The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress

Suspicious, she followed them… only to find that they had gone to the Green Dragon Manor, a place even she wasn't granted access to.

And then, as she continued following and noticed the lights on in the penthouse, realization struck.

Someone was living there.

Displeasure, anger, confusion—all of it bubbled to the surface at once, and now, Hera entering the penthouse like she belonged there, Silvia's emotions simmered dangerously just beneath the surface.

"I should be the one asking you—what are you doing here? This isn't a place just anyone can enter, especially not some pauper like you…" Silvia sneered, her voice sharp and mocking as she cast a disdainful glance at Hera seated in her wheelchair.

Her words echoed in the tense silence, and for a moment, no one spoke. But while Silvia basked in her own arrogance, everyone else exchanged subtle looks, ones filled with quiet disbelief and even pity. Because, unlike Silvia, they all knew the truth: that Hera was the true heiress.

And Silvia? Just a stand-in playing queen in a fantasy, she clearly started to believe herself.

To hear a temporary replacement call the real heir a pauper was laughable at best and pathetic at worst.

Hera, however, didn't even spare Silvia a proper look. In her eyes, Silvia was nothing more than a clown in a borrowed costume, drunk on temporary power. She knew her place deep down, but money, comfort, and illusion had made her forget.

"Amy, stand up," Hera said calmly, cutting through the tension like a blade.

She didn't raise her voice, nor did she acknowledge Silvia's insult. It wasn't worth the effort. Hera's presence alone was a quiet statement of authority. As she looked at the kneeling maid with calm eyes, a subtle sneer played at the corner of her lips.

'Money really does make some people forget who they are.'

Amy slowly stood up, her movements stiff from having knelt for so long. Hannah immediately stepped in to support her, gently helping her to her feet. After all, Amy wasn't young anymore, her knees and joints ached, and it was obvious she was in pain.

But the moment Silvia saw Amy obey Hera's command, and Hannah moving without hesitation to assist, her temper snapped.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, Silvia hurled the teacup in her hand to the floor. The delicate porcelain shattered on impact, sending shards skittering across the polished floor. A few pieces struck Amy and Hannah's calves, drawing small, stinging cuts.

"How dare you stand up?!" Silvia shrieked, her voice shrill with rage. "Do you take orders from just any Tom, Dick, or Harry now? Have you forgotten who your mistress is? You haven't even explained yourselves to me, and you think you're off the hook?"

She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at both women.

"Kneel. All of you!"

Then her fiery gaze snapped to Hera, her voice shaking with fury. "And you, how dare you trespass on my property?!"

Silvia then snapped her glare toward Hannah. "Call property management! Call Cindy! Get this pauper out of here—better yet, have her arrested for trespassing!" Her voice grated with fury, her composure unraveling as her anger took hold.

But Hera remained completely unbothered, her calm eyes fixed on Silvia. The woman was practically frothing, offended that her authority had been so casually dismissed, outraged that Amy had followed Hera's command rather than hers. But beneath that fury, Hera could see the real reason for her breakdown: being reminded that she wasn't truly in control.

Silvia had grown far too used to the illusion of power. Deep down, she knew her position was temporary and fragile. And the moment that truth resurfaced, when the Avery staff chose loyalty to the rightful heir over her, she lost her grip entirely.

Although Silvia still didn't know that Hera was the rightful heiress, just being ignored, having her commands openly disregarded while everyone immediately followed Hera's, was enough to drive her over the edge.

She was so consumed with asserting herself, she didn't even notice the three men standing silently behind Hera's wheelchair: Dave, Rafael, and Xavier, all watching her with cold eyes.

Usually, Silvia would've put on her most graceful act around men of their caliber. But now? She had dropped the mask completely, revealing an ugly, entitled side that clashed with the image she always tried so hard to maintain.

"What are you all standing around for?!" she screamed. "Move!"

But no one moved. No one called. No one knelt. The silence that followed her outburst only deepened her humiliation and rage she felt.

