Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase

Inside Wront Prison, the July heat hung so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

Just as she let her sleeve drop to cover the glaring scar on her arm, Maia Watson - once known as Maia Morgan - heard a correctional officer call out, "Maia, someone from the Morgan family is here to pick you up!"

Her hand froze midway through the motion.

Hearing "Morgan family" again was like tasting something bitter and familiar all at once.

She had once been the daughter of the Morgan family.

Everything fell apart four years ago, when the police knocked on their door and announced they'd tracked down Richard Morgan and Sandra Morgan's real daughter - Rosanna Morgan.

In the blink of an eye, Maia's identity was ripped away. She was branded a fraud, a fake.

Her real parents had died long ago. To keep up appearances, the Morgans made a show of acceptance. They told the world that they still saw Maia as family.

But anyone who had watched them for seventeen years would know better. Richard and Sandra had always been preoccupied with business ventures. Maia had been more like a guest in their home than a daughter.

Then Rosanna came back, and suddenly, their entire world revolved around her.

Then came the incident with Radiant Jewels. Rosanna stole a prized treasure and pinned the blame on Maia. It was an obvious setup, but the Morgans didn't care. They believed Rosanna without question. In fact, they helped her. They made public accusations and did it with such ease that Maia never stood a chance.

Radiant Jewels belonged to the Cooper Group. The Coopers weren't just powerful. In Wront, they were practically royalty. The Morgans couldn't risk offending them - not for someone who wasn't even their real daughter.

They erased Maia's name from the Morgan family, told the public that she was taken in from a struggling family called the Watsons, and sent her straight to prison.

At the memory, Maia's knuckles tightened until her nails bit into her skin.

She had survived four years behind bars for a crime Rosanna committed.

And now, that sentence was over. She was finally getting out.

...

Just beyond the prison gates, the crowd of reporters buzzed with restless energy.

Heat rippled through the air, and impatience showed on every face.

Then, at last, the massive gates creaked open.

Maia walked out into the sunlight, dressed in the same plain outfit she wore the day she was locked away.

The second Sandra caught sight of Maia, her face lit up like she had just spotted a long-lost child. She rushed over, surrounded by a swarm of reporters waving microphones and flashing cameras.

Maia watched the entire spectacle and nearly rolled her eyes.

"Maia, my dear daughter, I came to bring you home," Sandra said, her voice catching as tears shimmered in her eyes.

Even a few of the reporters nearby couldn't help but murmur in sympathy at the emotional performance.

Unfazed, Maia stared her down and said coldly, "You must be mistaken, Mrs. Morgan. I'm not your daughter."

Sandra stiffened where she stood.

She quickly recovered and painted sorrow across her face. "How could you say that, Maia? I was the one who raised you. You lived under my roof for more than ten years. I've never once stopped thinking of you as my daughter."

Maia's lips twitched into a cold smirk. "Is that right? Then remind me - four years ago, when you framed me and cast me out, didn't you call me a Watson? You let me go to prison without a second thought. I stopped being your daughter the day you erased me from your family."

Framed? To top it off, they said she wasn't even a Morgan - she was a Watson?

Maia's few words hit like a bomb. Reporters traded stunned looks, then chaos broke loose as they rushed forward, shoving microphones closer, eager to catch every word.

With cameras pointed her way, Sandra had no room to lash out. Her face tightened, but she forced down the anger bubbling inside.

Right then, a voice sliced through the commotion. "Maia! What kind of lies are you feeding everyone? The treasure from Radiant Jewels was found right in your bag - you were caught red-handed! How dare you claim you were framed? You spent four years behind bars, and we still dragged ourselves through this heat to pick you up. And this is how you thank us? You sound like someone spitting at the hand that once fed you!"

Jarrod Morgan was the one speaking - the oldest son of Sandra and Richard.

Maia had always thought of him as a big brother. But when the truth was twisted against her, he turned on her without hesitation to defend Rosanna, even going as far as shoving her to the floor.

