The True Heiress's Return

"Stop here."

A striking Maybach cruised through the busiest street in the old part of town. Suddenly, the man in the back seat commanded in a low voice. The driver pulled over, confused, anil followed the man's gaze out the window. He saw a slender woman turn into a nondescript alley, followed closely by three burly men. Sir, I'll go and help."

The man in the car chuckled softly, his slender, well-proportioned wrist resting on the window frame as he fixed his eyes on the alley entrance.

No."

*****

The driver looked bewildered. "Huh?" If I wasn't going to help, then why stop the car? The driver thought. In the alley.

The men slowly approached, stopping less than two meters in front of Shakira. She furrowed her brow slightly, scanning their arms and hands. It was clear that all three of them had the build of someone who worked out regularly; they didn't look like typical punks hanging around the old part of town. Afleeting understanding flashed in Shakira's eyes, but her face remained mostly expressionless. "You guys are clearly professionals. I'm afraid I can't keep up with that." The three men were taken aback, exchanging glances with each other before continuing to close in on Shakira. "Smart girls like

you

I can get into a lot of trouble," one of them said, and all three lunged at Shakira simultaneously. Her eyes turned cold, and she spun around, spotting the slight limp in the left man's step. Shakira targeted him as a weak point. Soon, the dark alley echoed with screams and cries of pain, which eventually turned into pleas for mercy. "Sorry, sorry! Please spare us, Miss!" The three men lay on the ground, unable to even crawl. They never expected that such a slender woman would be so agile. Even worse, with just a few needles, she had them feeling like all their muscles had been drained, leaving them helpless and at her mercy!

As akira approached, the men's eyes widened as if they had seen a ghost. Shakira kicked the man who had spoken. "Who's your 'Miss'?" "Ms. Nelson, you're our boss! Please have mercy!"

"Ms. Nelson, we didn't know who we were dealing with! Please spare us, please!" The three burly men, each twice her size, were now wailing and pleading. Shakira slowly retracted her leg, which she had been about to use for a second kick. "Who sent you here?" "No, no, it was just a coincidence."

"Yeah, we work for Mr. Booth, collecting payments. We had a few drinks after finishing our collections today, and we just happened to see you."

Shakira looked at their expressions and sneered. She delivered three more needles, ensuring they wouldn't be able to stand for at least a year, targeting a very sensitive area. Then, she dusted off her hands and walked away, leaving them in pain and humiliation. Stenning out of the alley, Shakira immediately spotted the conspicuous Maybach. As if on cue, the car's window rolled down peared in her line of sight. She walked over, looking puzzled. "Aren't you supposed

to be at dinner tonight? Shakira asked.

3

Kyle raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's been so long since we last met, and you already know I had dinner tonight?"

As he spoke, he noticed that Shakira's right knuckles were slightly red.

"You're injured," he said.

Shakira glanced at her hand. "Oh, they're tougher than I am. In ten more minutes, it would have..." But before she could finish, Kyle had already pulled her into the car and opened the emergency medical kit, pulling out some anti-inflammatory medicine. "Has been healed."

Shakira sighed, answering his previous question. "The heir of the White family returning to the country is bound to cause a stir in Crescentville. Plus, I happen to have a classmate who's attending the welcome banquet tonight." "Since it's such a coincidence, why don't you come along?"

Shakira frowned, instinctively replying, "Kyle, didn't we agree that after leaving there, we would act like...?"

"Strangers."

continued, "Everything that happened there is classified. After leaving, we were supposed to forget everything, but since we've met again, it seems we have the fate to be friends." Shakira didn't say anything. Back then, it was only because of an unexpected incident that she and Kyle had seen each other's true faces.

Shak

Ten

Kyle had already taken care of Shakira's small wound. He extended his hand toward her. "Nice to meet you, I'm Kyle White. I happened to pass by and helped Ms. Nelson. So, would it be okay if Ms. Nelson joined me at my welcome banquet?" Shakira slapped his hand away, rolling her eyes. "How did you know my last name was Nelson if this is our first meeting?" minutes later, Shakira still I ended up following Kyle. The banquet was being held at Veiled Vine, the most famous and discreet private restaurant in Crescentville. It was a members-only establishment that didn't accept outside guests; only the owner's friends and their acquaintances had the privilege of dining there. Behind the solemn old-fashioned wooden doors lay a traditional garden setting, complete with pavilions, terraces, winding streams, and vibrant flower beds. Each part of the garden was meticulously designed, as if crafted by an artist. Shakira marveled, "I've heard so much about this private restaurant. I always thought it was in the expensive new district, but I never imagined it would be in the old town. Just restoring the building must have cost a fortune!" Кулакта explained, "We did a lot of research when choosing the location. This place used to be the residence of a famous figure, and we decided to preserve the old architectural style, so we settled here."

Shakira tilted her head and looked at him. "So, you're the owner? How do you know all this?"

"Yeah, I am," Kyle replied.

Shakira was so surprised that she was speechless.

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I had just asked the wealthy owner himself! How bold of me! Turning a corner, Shakira suddenly stopped. "You go in first. I need to use the restroom." Sun, Oct

Kyle smiled gently. "Okay, the private room is just ahead. Don't get lost."

Shakira waved her hand. "Don't worry, I won't."

3

Even the restroom here was lavishly decorated. Shakira washed her hands and then wandered around, idly touching and examining things to pass the time. She noticed an orchid on the wall that looked so real it was hard to tell if it was fake. Curiously, she reached out to touch it when a snide, mocking voice came from the back. "A low-class person from a humble background, coming to a high-end place and even trying to steal the flowers. No wonder you're only fit to be a maid in your lifetime."

Shakira turned around to see Fiona standing there, dressed as flamboyantly as a peacock, with her arms crossed and chin raised, her face full of disdain and mockery.

Behind Fiona stood three other rich girls who had decked themselves out to the nines. Hearing Fiona's words, they all turned their eyes to Shakira. One of them asked, "Fiona, who is she? Which family's maid could have caught your attention?" Another one teased, "Who else could Fiona possibly remember? It must be a maid from the household of Fiona's crush."

Another one sneered, "Even if she's a bit pretty, she's still just a maid. I doubt she couldn't even touch Mr. Lopez's shoes. For years, the only woman by Mr. Lopez's side has been Fiona."

Fiona blushed, looking coy, but then she heard Shakira chuckle. "Alright, I haven't touched Mr. Lopez's shoes, but I have touched his abs."