The Devil's Forbidden Heiress

Los Angeles — 5:30 PM

Los Angeles was drowning in traffic. Brake lights stretched endlessly across the busy streets, glowing red beneath the morning haze, while impatient horns echoed between the towering buildings. Buses pulled over to release crowds of tired workers, their doors opening and closing as people rushed in and out. Vendors shouted over the constant noise, trying to attract customers, while street performers competed with the sounds of engines and honking cars. People hurried along the crowded sidewalks with phones and coffee cups in their hands, some talking loudly on calls while others stared blankly ahead, already exhausted by the long day ahead. The smell of fresh coffee, gasoline, and street food mixed in the warm air. Tall buildings rose above the streets, their glass windows reflecting the pale sunlight as the city slowly came alive. It was another ordinary day in Los Angeles, loud, restless, and unforgiving, with millions of people chasing deadlines, dreams, money, and sometimes simply trying to survive.

Among the crowd was Ixora Rossi, a twenty-five-year-old woman with flawless skin, long blonde hair, deep glassy eyes, and an hourglass figure. Despite her beauty, there was nothing luxurious about her life. She was dressed in a simple diner uniform because she had just finished one of her two jobs for the day. Exhausted, she headed toward the bus stop and waited for a cab.

When one finally stopped, she climbed inside and gave the driver her destination.

"Whitestone Estate."

The cab drove through the city until the enormous Whitestone Villa came into view. The mansion looked like a palace built for royalty, with massive columns, endless hallways, enormous gardens, and a ballroom large enough to make every sound echo. To outsiders, it was a dream home, but to Ixora, it was a prison.

You might wonder why a girl who worked two jobs and lived like a poor woman would return to such a mansion. The answer was simple. She was the real Rossi heiress. Her father, Mr. Rossi, owned the mansion and one of the most successful companies in Los Angeles.

When Ixora was five, her mother died from cancer, leaving a painful emptiness in her heart. Years later, her father brought Clarissa into their home. Clarissa already had a daughter named Sienna, who was only one year younger than Ixora. Instead of becoming the loving family Ixora hoped for, Clarissa slowly turned the mansion into a nightmare. She secretly manipulated Mr. Rossi while treating Ixora like an unwanted child. When Ixora turned eighteen, her father suddenly died, and no one ever told her exactly what happened. After his death, Clarissa took control of everything.

Sienna was dressed in expensive clothes, driven around in luxury cars, and treated like the Rossi heiress, while Ixora was forced to wear old clothes and live like a servant. Everyone believed Sienna was the true heiress. Nobody believed Ixora when she claimed the truth.

Ixora stepped into the mansion and immediately saw Clarissa and Sienna sitting in the living room, surrounded by expensive clothes and shopping bags. She lowered her head and tried to walk upstairs, but Sienna noticed her.

"Hey, you! Stop!" Ixora stopped and turned around.

"What do you want?" she asked tiredly.

Sienna's face hardened. "How dare you speak to the heiress of the Rossi family like that?"

Clarissa glanced at the bodyguards. "Bring her here." Two men immediately grabbed Ixora and dragged her toward Sienna.

Before she could react, Sienna slapped her across the face. Her diamond ring cut Ixora's cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.

"How dare you talk back to me?" Sienna hissed. Ixora touched her bleeding cheek and laughed bitterly. "In your dreams." Sienna's eyes turned cold. She pushed Ixora to the floor and stepped on her hand with her heel.

"Ah!" Ixora cried as tears filled her eyes. Clarissa walked closer, laughing. "You are such a worthless girl. Do you honestly think someone like you could ever be the Rossi heiress?

A girl like you has no value. Only Sienna deserves this family." She grabbed Ixora's chin, her nails digging into her skin. Sienna smiled cruelly.

"Mom, why are we still keeping this trash here? We should throw her out."

Clarissa shook her head. "No. I want to watch her suffer every day." Ixora's chest suddenly tightened. Her asthma was getting worse, and she struggled to breathe. She pushed Sienna away and ran upstairs before they could stop her.

Ixora rushed into her room, locked the door, and grabbed her inhaler. After using it, her breathing slowly returned to normal.

She touched her cheek and stared at the blood on her fingers. "Why is all this happening to me?" she whispered through her tears.

She picked up her phone and called Cade, her boyfriend since high school. "Ixora, what's up?" he answered.

Hearing his voice gave her a little comfort. "Babe, I really miss you. Can I come see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Cade replied, but his next words made her pause. "But I really need that money now." Ixora forced a smile. "Don't worry. I'll bring it tomorro—" The call suddenly ended. She stared at the screen in confusion.

"What? Maybe the network got bad." She had no idea that Cade was not the loving boyfriend she believed him to be. Somewhere else, he was already planning to use her for money, and Ixora was about to discover that the person she trusted most was part of the nightmare surrounding her.

The Next Morning — Cross Group

Cade stared at his phone after ending the call with Ixora. "I was talking about something important to her," he complained. Adeline, the popular girl from their high-school days, rolled her eyes as she adjusted her clothes.

"Why don't you just break up with that loser?" she asked.

Cade smirked and pulled her closer. "Relax. Ixora is our money-making machine. As long as she believes I love her, she will keep giving me money. Once I become part of the Cross Group, everything will change. We will have a mansion, expensive cars, designer clothes, jewelry and everything else we want."

Adeline's eyes sparkled. "I love that plan." She wrapped her arms around him. "But what happens when she stops giving you money?" Cade laughed.

"She won't. She is too in love with me to realize what we are doing." Neither of them knew that their plan was about to collapse.

Across Los Angeles, the Cross Group stood like a symbol of