She had landed hard. Her arm struck the sharp corner of a table, ripping her skin open and leaving behind a scar that never truly faded.

That infamous jewel? Rosanna had slipped it into Maia's bag while she was washing her hands in the restroom.

At the time, Maia had genuinely believed that Rosanna meant well. She had seemed warm, honest, and eager to be friends.

That was why, when Rosanna offered to help, Maia handed her the bag without a second guess.

The thought that someone so soft-spoken and sweet could harbor such petty cruelty had never crossed Maia's mind.

The reason behind it was that she saw Maia as a threat. Afraid that Maia might become more beloved in the Morgan family, Rosanna decided to eliminate her.

That was the day Maia's eyes were opened to the truth about the Morgan family.

Since then, her heart had been hardened by betrayal.

"She must still be upset with me. That's why she's twisting everything..." Rosanna clung to Jarrod, her voice trembling as her lashes fluttered through misty eyes. "Maia, I swear I never came back to steal your place in the family. Please don't hate me for this."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as her slender frame shook.

Jarrod couldn't stand to see her cry. He pulled her close and said, "This isn't on you, Rosanna. Maia stole a life that was rightfully yours for seventeen years. She's the one who did wrong. If she can't admit it, then maybe more time behind bars will teach her."

"That's enough!" Sandra gave him a sharp look, flicking her eyes toward the hovering press.

With this many cameras rolling, she couldn't afford to lose control.

Facing the press, she quickly put on a diplomatic smile. "It's been four years since Maia lived with us. She's clearly still adjusting, and I can understand her emotions. If she can acknowledge her mistakes and show some changes, she'll always be part of my family."

Part of her family?

Maia let out a laugh that was anything but amused. She arched a brow and looked her dead in the eye. "Mrs. Morgan, didn't you sign off on the paperwork that cut all ties between us? Is that it? You're saying you actually want me back in your family now?"

Sandra's face darkened instantly.

Back then, in order to cut off any connection with Maia, the Morgans had forced her to sign a severance document - with a representative from the Cooper Group as witness, just to clear their name from any future accusations.

It had been an act of desperation, not dignity.

A swarm of reporters rushed in, shoving microphones toward Sandra. "Mrs. Morgan, is this true? You once said you wouldn't abandon Maia, that she was still your daughter even after reuniting with your biological child."

Trying to keep her composure, Sandra mustered a smile that barely held. "That's... not true. Of course not."

With a sly grin, Maia said, "So, Mrs. Morgan, do you have the nerve to call someone from the Cooper Group and find out if that severance document exists or not?"

"Maia, don't go too far! The people from the Cooper Group aren't someone we can just summon at will!" Jarrod shouted, his anger flaring from the sidelines.

With a smug tilt of her brow, Maia glanced his way. "So you're admitting you won't call them."

Jarrod was left speechless.

The image they had worked so hard to maintain was starting to fall apart, and Sandra scrambled to play the sympathy card. Her body shook with a sudden cough, loud and dramatic.

Catching on quickly, Rosanna hurried to her mother's side and rubbed her back in gentle circles. "Mom, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Her gaze then shifted to Maia, filled with exaggerated grievance. "She's been worried sick ever since you were locked up. She cries every night, Maia. The doctor warned us that her health is getting worse. And if you still care - even a little - for everything she did for you growing up, don't make this harder. Just come back with us."

Maia felt nauseated by Rosanna's pretentious act.

Come back with them? Those words used to bring comfort to her. But now, they meant nothing anymore.

The last thing she wanted was to get caught up with them again.

There was no mistaking the resolve etched across her face. "That girl you all knew - she died four years ago. And the Morgans were the ones who buried her."

Maia said her piece, then strode through the crowd and walked away without looking back.

The moment she was gone, Sandra dropped to the ground, putting on a show of sobs like her heart had just shattered.

She took a dramatic, deep breath before collapsing in a faint.

Panic erupted instantly as gasps and shouts filled the scene.

