The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 80

Laughter echoed behind me. I shoved past a staff member, his mic in his hands.

Then another, staring open-mouthed as I barreled past like a wild animal in satin. Velvet curtains loomed ahead. I ducked under them, heart in my throat, finding myself plunged into quiet shadow.

Backstage. Behind the Ballroom, the real party just beyond the curtains. The light dimmed, the orchestra swelled somewhere beyond, and notes blooming through the air like a spring song.

I heard them enter the backstage area. They were loud, clumsy, and laughing.

“Where’d you go, mutt?” one of them cooed, sweet as poison.

I slipped deeper into the maze of wires and props, crouching low behind a stack of dusty set pieces—broken candelabras, fake columns, a velvet chaise that reeked of sweat and dust. I took a second to check myself.

Red ink streaked my arm like a wound. My dress was shredded at the knees, pearl threading unraveling like veins.

I gritted my teeth. ButI couldn’t stay, taking off again. At the curtain’s edge, I ducked into the narrow spiral stairwell, hauling myself up.

The steel groaned with every step, a creaking betrayal underfoot.

Higher. Then higher. Each footfall echoing through the rafters like a countdown.

Below, the girls were fanning out again.

“Check behind the stage bridge!”

“Up top! Maybe she climbed!”

The rigging swayed slightly as I reached the top of the lighting bridge—high above the ballroom. People flowed below like rippling water, oblivious. Laughing. Dancing.

The bridge was narrow, just a thin band of steel, low railings and lights on either side for the stage below.

I moved carefully now, one hand on the railing, the other lifting what was left of my dress. The air up here was hotter, thinner, and every breath felt like it had to fight for space.

Below, I could hear the girls snapping orders. Rustling. Giggling.

“Liiiooooraa,” Jessica’s voice sang out, syrupy and sick. “Come out, come out. You wanted attention, didn’t you?”

I bit down hard on the panic rising in my throat. I thought there would be an exit up here, maybe a ladder to the roof, a staff hallway, something. But all I found was the bridge, and a set of stairs back down on the far side.

Which meant—no way out.

Jessica’s voice came closer now, footsteps clanged against the stairs, but not just under me. They were coming from both sides.

I crouched, braced my feet on the beam, bracing.

The top of a head rose over the lip of the stairwell. Jessica. She spotted me, and her smile sharpened like a blade. “There you are!”

I launched myself at her. We collided, shoulder to shoulder, bone to bone, and stumbled across the narrow steel bridge. The whole thing swung.

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