The Billion Dollar Heiress

The music from the party throbbed faintly through the wall, but inside the quiet guest room, everything stilled. The air was thick with alcohol and heat. Isla's hand was pinned loosely above her head, her back sinking into the soft bed beneath the heavy weight pressing down on her.

This shouldn't be happening.

This shouldn't be happening.

The words echoed in her head like a warning bell, but they drowned beneath the haze of alcohol flooding her veins. His wet mouth trailed along her neck, leaving burning kisses and light bites that made her dizzy in a dangerously good way.

Her body jolted when he pushed inside. Sharp pain collided with the blur of pleasure. She winced, pressing against him, wanting to push him away but also wanting to make him stay. Heat and dizziness filled the room and neither of them could bring themselves to stop.

Everything reeked of alcohol; his breath, her skin, the sheets and he soft, addictive sounds he made as he moved against her.

It soon began to feel good. Her body trembled as he moved, the feeling of pain and pleasure twisting into something she can't understand. Time slipped, blurred, until she couldn't feel anything anymore.

The rays of sunlight flickered through the curtains. Isla squinted her eyes open, trying to process where she was. Everything looked different; the ceiling, the expensive walls, the soft bed. This wasn't her room. She tried to get up, but a sharp pain pulled her back down. It hurt like hell between her legs.

"Fuck," a grumpy mutter sounded beside her, making her instinctively turn her head.

Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Damien Da Silva was lying beside her. Shirtless. And she....

Her memories surged back in fragments. Last night there was a frat party, the first she had ever attended. A drinking game. Too many shots. The blur of laughter. She couldn't explain how it happened, but she didn't need anyone to tell her what she had done.

She had spent the night with him.

"I'm sure we both understand this was an accident," Damien finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "If you tell anyone about this, I swear I'll make your life a living hell."

Isla's throat tightened. She swallowed hard, though nothing went down. She had admired Damien from afar for years and had never been bold enough to speak to him, not even to wave. She never imagined the first words he would direct at her would drip with such disdain.

"Understood." The word slipped out in a whisper she hadn't intended.

As if she could convince anyone she had slept with Damien. He was filthy rich, born into power, one of the "it boys" of the decade. His type of women were models, fashion icons, the wealthy and stunning, everything Isla wasn't. It was bad enough that someone as average as her got to study at the same elite school as him. Now she had crossed the invisible line and shared his bed.

"Good. Clean yourself up and leave as fast as you can," he ordered, standing and disappearing into the bathroom.

Isla hurried to fix her hair and clothes. Her legs still burned painfully, but she managed to limp out of the room. The frat house was a wreck: broken bottles, liquor cups, half-eaten food, people passed out on the floor. Music still boomed through the walls as Isla slipped outside.

When she finally arrived at her dorm, her roommate was pacing with a phone pressed to her ear. Priya froze when she saw Isla standing in the doorway with her hair messy,make up smudged and her yesterday's clothes rumpled. Her gaze dropping immediately to the phone in Isla's hand.

"It was switched off," Isla explained quickly.

"You look like a mess! I told you not to go to that party, but you wouldn't listen." Priya rushed over, concern etched across her face. "Why didn't you come back to the hostel? This isn't like you."

Isla managed a faint smile. She loved Priya. When she first received her scholarship to study at this prestigious school, Priya had been the only one who hadn't treated her like an outsider because of her background.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, but I'm fine. I'm already late for class, so I'll get ready. You don't have to wait for me," Isla said softly, forcing her aching legs toward the bathroom.

After a few minutes of self-reflection, guilt, and disgust, she was ready. When she stepped out, she was surprised to find Priya still sitting on the bed, waiting.

"It's fine. I hate Mr. Kasom's class anyway. If me being late annoys him too, then let's go together," Priya said with a grin.

Isla couldn't help but chuckle. She hooked her arm through Priya's as they walked out. She would be fine. She just had to pretend last night never happened. Damien probably didn't even remember what she looked like. He had always seen her as invisible.

History class passed quickly, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Until she noticed the stares. The whispers. The laughter. People pointing at her.

"Slut," someone muttered as she walked by. She ignored it, though questions screamed silently inside her.