But seeing Silvia lose her composure like that, Hera could only let out a soft chuckle.

"Miss Silvia, was it? I suppose no one informed you... But I legally rented this penthouse for the entire year. The total cost? 9.6 billion. A hefty price, I agree, but it came with a lot of perks and privileges."

Hera's voice remained calm and unbothered, but each word hit like a slap. The truth was, the price of the penthouse wasn't just inflated to discourage anyone else from trying to rent it; it was also a strategic move.

While the property should have already been under her name, her grandfather had intentionally kept that detail hidden to protect her identity until the right time. And to avoid drawing attention or suspicion, he disguised it as a premium listing, reserved for someone wealthy enough to afford it, namely, the Avery heiress.

That was also why the Old Master had given Hera a starting allowance of 100 billion: he knew she'd gravitate toward this particular unit in Green Dragon Manor. It was no coincidence that Alfonse had recommended it.

Hera understood the unspoken message from her grandfather perfectly, and she responded in kind by paying the full amount without blinking.

The moment those words left her lips, silence filled the room. Not just Silvia, even Dave, Xavier, and Rafael were left stunned.

After all, they weren't talking about millions. Billions. An amount that could buy an entire mid-sized company, casually spent on a place to stay.

And to think that kind of money was spent on a one-year rental—without even blinking.

Dave, ever the outspoken one, couldn't hold back a loud gasp. He slapped a hand over his mouth, more for dramatic effect than anything else, and shot Silvia a smug, mocking smirk.

Only then did Silvia finally notice the three men standing silently behind Hera's wheelchair. Her face flushed crimson with embarrassment. She had completely lost her composure in front of them, shouting, throwing a tantrum, and acting like a shrew. Her earlier arrogance now made her look ridiculous.

The shame stung, but it didn't last long. Quickly, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Hera again. Something about this didn't add up.

Nine-point-six billion? For a year's rent?

'That's absurd...'

Even she, Silvia, the so-called "well-known heiress" of the Avery family, had never had that kind of money at her disposal. Her monthly allowance is capped at a million dollars.

Sure, it was more than enough to shop for luxury goods and treat her friends at five-star restaurants. But to casually drop nearly ten billion on rent? That was on an entirely different level.

And she'd just called Hera a pauper.

The sting of her own words came back to slap her in the face harder than any insult could. She was left choking on her own disbelief, her mouth slightly agape as she stared dumbly at Hera, not knowing whether to be angry, humiliated, or afraid.

Then Silvia suddenly burst into laughter, as if she'd just heard the most ridiculous joke of the century.

"You're joking, right?" she scoffed. "Is this because I called you a pauper? So now you're just spouting nonsense to save face? Come on—over nine billion to rent a single unit? Are you stupid?"

Her voice dripped with mockery, eyes full of disbelief as she shook her head, sneering. "No matter where you look, no property, not even in the most expensive districts, would charge that much for rent. For nine billion, you could buy a massive villa in a prime location, complete with a private pool, a multi-car garage, dozens of rooms, and a walk-in closet the size of a ballroom."

But while Silvia laughed like it was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard, Hera didn't even flinch. Her expression remained calm, unfazed, as if Silvia's outburst didn't deserve a reaction.

Because in truth, even Hera could understand how unbelievable the amount sounded. If she were in Silvia's shoes and had heard someone else say it, she probably wouldn't have believed it either.

But that was the difference between them.

Hera knew the truth, and Silvia, despite her name, was still stuck chasing illusions.

So, with a subtle gesture from Hera, Hannah immediately understood. She signaled another servant to assist Amy, then quickly ran upstairs to Hera's study to retrieve the contract. A few moments later, she returned, holding a red, gilded, folded cover—the official rental agreement.

At Hera's nod, Hannah opened it and presented it to Silvia. However, she was careful not to let Silvia touch it, keeping a firm grip on the folder.