Wasting no time, Jarrod lifted Sandra into his arms, while Rosanna trailed right behind him.

The second the car doors shut and the cameras were behind them, Sandra's eyes snapped open, and she straightened up without effort.

Had she not faked that collapse, everything might've unraveled beyond repair.

This whole mess, in her mind, traced back to one person - Maia.

They had shown up at the prison, making a public effort to welcome her back with grace. And how did she respond? By dragging the entire Morgan name through the dirt in front of a crowd.

There wasn't a single ounce of gratitude in that girl.

"She's outrageous! We gave her everything and she turns on us like this!" Jarrod cursed angrily, gripping the steering wheel.

The warmth in Sandra's face vanished, replaced by a sudden chill in her eyes.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "No money. A criminal record that sticks to her like glue. She's got nothing to her name. Without us, she's done. There's no doubt Maia will return - and when she does, I'll have more than enough ways to handle her!"

...

Later that afternoon, Maia stood alone in front of City Hall in Wront, with some documents required for marriage registration in her handbag.

There was still time before her appointment, so she leaned casually against a tree, eyes downcast, thoughts drifting far from the present.

Back when she first stepped into prison four years ago, the torment seemed relentless, etched into every corner of her memory.

One night, when she was nearly beaten within an inch of her life, someone had stepped in to save her.

It wasn't a guard. It was a woman - an inmate with more influence than anyone else. Her cell looked more like a private suite, and even the correctional officers stayed out of her way.

Most inmates feared her and kept far out of her path.

But for some reason, she had taken an interest in Maia. She offered protection - but it came with a condition. If Maia wanted that safety, she had to accept a marriage agreement and carry out a task afterward.

Back then, trapped in a nightmare with no way out, Maia had no room to refuse. Survival meant sacrifice.

Without hesitation, she agreed to the deal and pledged her loyalty to the woman who'd saved her.

Fulfilling that promise had become her top priority now that she was free. That meant going through with the marriage agreement she'd accepted in prison.

Not far away, a stretch Rolls-Royce Phantom was parked in the shadows.

"Is that the one your aunt picked for you to marry, sir?" asked Brad Curtis, Chris Cooper's special assistant.

The view through the car window revealed a woman with lowered eyes and a slim frame.

Dressed in a plain white shirt and low-rise jeans, she moved with ease. When she stretched, her slim waist showed for just a moment.

There was a boldness in her silence. An edge of defiance that didn't ask for approval.

Pretty as she was, her past carried a criminal record that couldn't be ignored.

Brad couldn't understand why Zoey Cooper had pushed for this match. What could she possibly see in a woman who had served time?

Even more puzzling was the fact that Chris hadn't objected.

Reclining in the back seat, Chris rested his arm with easy confidence, his rolled-up sleeve showing off a well-toned forearm.

His eyes, narrowed slightly, settled on the woman's exposed waist, and an amused glint danced across his face.

Without a word, he shoved the car door open and stepped out.

"Are you Miss Maia Watson?"

Maia turned when she heard someone call her name.

She stood still for a second, caught off guard.

A man in a fitted black shirt stood before her, tall enough to block the sun from her face.

He looked unreal. Handsome in a way that made her pause. Each feature flawless, almost sculpted.

Could this really be the illegitimate son of the Cooper family Zoey had mentioned? The one with a bad reputation and a trail of reckless rumors following him?

A flicker of discomfort ran through her chest. "Are you... Mr. Chris Cooper?" she asked, uncertain.

He gave her a small nod.

Her eyes wandered back to him, studying every detail. His clothes were simple, but something refined clung to him. That faint smile hovered on his lips, never quite touching his eyes, leaving just enough mystery to stir her curiosity.

"You've been staring for a while now, Miss Watson." Chris let out a soft laugh.

Snapping out of it, Maia quickly turned her head, realizing just how obvious she'd been.

"My bad... Should we head inside?" she asked, trying to recover.