"Isla! Thank God I found you," Priya said, rushing up to her. "There's a video going around in the school group chat. It says you slept with Damien Da Silva."

Isla's heart slammed against her chest. "What?"

She couldn't process it before the air around her shifted. A familiar scent lingered, an expensive cologne and attention. Damien walked down the hallway, flanked by his usual group of boys. He looked perfect, as always, but his eyes found hers, sharp and burning.

"Pereira." His voice carried firmly across the hall. "I've never spoken to you. I've never had anything to do with you since you came to this school. So who do you think you are to start a scandal like this?"

Isla shook her head, panic rising. Too many people were watching.

"I didn't-"

"Listen." His words cut through hers like a blade. "You're not my type. Everyone knows I'd never stoop so low as to settle for someone like you. I know you're desperate for attention, but don't drag me into it. End this rumor immediately."

He didn't wait for her response. He just walked past, leaving her frozen.

Isla's vision blurred. Whispers, laughter, insults closed in on her. Priya tried to defend her, but it was useless. Something wet and slimy smacked against her chest. She looked down as egg yolk slid across her shirt.

"Apologize to Damien, you slut!" someone shouted.

Her phone buzzed with headlines and messages. Pictures of her, edited, mocked, dissected. Her humiliation spreading like wildfire.

But nothing cuts deeper than Damien's words.

Chapter 2: The Good News

The Isla humiliation and hate train kept burning strong. With each passing second, a new horrible headline about her dropped. Her hostel was no longer safe, people had broken in and trashed her room. Paintings of her name, smeared with vile remarks, covered every corner of the school hall.

She was too scared to even check her phone. Death threats kept piling up like a semi-truck, but Damien remained untouchable. Instead of losing support, he gained triple.

People painted him as the victim- the man who had almost been sabotaged by an attention-seeking lowlife.

The hate was too much for Isla to bear, so she decided to leave school for the time being.

"Isla, you don't plan to lock yourself up in there forever, do you?" A familiar voice called from the door. Throughout the nightmare, Priya never left her side.

But Isla wanted to be alone. Nothing could convince her to step outside. At least, that was what she thought- until a thunderous knock nearly rattled the door off its hinges.

That could only be one person.

Cursing under her breath, Isla dragged her tired body out of bed and opened the door. Standing there was a skinny, sharp-featured woman. She was in her mid-forties, but her permanent scowl made her look ten years older.

"You sly brat. The nerve you have to come back here after running off without paying," the woman seethed, pointing at her like a witch.

"I promise I didn't run away, ma'am Rohana. I just didn't have the money. Even while schooling, I'm still trying to find ways to pay you back," Isla pleaded.

"Oh really?" Rohana sneered, twitching her lips. She stretched out her hand. "Then give me the little money you've managed to make."

Sweat dampened Isla's forehead. She didn't have a single coin to show. And even if she tried to give Rohana another excuse, she knew it would only earn her ridicule. Rohana was fed up and Isla knew it.

"For an extra year, I've given you time and listened to your lame excuses. But no more. I want you out tonight!" Rohana snapped.

"Ma'am, please..." Isla clasped her hands together in desperation.

"Your pleas and fake tears won't work this time. I've already sold the house to someone else. They're moving in tomorrow morning. You have until this evening. I don't want to see you here again!" Rohana didn't wait for a reply. She stormed off, leaving Isla trembling.

Isla shut her eyes tight, convinced that was enough bad luck for one day. Then her phone pinged. A message notification.

She planned to ignore it, expecting another death threat. But when she saw the familiar heading label, her heart lurched. She quickly opened it.

Greetings Miss Isla, this is a reminder from Unity Medical Center. Your grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Pereira, has outstanding medical bills. Until payment is settled, she will not be able to continue treatment. Please contact our billing office immediately for follow-up.

Isla's legs nearly gave way. She bolted out of the house and ran as fast as she could toward the hospital. With no money for a taxi, it took her a long while before she finally arrived, breathless and shaken.

"Why aren't you attending to my grandmother?!" she cried helplessly to a woman at the billing office.

"I'm so sorry, Miss, but we've done everything we could for her. Her bills still need to be cleared," the woman said gently.

