THE HEIRESS'S REVENGE: ABANDONED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Jasmine's POV

"Did you see it? Jasmine's a total fraud!"

The laughter cut through the corridor like knives. Sharp. Cruel. Unrelenting.

The moment the video leaked, my world fractured.

Shattering like glass beneath a heavy boot.

It was supposed to be just another day at Crestfall Academy... a place where I had bled, clawed, and fought for every inch of ground. A place where I had forced myself to fit in, even when every whisper and sideways glance reminded me that I didn't belong.

But that morning... everything changed.

I turned my head. A group of girls clustered near the lockers, their phones glowing like torches in the dark. The light flickered across their faces, hungry with gossip. My stomach sank. I didn't even need to ask. I already knew.

The video.

My hands trembled as I tightened my grip on my backpack strap.

"Shut up, Mia." I hissed, trying to sound strong, trying to keep my spine straight. But my voice cracked, and their laughter only grew louder.

Each word sliced into me. Each giggle burned.

I pushed forward, fast, desperate to outrun their voices, their eyes, their judgment. The backpack weighed heavier than ever, pressing me into the earth.

The main hall opened ahead, wide and shining with sunlight streaming through stained glass windows. And there...like always... stood Ares.

Tall. Effortlessly confident. The boy who had once held my heart in his hands.

His head tilted back slightly, laughter spilling from his lips as he talked with a group of guys. His presence filled the room, and for a single, fleeting second, I let myself believe I could still lean on him. That he would look up, see me, and shield me.

But the world tilted instead.

"Look!" someone shouted. "It's going viral!"

I froze. My throat went dry. My pulse roared in my ears.

On the glowing phone screen was me.

Not just me.

Me in a hotel room.

Me sitting on a bed in a silky dress far too revealing for Crestfall's polished halls.

Me with a senior executive - Mr. Langford, the academy's biggest donor... his figure half-blurred, his hand brushing my arm.

The camera caught my face in cruel detail: lips parted, eyes wide, dress strap sliding down.

The crowd gasped, then erupted into vicious laughter.

"Wow, so that's how she got her scholarship."

"Scholarship girl? More like a sugar baby girl."

"Guess money isn't the only thing she's good at."

I staggered back a step, air punching out of my lungs.

"That's not..." My voice was too faint. Drowned by the chaos.

The angle. The way it was edited. It looked like I had sold myself to get into Crestfall. The truth didn't matter. Perception was poison, and it was spreading faster than fire.

Ares's voice cut through.

"Jasmine."

I spun. The tone so unfamiliar from the person who calls me "minmin".

He was closer now, his jaw tight, his eyes burning into me. The warmth I used to drown in... gone. Replaced by something sharp. Something accusing.

"It's not what you think," I whispered. My chest rose and fell in panic. "It's not real. Someone set me up."

But his gaze... it pinned me in place. Held me captive. His lips parted like he wanted to believe, but then a shadow of doubt flickered across his face. A flicker I couldn't unsee.

"Ares, please," I begged. My voice cracked in front of everyone. "You know me. You know I wouldn't..."

"Look at her!" Mia's voice rang from the back. "The scholarship girl thinks she can act like one of us? No wonder she dresses like that. Always pretending."

Someone shoved me hard as they passed. My shoulder slammed against a locker. Pain shot through my arm, but the laughter was louder.

And then, a teacher appeared. Mr. Rowen. My chest filled with fragile hope. Surely he'd stop this. Surely he'd defend me.

But his eyes flickered to the screen, to me, to the crowd all in disappointment. His lips pressed thin. And then he turned, walked away.

Like I wasn't worth defending.

Humiliation burned hotter than fire.

I forced myself to look back at Ares. My last anchor. My last chance.

He stepped closer. His voice, low but cutting.

"You're in over your head, Jasmine. This isn't some game anymore."

Game? My throat ached. "Ares, I swear..."

And then desperation ripped through me. Words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"I'm pregnant."

The hallway froze. My chest heaved. My vision blurred. "A month plus. It's yours."

Gasps rippled through the crowd like shockwaves.

Ares's face drained of color, then hardened into steel.

"No," he snapped. His voice was final. "Don't put this on me."

"Ares, I..."

He cut me off, louder now, so everyone could hear.

"That video says it all. Who knows how many men you've been with? You expect me to believe this child is mine?"

The air left my lungs. My heart cracked wide open.

"No..." I shook my head violently. "No, I love you. I've only ever..."

His hand lifted in warning, his eyes full of betrayal that wasn't mine to carry.