Together, they made their way into City Hall. When they came back out, a marriage certificate rested in Chris' hand.

"I'll keep my end of the bargain, Mr. Cooper. Once Zoey's request is fulfilled, I won't stick around. I'll file for divorce right after," Maia said.

Feelings weren't part of their arrangement, and she wasn't delusional. Most men wouldn't sign up for a life with someone who had a prison record.

Chris tilted his head, casting her a look. Her dark hair danced in the breeze, and while her face was striking, there was something clear and honest in her eyes.

Instead of answering her directly, he asked, "Is my aunt doing okay in there?"

Thrown off by the change in topic, Maia answered quickly, "She's healthy. Nothing bad has happened to her."

After a short pause, she pressed her lips together.

Truth be told, Zoey didn't just survive in prison - she thrived.

It was practically her comfort zone.

"Glad to hear it." Chris didn't ask anything more. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek credit card, and handed it to her. "Here. A little something to welcome you in."

Maia shook her head, hands raised in protest. "That's not necessary. I've got my own money."

Sure, they were now legally married, but it was still their first day meeting. And from what Zoey had shared, Chris might've had the Cooper name, but he was treated like an outsider. His standing in the family and at the Cooper Group was practically nonexistent.

From what she'd heard, he held no serious job title and spent most days drifting aimlessly.

She figured that he probably didn't have much saved up either.

The thought of accepting anything from him made her uncomfortable.

But Chris didn't waver. He took her hand, placed the card firmly in her palm, and didn't let go.

His eyes locked onto hers - cool, enigmatic, and impossible to read.

"We just completed the marriage registration, which technically makes me your husband now. That gives you every right to use my money. Or is it that you're turning it down because you're not ready to admit I'm your husband?"

Hearing that word - husband - sent a faint flush across Maia's otherwise composed features.

"I'm not saying that..." Maia began, trying to explain, but her voice trailed off before she could land on the right words.

Without another word, she took the card and gave him a quiet, polite thank you.

Seeing her relent, Chris showed a smile of approval. "So, where are you heading? I'll give you a ride."

At that moment, a weight settled in Maia's chest. Her plan was to return to the Morgan family home.

It wasn't the house she cared about. What mattered was the bracelet - the last gift to her from her grandmother, Vicki Morgan.

Back when Richard and Sandra treated her like an afterthought, Vicki had been the one constant. She had taught Maia everything from table manners to standing tall in a crowd.

Though no blood tied them together, Vicki's love had been as real as any grandmother's.

Maia knew, without doubt, that if Vicki had still been alive, she would've defended her with everything she had.

That thought brought a quiet ache Maia didn't show.

Still, she shook it off and gave Chris a calm smile. "There's something I need to handle, Mr. Cooper. I'll be fine on my own."

"No problem. Just call if you need anything."

He handed her his number, then stayed behind as she walked off.

When her silhouette finally disappeared around the corner, he glanced down at the marriage certificate still in his hand. A knowing smile curved his lips.

Divorce? Not happening.

Nobody could guess how long he'd been waiting for this moment.

Maia stood outside Vista Villas, her finger pressing the doorbell of the Morgan estate.

She had picked this time carefully - she remembered how afternoons were usually quiet, each family member off chasing their own distractions.

When the door creaked open, it was Tricia Scott, the longtime housekeeper. Her eyes flew wide at the sight. "Is that really you, Miss Morgan? I... I can't believe you're here!"

The moment the words spilled out, Tricia covered her mouth with her hand, instantly regretting them.

The title belonged to Rosanna now. As far as the Morgans were concerned, Maia didn't exist anymore.

And if Rosanna happened to hear how Tricia had spoken to Maia, the fallout would be brutal.

With a quiet, measured tone, Maia said, "I'm just here to pick up a few of my things." Then she walked in as if she'd never been gone.

Just as she'd expected, the place felt empty - eerily so. No voices, no footsteps.

