# The Heir Apparent

Author: Evelyn Hart
Site: ReadNovelHub
Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/the-heir-apparent
Genre: Mafia-Dark-Romance

## World
You know he is a fraud, but exposing him could destroy everything you inherited.

## Tropes
- Dark Romance
- Revenge Romance
- Mafia & Dark Romance
- Rebirth & Revenge
- Mafia-Dark-Romance
- Rebirth-Revenge

## FAQ
### What is The Heir Apparent about?
You know he is a fraud, but exposing him could destroy everything you inherited.

### Who is the author of The Heir Apparent?
The Heir Apparent is written by Evelyn Hart. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub.

### Is The Heir Apparent a Dark Romance story?
Yes. The Heir Apparent is tagged for Dark Romance, Revenge Romance readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes.

### Can I read The Heir Apparent Chapter 1 for free?
Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Chapter 6+ unlocked via Ads or a $0.00 trial. Start The Heir Apparent on ReadNovelHub.

### What happens at the start of The Heir Apparent?
The man's hand is on my arm before I can move. I don't know him. Dark suit, good cut, hair slicked back like every other banker's son at the gala. But his grip is too familiar. Too certain. "Vivian," he says.

## Chapter 1 teaser
### Chapter 1: The Brother Who Came Back

The man's hand is on my arm before I can move. I don't know him. Dark suit, good cut, hair slicked back like every other banker's son at the gala. But his grip is too familiar. Too certain. "Vivian," he says. His voice cracks. "God. It's really you." I pull back. The ballroom is full. Three hundred guests, all of them watching the Ashford heiress get cornered by a stranger. The chandeliers throw too much light. The band is still playing, but I can feel the room starting to turn. "I'm sorry," I say. Professional smile. The one I've used a thousand times. "Have we met?" His face does something. Hurt, maybe. Or a good performance of it. "Viv. It's me." He's looking at me like I should know. Like I'm supposed to throw my arms around him and cry. Someone near the champagne fountain is staring. Mrs. Vanderling, probably already composing the story she'll tell at brunch. I take another step back. My heel catches on the edge of the stage. "I don't—" "It's Daniel." The name hits like a slap. I forget to breathe. The ballroom noise goes distant and wrong. Daniel. My brother Daniel, who drowned seven years ago in a lake outside Geneva. Whose body I watched them pull from the water, blue-lipped and still. This man is not my brother. "No," I say. It comes out too quiet. "No, you're not." But he's smiling now. Not smug. Tentative. Like he's the one who's nervous. "I know," he says. "I know it's impossible. But I'm here. I made it back." People are moving closer. I can hear the ripple of whispers starting, the way a room catches fire from a single spark. Someone says the name. Daniel Ashford. The golden boy. The one we lost. "You need to leave," I tell him. My voice is steady. That's good. I can hold steady. "Right now." "Vivian, please." He reaches for me again and I flinch. He stops

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