The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 173

Chapter 173 Cookies Before War

Finished

The morning of the press conference dawned with the kind of a clear, sharp light that felt like a lie. Elera stood at the window of the library, staring out at the ocean as if it might have some answers. It didn’t. It just kept doing its thing, crashing and receding, completely indifferent to the fact that she was about to blow up her life for the third time in as many weeks.

“You know,” Clara said from behind her, sounding far too cheerful for seven in the morning, “most authors are happy with one big reveal per book. You’re going for some kind of record.”

Elera didn’t turn around. “It’s not a book. It’s my life.”

“Exactly. And your life is currently reading like a thriller written by a caffeine–addicted squirrel. In a good way. A very profitable, cinematic way.”

That made Elera smile, just a little. Clara had stayed at the cliff house for the past three days, acting as part publicist, part therapist, and full–time best friend. She’d also taken over the kitchen, declaring Simon’s nutritional shakes “an affront to joy” and baking an alarming number of cookies.

“I’m just saying,” Clara continued, coming to stand beside her, “you might want to pace yourself. After this, the only secret you’ll have left is whether or not you secretly run a competitive llama farm.”

“I don’t run a llama farm.”

“See? That’s exactly what a secret llama farmer would say.”

Elera finally turned to look at her. Clara was wearing bright purple pajamas covered in cartoon cats and holding two mugs of coffee. She handed one to Elera.

“Drink. You look like you’ve been planning a heist all night.”

“I’ve been planning a multi–billion dollar corporate announcement. It’s basically the same thing but with more spreadsheets.”

Clara sipped her coffee. “How’s our patient?”

“Stable. Better, actually. The inflammation markers are down to almost normal. The cellular regeneration is picking back up. He slept through the night without any crises.” Elera felt a familiar flutter of relict saying it out loud. “Simon’s with him now for the morning check.”

“Good. So your husband is not dying, your medical protocol is working again, and in a few hours you’re going to announce to the world that you’re also a fashion mogul. Just another Tuesday.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

“See? You’re already ahead of schedule.”

Elera took a long drink of coffee. It was perfect, exactly how she liked it. Clara had learned fast. “I’m scared,” she admitted quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“Of course you are. You’re about to hand your father, Xan, and Sarah a new weapon. They’re going to have a field day with this. ‘Secretive Billionaire Heiress Hides Fashion Empire. The headlines write themselves.”

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Chapter 173 Cookies Before War

“That’s not helping.”

Finished

“I’m not here to help you feel better. I’m here to make sure you do the right thing even though it’s terrifying.” Clara bumped her shoulder gently against Elera’s. “And the right thing is telling your story before they can twist it. You know that.”

Elera did know. It was the same logic that had pushed her onto the stage at the literary gala. Control the story or someone else will. But knowing something and feeling it were two different beasts, and the beast in her chest was currently doing somersaults.

“What if people hate it? What if they decide I’m not a brilliant multi–hyphenate, I’m just a rich girl playing dress–up with Daddy’s money?”

“First of all, you’re playing dress–up with your own money, which you earned by being a genius. Second, who cares what people think? The people who matter already know you’re amazing. The rest are just background noise.”

“Background noise with internet access and very strong opinions.”

“Welcome to the twenty–first century. It’s terrible. Have another cookie.” Clara produced a chocolate chip cookie from the pocket of her pajamas like a magician.

Elera stared at it. “Do you just carry baked goods on your person at all times?”

“Only when my best friend is having multiple existential crises before breakfast. It’s a new policy. I’m thinking of making it a company–wide thing.”

Elera took the cookie. It was warm, as if Clara had somehow been keeping it at the perfect temperature in her pocket. She took a bite and closed her eyes. It was stupidly good.

“See?” Clara said, sounding satisfied. “Sugar solves everything. Temporarily.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the waves and eating cookies. It was so normal it almost felt surreal. Like they were just two friends having a sleepover, not two women preparing to launch a media hurricane.

“I should go get ready,” Elera said eventually, brushing cookie crumbs from her sweater.

“The car comes in an hour. You have time. Have you decided what you’re wearing?”

“I was thinking about the black pantsuit. The severe one that makes me look like I’m about to fire

someone.”

“Perfect. Power dressing. I like it. Just don’t accessorize with any more secret identities. We’re saving those for later.”

Elera laughed, and it felt good. “No more secrets after this. I swear. I’m all out.”

“Famous last words,” Clara singsonged as Elera left the library.

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Chapter 173 Cookies Before War

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