"We're done, Jasmine. Stay away from me."

The words echoed in my skull.

"Stay away."

"Stay away."

The floor tilted beneath me. My knees weakened. The faces around me blurred into cruel masks. Phones still recording. Laughter still echoing.

I stumbled backward, back hitting the cold wall, my breath ragged. My heart thundered so loud it drowned out everything else.

This was the boy I gave everything to. The boy I trusted. The boy I carried life for.

And he tossed me away.

The whispers closed in.

"She's disgusting."

"Pregnant? With who?"

"Fake. Trash. She'll never belong here."

I shut my eyes. Every word pierced deeper.

Crestfall was supposed to be my future. My chance to rise.

Now it was a cage of humiliation, closing in, crushing me alive.

A thought hit me like lightning.

I couldn't stay here.

Not like this.

Not broken. Not branded.

I had to disappear. To bury this version of me.

To rise again, stronger. Sharper. Untouchable.

But first, I had to survive this day.

I pushed off the wall, forcing my trembling legs and aching stomach to move. Through the crowd. Through the cruel stares.

I reached the doors. Shoved them open. Cold air slapped my face.

Outside, the world stretched wide and indifferent, but I felt the weight of every stare lingering behind me.

This was the day I died.

The day Jasmine Duvall, the desperate scholarship girl, was buried under lies.

But it was also the day I would be reborn.

My chest heaved. My fists clenched.

"I will make them pay," I whispered into the wind.

And then...

I froze.

The courtyard was empty. Yet my skin prickled, like a thousand invisible needles.

Someone was watching me.

I turned sharply. A shadow flickered near the far gate. A figure I couldn't make out.

My blood ran cold.

This wasn't over.

Not even close.

This was the day I died...

And the day my war began.

Jasmine's POV

The day I walked out of Crestfall, humiliated and broken, I swore I would never be weak again. Never again would I let whispers shred me to pieces, or watch people I trusted turn their backs while I burned. Jasmine Duvall... the naïve girl who once believed in loyalty, in love disappeared from the real world, leaving only Nyx in the internet world.

Seven years later, I wasn't Jasmine anymore. Jasmine was a ghost. In her place, Nyx was born.

Nyx was feared.

Nyx was untouchable.

Nyx was me.

The glow of multiple monitors bathed my hideout in fractured light. Lines of code streamed like veins of fire across black screens. My fingers flew over the keyboard, precise, ruthless, unrelenting. I wasn't playing at survival anymore, I was in control.

Three monitors cast a cold blue haze across my face, their glow steady, dependable, the only constant I had allowed myself. I slipped my headphones over my ears, the bass thumping like a war drum, syncing with the adrenaline already surging through my veins.

"Connection established," my AI interface purred through the speakers. I had written her voice soft and elegant, almost mocking the girl I used to be.

The chat window blinked open. Another client. Another desperate soul willing to pay a fortune for what only I could deliver.

CLIENT: Are you in?

NYX: Always.

CLIENT: They said you're the best. Untouchable.

NYX: They're right. Transfer the advance.

Seconds later, the numbers rolled into my offshore account. Clean. Untraceable. The kind of money that bought silence, new identities, and a past erased.

I launched the breach. Firewalls folded under me like wet paper. Security protocols screamed, alarms pulsed... but I slipped through, silent, unseen. Power surged in my chest. I wasn't the hunted girl anymore. I was the wolf in the dark.

Thomas Raines. A name rotting in the business headlines, though no one dared say it aloud. Corrupt CEO. Launderer. Exploiter. He thought his money bought silence. He thought his offshore accounts made him untouchable.

He hadn't met me yet.

"Alright, Thomas," I muttered, fingers poised above the keyboard. "Let's see what kind of skeletons you've buried."

Lines of code streamed across my screens, my hands moving faster than thought. Firewalls crumbled like paper, encryptions bent and warped. Seven years of exile had taught me how to survive, but more importantly, it had taught me how to strike. My pulse quickened with every barrier I broke.

"Security breach detected," a synthetic voice warned.

I smirked. "Cute."

My keystrokes became a dance, a blur. I tunneled deeper into the labyrinth of data, pushing through traps meant to scare lesser hackers. Not me. I thrived in chaos, in the razor's edge between brilliance and disaster.

Then I found it... the offshore account. Millions siphoned through shell companies, blood money hidden beneath polished boardroom smiles. Victory surged through me as the numbers scrolled down the screen.

