The True Heiress's Return

The Maybach rolled slowly into Eastlake Valley Estate, the wealthiest neighborhood in Crescentville.

When

Shakira was brought back by the Nelson family, Sean had given her an address and access code-he had bought her a villa, worried she'd have nowhere to go if the Nelsons treated her poorly.

In her past life, even with all the coldness and disdain aimed at her, Shakira had never stepped foot in this place. To her surprise, she discovered that Walter seemed to live here, too.

But the deeper the car drove into the community, the more uneasy Shakira felt. She checked her map and found they had crossed in an area with no name listed.

Suddenly

massive black and gold iron gate appeared ahead. Inside was a vast landscape of lush greenery and numerous opulent buildings, almost like a small estate.

Once c

out t of the car, Shakira was led to a white building filled with various medical equipment and supplies, a faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air-it was a small private hospital.

Shakira's lips twitched slightly. Now she understood why, before Walter's incident, people used to say that Crescentville's wealth revolved around him. With resources like these... Even now, if he wanted to, Walter could change the course of Crescentville with just a flick of his wrist.

Just then, a nurse approached to draw Shakira's blood. She furrowed, "So, I need to go through a check-up before I can meet Mr. Lopez?"

The nurse didn't elaborate, simply saying, "Please cooperate, Ms. Nelson."

Reluctantly, Shakira extended her arm. After all, she had taken advantage of Walter, and now she had to pay the price.

After her blood was drawn, the nurse left, and boredom washed over Shakira as she glanced around the glass-enclosed pharmacy. She noticed that a large portion of the medications seemed to be for sedation and pain relief, which made her

pause.

Moments later, the whirring sound of wheels broke the silence. Shakira turned slowly, arms crossed behind her back, and a familiar face came into view.

Not long ago, she had seen this face in that dimly lit room. Back then, Walter had been with his eyes closed, his handsome features striking bashing in the moonlight.

Now, he sat elegantly in a wheelchair, rolling toward her with an intense gaze. His eyes seemed cold and deep, but deep down, Shakira sensed a raging fire, ready to consume her at any moment.

'He wants to kill me!' Realizing this, Shakira spoke up first, "It's a bit late to say this, but I intended to propose a deal with you, Mr. Lopez.

Walter seemed to find her words amusing. He stopped in front of her, reaching out to grip her collarbone and pulling her closer effortlessly. "Do you like to act recklessly? Do you think you have a second chance at this?"

His fingers traced her neck idly, feeling like a predator pinning down its prey, leisurely searching for the perfect spot to strike-it aimed for a swift, decisive kill.

Instinctively, Shakira raised her hand to grip his wrist, forcing a smile. "I admit I was rude a few hours ago. I'm sorry, Mr. Lopez. But I'm sure you'll be quite pleased with this deal I'm offering."

Walter remained silent, his eyes locked onto hers.

Unfazed, Shakira glanced at his legs and continued, "I'm confident I can help heal your legs."

"Be careful with your words, Ms. Nelson!" Brian called out from the side, a warning in his tone-Walter's legs were a sensitive subject.

Anger flared in Walter's eyes, and his grip on Shakira's collarbone tightened. "You, with your wild ideas and lack of restraint, really believe that just returning to the Nelson family gives you the right to act as you please?"

Shakira grabbed his wrist, pinching a pressure point to control his strength. "Since you've looked into my past, you know I spent two years in Belaris. I met an old traditional medicine master there who taught me some medical skills. Otherwise, you wouldn't have passed out so easily back in that room."

Walter's expression darkened at the mention of that night. "You think I didn't dare to kill you right now?"

"I belie injured heal you

ou

might, but I'm just trying to give myself a shot at redemption," Shakira replied earnestly. "Your legs were

years ago. Even though you can't walk, there's still some feeling left. Let me give it a try, and maybe I really can

Walter glanced at the medicine cabinet she had just checked, a smile creeping onto his lips. That smile could charm anyone, but the way his fingers tightened around her collar showed he was still ready to make her pay. "You're sharp, but do you really think I'm going to take your word for it?" Before Shakira could respond, he grabbed both of her hands with his free one, twisting her around and pinning her back against his wheelchair. Her legs were trapped under the sleek custom chair, leaving her no chance to fight back. "You should be grateful you're still clean. Otherwise, I wouldn't leave you in one piece," he whispered in her ears.

With his grip tightening around her throat, Shakira struggled to speak, each word coming out with great effort. "You..., were hurt because someone drugged you. I can... help..."

Walter's eyes widened in shock. "You scoundrel! Let

Let her go!

Do you want to choke your future wife to death?" Before Walter could react, Benji Lopez rushed, in, grabbed Walter's arm, and started to pull. At Benji's movement, Walter relaxed his grip slightly.

Shakira immediately collapsed to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing. When she looked up, she saw Walter towering over her, using an alcohol wipe to clean his hands-the same hands that had just been around her throat. She shot back, "What's the point of cleaning your hands so thoroughly? Are you going to disinfect everywhere else too?"

Walter's face darkened further.

Walte Tace

Benji clapped his hands together in admiration. "Wow, no wander you could take away Walter's innocence. You're brave!"

After regaining her composure, Shakira joked, "Just keeping it real."

Walter barked, "Benji Lopez, this isn't your business-just get out!"

"Why isn't it my business? Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, Mom, and the others all told me before they passed to look after you, reminding me to find you a good wife to share your life with.

"Twenty-three years, and finally, you're a real man. Do you know how long I've waited for this day?" Benji's eyes widened, and he exaggeratedly pretended to cry, wiping fake tears away in a way that made Shakira think he looked a bit ridiculous. Feeling mischievous, Shakira turned to Walter and couldn't resist asking, "So, is it true-this was your first time?"Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

's patience was wearing thin. "Brian, throw her into the backyard to feed the bears."

Shakira raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! Just kidding. But I meant what I said earlier."

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Walter's gaze pierced through her, his expression unreadable. "How did the Nelson family find out about the reason for m injury?"

Shakira shook her head. "They don't know about that. I learned about it from someone else?

She

She

a

up slowly, her playful demeanor dropping and a serious air settling in. Tm confident I can heal you just we me

Benji pulled her aside, skeptical too. "Ye can all talk a big game, but can you not get too carried away!

Ignoring Benji, Walter stared at Shakira. "If you're lying to me, your fate will be much worse than what I almost did cater ded. "Don't worry. I genuinely want to help you."

Shakira

"What's your condition?"

Shakira shrugged. "As I said, I had no choice but to resort to that back then. I also feel bad about taking advantage of your condition."

She hesitated for a moment, then added, "But there is one condition. For the best treatment results, I need to live with you"

Benji gasped dramatically. "Wow, so you're eager to move in together? Walter, you've hit the jackpot. Your future wife is totally into you." Walter and Shakira both fell silent.