As she made her way toward the stairs, Tricia rushed after her in a fluster. "Miss... uh, Maia, what exactly are you looking for? I can help you search."

"It's alright, Tricia. Everything I need should still be in my room. I'll just be a moment."

But before she could take another step, Tricia blocked her path. Her gaze darted everywhere but Maia's face. "Well, um... about that..."

A crease formed on Maia's forehead. Something didn't sit right.

Her voice lost its calm edge. "Tricia, what happened?"

With her shoulders sinking, Tricia finally gave in. A weary sigh escaped her. "Miss Morgan cleared everything out after you were imprisoned. And your old room - it's not yours anymore. It's just a storage room now."

Maia froze. Her eyes grew wide, disbelief settling in. "Everything?" So was the bracelet that Vicki had given her thrown away, too?

A slow, regretful nod from Tricia confirmed what Maia had feared.

The truth hit Maia hard, sudden and brutal, like a lightning strike.

Someone like Rosanna wouldn't have had the guts to toss out her things unless Richard and Sandra were in on it too.

Trembling from head to toe, Maia clenched her fists tight.

That bracelet had been Vicki's last gift to her - a symbol of love in a house that had offered her none.

Anger swelled inside her, fierce and uncontrollable.

She had tried to walk away from the Morgan family, to leave the past buried. But now, all that anger came roaring back.

From behind, a voice she hadn't missed in the slightest cut through the room. "I knew you'd show your face again, Maia!"

Maia turned to look.

Jarrod was there, standing a short distance away, that same smug grin plastered across his face.

Rosanna was by Sandra's side, gripping her arm as if playing the dutiful daughter for the cameras no one could see.

Without saying another word, Tricia slipped out of the room, sensing the tension.

Jarrod closed the space between them, towering slightly over Maia as he looked down with smug contempt.

"You were really bold outside the prison this morning. What's the deal now? Sneaking back in like this? Let me guess. With a record like yours, no one's gonna hire you. So you came crawling back. We're the only ones still willing to throw you a scrap, aren't we?"

With a lifted brow and a voice filled with sarcasm, he said, "Here's a thought - admit everything now. Post a public apology to the Morgan family, and maybe we'll let you stick around out of pity. Sound fair?"

Jarrod had been simmering with rage ever since that morning.

That stunt Maia pulled with the press had bruised the Morgan name, and while he hadn't lashed out then, he was done holding it in.

Now that she had walked straight into their home, he planned to crush whatever defiance she still had left from prison.

Putting Maia in her place felt long overdue, and now that she had returned to the house, Jarrod believed it was his right to set her straight.

An apology, a fresh start, and keeping her distance from Rosanna - that was all it would take for him to consider letting Maia back into the family.

The cost of keeping her around barely made a dent in the Morgan finances. Feeding her and offering shelter was no different from tossing away loose change.

Still, even freeloaders usually had the sense to be polite. A bit of humility wasn't too much to expect. But Maia acted like the world owed her a debt.

That attitude made his blood boil.

When Maia stepped forward, Jarrod lifted a brow and folded his arms, fully expecting her to stop and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, she walked right past him without a single glance, heading straight toward Rosanna.

His smugness vanished in an instant.

Then again, Rosanna was the one Maia had insulted publicly. Maybe this was her way of making things right.

But what came out of Maia's mouth next shattered that assumption. "Where are my things, Rosanna?"

Rosanna stiffened on the spot. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes before she painted on a look of pure innocence. "What things? Maia, I have no idea what you're going on about."

A cold fire lit up Maia's eyes, the kind that didn't just glare - it cut.

Her stare locked onto Rosanna like a blade, and her tone came out flat, stripped of emotion. "This is the last time I'll ask. Where did you put everything that was in my room?"

Instantly, Rosanna's face crumpled into a pitiful expression, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't mean anything by it, Maia. I just... I thought they'd wear out if I left them there too long. I figured I'd replace them once you came back, so I-"

Before she could finish, a loud slap cracked through the room, cutting the air like lightning.