"How much is she owing? Please, I'll see what I can do. Just treat her... she's my only family." Isla's face was drenched with tears. If anything happened to her grandma, she knew she would never forgive herself.

"She's owing ten thousand dollars," the woman informed her.

Isla nearly fainted on the spot.

She didn't even have a penny, not enough to buy a piece of candy, let alone ten thousand dollars. Where on earth was she supposed to find such money?

Her phone began ringing. An unknown number. She instantly assumed it was another threat from the school, so she declined the call and slumped onto a chair, trying to process everything.

The phone rang again. She declined it, blood boiling.

When it rang a third time, she lost her patience.

"Listen, I don't know who you are. Leave me alone, okay? Stop bothering my life already! I already have so much to deal with and I don't care about some stupid video on the internet. My grandmother is dying in the hospital, and I don't even have the money to pay for her treatment and I don't even have a place to stay because I was kicked out of my house. Leave me alone!" Her voice cracked as she screamed into the phone.

The caller stayed calm, waiting for her to finish venting.

"I'm sorry you're going through all that," a gentle male voice replied. "But I'm here to bless you with some good news... if I'm really speaking with Miss Isla Pereira."

Isla blinked in confusion. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

"My name is Graham. I am the butler of the late Mr. Harold Khan. He passed away a few weeks ago, but he left everything he owned to you- his estate, his business, his wealth. I'd like us to meet so we can finalize this."

Isla furrowed her brows, stunned. "With all due respect, sir, I'm already going through too much. If you're trying to scam me, I'm sorry to inform you, you won't get a thing from me," she said firmly.

"I understand it's hard to believe," Graham sighed. "But there's no other way to prove it. You said your grandmother is in the hospital. Send me the hospital account details. I'll settle the bill, then you'll know I'm telling the truth."

It sounded absurd. But Isla had nothing left to lose. If he was a scammer, then at least he couldn't steal what she didn't have.

With trembling fingers, she sent him the account details.

Seconds later, a screenshot arrived in her inbox.

It was the proof of payment.

Sent.

The billing officer in front of the laptop stared at Isla with surprised eyes. "The bills were paid just now," she said, like she couldn't believe the words were flying out of her mouth. Since they knew Isla or anyone related to her, they had never been able to pay their bills, not even the cents.

"I'm aware of that," Isla responded, standing up. "Can my Nana's treatment continue?"

The woman briskly nodded, printing the payment receipt and handing it over to Isla. "You can show this to the nurses."

"Thank you," Isla muttered, walking out of the room and leaving the officer staring at her in awe.

Her Nana was taken back to the care room for treatment, and Isla decided to go back home as it was getting late. When she got home, she wasn't surprised to see her luggage scattered on the floor. The door was locked with a huge padlock, Madam Rohana wasn't joking about kicking her out this time.

Her phone chimed. A sum of thirty thousand dollars had just been sent to her account, followed by a message from Graham:

G - I know this is really small, but use it to get yourself a nice hotel to stay in tonight. Make sure to get the rest you need before we meet up tomorrow.

Isla still couldn't believe this was real life. If someone from the future had told her she would wake up one day to see thousands of dollars in the bank, she would have cursed the person out. The fact that Graham was apologizing as if he had sent her a penny was wild to her.

Thank you, she texted back, before packing her luggage and looking up nice hotels where she could lodge.

She stayed in the modest neighborhood in Singapore where hotels were hard to find, even the best hotel the internet suggested for her was nothing-not even a quarter compared to what she had in the bank right now. She decided to go there for the night before visiting Graham the next day.

G - Rise and shine. I hope you slept well and that you've had something to eat. Please text me the location of your hotel so I can have someone pick you up for our meeting.

Isla read Graham's message first thing when she woke up.

She took her shower, changed her clothes, and then proceeded to text Graham the location.

A message came next from Priya:

P - I came to your house this morning. I brought you food, but I saw new people living there. Madam Rohana said she kicked you out yesterday. Where are you staying now?

P - You know you can always crash at my place. Come on, Isla, don't do this alone.

Guilt washed over Isla as she read the messages from her best friend, but Priya had gone through so much for her already. She couldn't keep putting her in more danger.

Isla thought to herself that if this whole inheritance thing with Graham was real, she would pay Priya back.

