, before I even had the chance to go hunt those rats down, my assistant practically tripped through the door. "Miss, we have a massive problem!" He gasped for breath. "Your adoptive parents are running a live stream.

They're going viral, accusing you of being an ungrateful monster and abusing your power." I snatched the iPad out of his trembling hands.

On the screen, my adoptive parents were putting on an Oscarworthy performance, sobbing hysterically to the camera. "We worked our fingers to the bone to raise her!

We fed her, clothed her, sent her to school!

But the second she crawled back to her billionaire real parents, she completely cut us off!" My adoptive mother wiped fake tears from her eyes. "Then she brought an army of thugs to trash our house!

She ruined our daughter's beautiful wedding and demanded twenty million in extortion!

She's trying to drive us to our graves!" Declan appeared on screen, clenching his fists in fake righteous anger. "My former sister… she's a diagnosed sociopath.

Growing up, I can't even count how many innocent people she hospitalized." He stared directly into the lens. "Now that she has all this money and power, I'm genuinely terrified.

If she snaps and murders someone tomorrow, nobody will be able to touch her." Chapter 8