"Got you," I breathed. My grin widened. "Time to burn your empire down."

But just as I initiated the data transfer, the screen glitched. A jarring flash of red cut through the blue.

A message. Encrypted. Untraceable.

I froze, pulse stuttering. Messages like this weren't random. Someone knew exactly where I was.

My throat tightened as the words blinked onto the screen.

"Your mother is dead. Come home."

For a heartbeat, everything inside me went still. The hum of the processors, the bass in my ears... it all vanished, drowned out by those five words.

"No..." My voice cracked, foreign in my own ears. "No, it can't be."

The image of her rushed in... her laughter on late summer evenings, the warmth of her hands tucking my hair behind my ear, the quiet resilience in her eyes when everything else crumbled. I hadn't seen her in years. Not since Crestfall. Not since the day I promised myself I'd never go back.

I ripped the headphones off, sucking in a sharp breath. My chest burned as if someone had reached inside and torn me open. I had built my life on walls - digital and emotional. And yet, a single message had punched straight through.

I clenched my fists. "Get it together, Jas."

But the name tasted bitter. Jasmine. The girl I used to be.

No.

I was Nyx. Nyx didn't break. Nyx didn't bleed.

Still, my hands trembled as I wiped the tears threatening to surface.

Was it true? Or was this a trap? The hacker in me screamed caution. A message like that, sent through an untraceable channel? Too perfect. Too deliberate. Someone knew how to pull me back. Someone wanted me in Crestfall.

But what if it was real?

What if she was gone, and I hadn't even said goodbye?

I slammed my palm against the desk, jaw tight. "Damn it."

For seven years I had buried Crestfall, buried her, buried every piece of who I once was. But blood doesn't vanish. Memories don't delete as easily as code. And now the ghosts were clawing back to the surface.

I forced my breathing steady. If my mother was dead, then I needed answers. Answers only Crestfall could give.

"Alright, Thomas," I muttered coldly, pulling the USB drive from the port. "You'll have to wait. I've got bigger demons to hunt."

One by one, I wiped my tracks clean, severing connections, covering footprints until nothing remained but silence. It was second nature now, like erasing myself from existence.

I packed my gear quickly, my movements sharp, mechanical, masking the storm inside. This wasn't just about a mother's death. This was about whoever thought they could drag me back with one message.

I pulled on my jacket, fingers tightening around the zipper as if it could ground me. My sanctuary... the safe house I had built brick by brick, firewall by firewall, suddenly felt like a cage. I needed out. I needed answers.

The message blinked again on my monitor, almost taunting me.

"Your mother is dead. Come home."

I grabbed my keys and turned away, only to freeze as the screen flickered one last time.

A second line appeared, slow, deliberate.

"We've been waiting, Nyx."

The blood drained from my face. My pulse pounded in my ears. Whoever sent this didn't just know about Jasmine. They knew about Nyx.

The name I had built in shadows. The name no one was supposed to trace.

A chill crawled up my spine. I wasn't being asked to come home.

I was being summoned.

And someone was already watching.

Jasmine's POV

The smell hit me first. Not grief... though it clung to the air thick as smoke, but flowers. White lilies, roses, carnations. Too many. Their sweetness was suffocating, as if someone had tried to drown sorrow beneath perfume.

I hated it.

Because no matter how carefully they dressed the room, no matter how soft the music playing in the background, death was still ugly. And my mother was still gone.

"Jasmine?"

The sound of my name cracked the haze, and I turned to see Mrs. Calloway, our old neighbor. Her hair was grayer, her eyes shining with pity that made me want to recoil.

"I'm so sorry about your mother," she whispered, voice dripping with sympathy I didn't trust.

"Thank you," I murmured, forcing a tight smile. It felt alien, stretched across a face that didn't know how to smile anymore.

Her hand hovered, as if she might touch my arm, then thought better of it. She gave me one last, watery look before drifting away into the crowd.

I straightened my shoulders. Breathe, Jasmine. Just breathe.

The room was already filling... familiar faces, some I wished I'd never see again. Crestfall had always been a city of sharp eyes and sharper tongues.

I had once thought of this place as my home. Now it felt like a cage lined with whispers.

And sure enough, they started.

"Is that really her?"

"She looks... different."

"Didn't she get expelled?"

The murmurs slid between the flower arrangements and rows of polished chairs, curling toward me like smoke.

I raised my chin, voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"Funny. You whisper like I can't hear you."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Eyes dropped, throats cleared, and the whispers scattered like ash in the wind.