Her phone rang-it was an unknown number, but she picked up, knowing it was probably from Graham.

"Miss Isla Pereira, we were sent by Mr. Graham to come pick you up," an unfamiliar fancy male voice informed her. "Kindly come outside, ma'am. We are parked and waiting."

"Alright, I'm coming," Isla replied before hanging up. She took her small luggage with her as she checked out of the hotel.

She got outside, looking for the car that was going to take her to Graham. It can't possibly be the black Mercedes Benz S-Class waiting for her, can it? Isla refused to believe it, so she called Graham to ask where the driver was.

"They are right in front of you," Graham confirmed, letting her know the Mercedes waiting for her was indeed hers.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by sending a limo, so I thought this would be okay for you," Graham added.

He even planned on sending a limo? Isla believed this was all too much and began to wonder how rich Mr. Harold Khan must have been.

The car ride was not the nightmare of a trip she was expecting. It took about ten to fifteen minutes, the simplicity of her neighborhood disappearing before her as she was welcomed into the well-developed, busy, and luxurious city.

The ride came to a halt before a tall glass skyscraper. If Isla thought the Mercedes Benz sent to pick her up was too much, she was now lost for words at how to explain the hundreds of expensive cars parked outside.

The chauffeur helped her with the door. Isla could see both male and female security officers dressed in shining uniforms-better than what she currently had on.

"Mr. Graham said you should have this map and this card. The map shows you the direction to the building where you can meet him. Anyone you ask questions, just show them the card and they will understand," one of the chauffeurs informed her.

"Thank you," Isla barely found her voice to speak, taking her worn-out small bag of luggage.

Forcing her wobbly legs to move into the building, the crisp, cold air-conditioning hit her skin, followed by the fresh scent of sandalwood mixed with leather and faint citrus. The interior was blindingly clean, Isla could even see her reflection in the wooden chairs.

"And how can I help you, miss?" A soft but stern woman's voice stopped her. The woman, with oily wavy hair, stared at her with a look of both disgust and curiosity.

"I-"

Isla wasn't given a chance to speak when another woman cut her off.

"As of now, we don't accept cleaners."

Isla did not appreciate the comment. Just because she wasn't dressed as smart as them gave them the immediate right to assume she was a cleaner. If they found out she was about to own this company, she wondered how they would feel.

"I'm here to see Mr. Graham. I have an appointment with him," she said, showing them the card given to her.

The women's skin grew pale. They didn't ask any more questions, as they knew not everyone had access to that card, but their silent question was how she had managed to get it.

Isla followed the map, going through floors on the elevator. Everywhere was sparkling-she couldn't escape her reflection from the walls, floors, and everything around her.

Finally, she arrived at an office that looked exactly like the one on the map. Her blood grew cold as she knocked on the door. What if she stepped in and her life flashed before her eyes? But Isla had already accepted she had nothing to lose. If she died now, her grandmother was being treated, and that was enough.

"Come in," a familiar voice answered. She could tell it was Graham. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in.

Graham looked exactly like the vibe he gave her from the phone call. He looked like a gentle middle-aged man, with no look of surprise or discrimination in his eyes when he sighted her. Instead, he welcomed her with a bright smile.

"Glad to finally meet you in person, Miss Isla Pereira. Please have your seat."

The office was spacious, almost ten times bigger than the apartment she had been kicked out of. There was a long oak table with nearly twenty chairs surrounding it. Graham stood and pulled out a chair for her.

"Thank you," Isla said, sitting down and hugging her luggage close to her.

"You should relax, Miss Pereira. You are in a safe space," Graham said, sounding as comforting as possible.

Isla could see Graham was trying his best to prove to her that he wasn't a bad person, so she made the effort to calm herself down.

"Water." He passed a lukewarm glass of water towards her. "You can take a few minutes if you need to."

"It's okay, just tell me all I need to know," Isla muttered.

"Like I said, Miss Pereira. Mr. Harold died and left almost everything he owned to you, you get the company, cars, lands, money, but in one condition," Graham said, his voice growing serious.

"What?" Isla could barely hear her own voice as the banging of her heart grew louder each passing second.

"You get married to his son."