The Real Heiress Is Overworked, Forget Love and Just Pay Her Chapter 01

The Real Heiress Is Overworked, Forget Love and Just Pay Her Chapter 01

I’m a corporate drone from the a struggling small town, and I’ve always been jealous of rich people who never have to work.

When the Shaw family tracked me down and brought me home, I thought I was finally done with the grind.

Except they didn’t want to give me money or shares. They just wanted to shower me with love.

So I had no choice. I kept my job and kept clocking those long hours.

One night, I got back late because of overtime. Vera Shaw, the adopted daughter, stood in the foyer with tears streaming down her face.

“Gemma, why do you come home so late every night? Do you hate me that much? Is that why you don’t want to be here?”

Mr. and Mrs. Shaw stared at me, disappointment written all over their faces.

“Why can’t you just accept Vera? Do you have any idea how worried she’s been? She’s been a wreck because of you.”

Chase Shaw grabbed my shoulder and tried to force my head down toward Vera. “I knew it the second you walked back in. You were going to turn this house into a disaster. You’d better start explaining yourself to Vera. Right now.”

I stared at this cliché, melodramatic mess, completely exhausted.

“How long are you going to keep this act up? Hurry it up. I have work tomorrow.”

***

The four of them went dead silent.

My phone buzzed. I looked down and saw my client’s umpteenth round of revision notes.

God. Not again.

The frustration boiled up inside me, and all I wanted was to collapse onto my king-size bed and forget the world.

I turned to leave, but someone grabbed my arm.

Chase, my so-called big brother, glared at me. “What the hell is that attitude, Gemma? Is your stupid job more important than Vera?”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Obviously. Where else am I supposed to get money? It’s not like you people are handing me any shares in the company.”

That one sentence drained the color from all four of their faces.

I was barely three when I got lost. By the time the Shaw family found me, I’d already been working for two years.

When I first learned I was their biological daughter, I was over the moon.

I’d heard the stories. The minute their adopted daughter turned eighteen, her parents rewarded her with a $1.5 million trust fund and ten percent of the company shares.

If that’s how they treated an adopted kid, I figured I’d get way more as their real flesh and blood.

So I played along. I transferred my records, changed my last name, and moved back into Shaw Estate.

The moment I brought up the shares, they told me they hadn’t set anything aside for me.

I asked why.

Mr. Shaw fixed me with a stern look. “Share transfers are complicated. There are a lot of factors involved. It’s not as simple as you think.”

Right. When it was for Vera, it wasn’t complicated. When it’s for me, suddenly it’s a huge hassle.

Fine. No shares? Then how about some allowance money?

Mrs. Shaw shot that down too. “Gemma, it’s not that we don’t want to. But Vera hasn’t asked us for a single cent since she became an adult. If we give you money and not her, it’ll hurt her feelings.”

I almost choked on my own rage right then and there.

Vera had a $1.5 million trust fund dumped into her account the day she turned eighteen, plus her yearly dividends.

If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be asking them for a cent either.

The four of them fell silent again. I figured the drama was over and moved to leave, but Chase’s cold voice cut through the air.

“Money, money, money. Is that all you ever think about? Mom makes you her homemade chicken soup every single day, and have you ever even tasted it? Vera waits up for you every night. Have you ever said thank you?”

“They’ve given you nothing but love, and you walk around with that dead-ass look on your face like we all owe you something. You’re the one who wandered off, remember? So who the hell are you trying to punish with this whole act?”

He stood there, radiating self-righteous fury, accusing me of not appreciating family.

I let out a laugh. “Chicken soup? Seriously, Chase? You don’t even know I’m allergic to it. And I never asked Vera to wait up for me. None of you bothered to ask if I even wanted any of this. I don’t, so spare me the performance.”

My words were sharp enough to make his face twist with rage. He raised his hand.

“You ungrateful little—”