White lilies lay draped across the polished wood. My mother's favorite. I remembered her humming as she arranged them in a vase, telling me each bloom carried its own story. She'd believed flowers spoke when words failed.

Now they were speaking for her.

"Are you okay?"

I stiffened. Mia. Of all people. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression caught somewhere between concern and curiosity.

"Just... processing," I said flatly.

Her eyes softened, though I caught the twitch at the corner of her lips... like she wanted to say more. Like she wanted to remind me of the scandal I'd left behind here, the one that had nearly destroyed me.

I turned away before she could. My grief didn't need an audience.

Step by step, I approached the casket. Each step felt like walking into quicksand. The closer I got, the heavier the weight pressing on my chest became.

I stopped in front of it, my hand trembling as I reached out. Fingers brushed cool wood. A shiver ran through me.

Gone. She was really gone.

The urge to scream ripped through me so violently my throat ached, but I swallowed it back. Screaming wouldn't bring her back.

"Jasmine."

The voice cut through like a blade... deep, controlled, threaded with something that demanded attention.

I turned.

Mr. Vale.

Time had carved deeper lines into his face, but the presence was the same... solid, calm, unreadable. My mother had trusted him once. I never fully understood why.

"Mr. Vale," I greeted, my voice a little too thin. "Thank you for being here."

He gave me a small nod. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I dipped my chin, unsure how to respond. Words felt too small.

"I wouldn't miss it," he added, eyes flicking toward the gathered crowd, then back to me. Something unreadable flashed there... concern, maybe. Or warning.

My chest tightened.

He leaned slightly closer, voice lowered. "We should speak... about your mother's affairs."

I shook my head, the casket blurring in my peripheral vision. "Not now. Please. Not here."

He studied me for a beat, then nodded once. "Of course. When you're ready."

He stepped back, disappearing into the shifting bodies.

I exhaled shakily, wrapping my arms around myself.

The service began. Voices murmured prayers. A hymn I hadn't heard since childhood drifted through the air. I barely listened. My mind was elsewhere, caught between grief and the sharp stares of Crestfall Academy faces sprinkled throughout the room.

Their eyes were knives.

"The scholarship girl."

"She's back to collect, isn't she?"

"I heard she lives off the grid now. Figures."

I tightened my jaw. Their whispers could penetrate me once. Not anymore.

Because I wasn't just Jasmine anymore.

I was Nyx.

The hacker they'd never suspect. The shadow they couldn't touch.

Still, standing here, I felt raw. Every whisper scraped against my skin, reminding me of who I used to be... the weak girl who broke under their laughter.

The weak girl my mother tried to protect.

When the service ended, people moved toward the doors, offering obligatory condolences, muttered prayers, thin smiles. I followed slowly, each step heavy.

The sunlight outside hit me like a slap, too bright, too warm. The world shouldn't shine when mine was collapsing.

"Jasmine."

Vale's voice again. I turned to find him waiting near the edge of the lot, his expression tighter than before. Urgent.

My pulse spiked.

"Can we talk?"

"Now?" I asked, scanning the crowd spilling out behind me. Too many eyes. Too many ears.

"It's important," he said firmly.

Something inside me twisted.

I nodded. "Fine."

He led me to the side of the building, where the noise of voices dulled and the scent of lilies faded into crisp autumn air.

"Your mother left you something," Vale said without preamble.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

He reached into his coat, pulling out a slim, cream-colored envelope.

"She wanted you to have this. Said it would explain things when the time came."

My breath hitched.

I stared at the envelope, my hand half-raised. My fingers shook as I finally took it. The paper felt heavier than it should.

"What is it?" I whispered, though part of me already knew.

"Her words," Vale said simply. His gaze locked onto mine, steady, unyielding. "But Jasmine... this isn't just about her. It's about you. Your future."

My throat tightened. "What are you talking about?"

He hesitated, as though choosing carefully. "There are conditions. Things she kept from you for your own protection. But now... now you'll have to face them."

The ground tilted beneath me. "Conditions? What conditions?"

"Read it," he urged quietly. "You'll understand."

My pulse rumbled in my ears as I slid a finger under the seal. The envelope opened with a soft tear that sounded far too loud in the silence.

Inside lay a folded sheet of paper. My mother's handwriting curved across the page, neat and unmistakable.

I unfolded it, my eyes dragging over the first line.

"To my daughter..."

My heart squeezed so hard it hurt.

"...this inheritance is bound to a contract."

The words blurred.

My stomach dropped.

Bound. To a contract.