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One month before the end, her family chose violence. Hurt their girl? You won’t live to regret it...⚡🔥💀 ---Chapter 1 Reborn !!! Sloane Walker shot upright in bed, her eyes snapping open. The room around her was pitch black and completely silent. Using the pale moonlight, she carefully looked around, and when she recognized the familiar yet strange room, her pupils widened. Is this my house? Sloane grabbed her phone and froze when she saw the time on the screen. July 4, 2123, 11:14 p.m. I went back to one month before the apocalypse? I was just fighting off a group of looters, and then there was a massive earthquake...She turned her head toward the window and noticed a few middle-aged men sitting under a streetlight yards away, wearing T-shirts and shorts, playing cards. Every summer, they did this—coming out around 9:00 p.m. and playing until midnight before heading home. Sloane had seen this scene many times before but never had it shocked her like this. A memory suddenly flashed through her mind, and she quickly raised her phone and switched on the camera, aiming it at the men. She recognized them immediately. Before the apocalypse, during a late night of binge-watching, she had witnessed them mutate and tear into each other. At the time, she thought they had gotten into a fight while playing cards. When she saw them lying motionless on the ground, she called an ambulance and didn't think much more about it after they were taken away. She never expected that moment to be the opening act of the apocalypse. She zoomed in on the video and saw one man holding a card suddenly leap at the closest person beside him. After a scream, the group began clawing and wrestling with each other. The footage lasted for over two minutes, and in the end, all of them lay motionless on the ground. Just as Sloane was about to stop recording, her breath caught in her throat. One of the bodies, which should have been dead—or at least not able to mutate for several more days—slowly crawled up from the ground. His movements were stiff as he staggered toward her building, but after a few yards, he collapsed again. Ring! Apocalypse Awakening System activated! Sloane had just lowered her phone when a strange voice sounded beside her ear. Before she could react, a line of text appeared out of thin air in front of her. "Do you accept the beginner awakening mission?" What is this? I never encountered this in my last life. After a brief pause, Sloane immediately accepted, and in the next second, she was transported to a completely unfamiliar place. There stood a small wooden cabin, a water well, and a vegetable patch roughly ten square feet in size. Is this the legendary storage dimension? In the apocalypse, anything strange could happen. In her previous life, Sloane had also awakened an ability, but it wasn't a storage dimension—it was invisibility—so she accepted this situation quickly. Excited, she immediately opened the beginner mission panel. "Prepare survival supplies for the apocalypse (0/5,000 dollars)" Is it telling me to start stocking up? Sloane felt thrilled and quickly left the storage dimension to check her room for anything suitable. Her eyes landed on the computer on the desk. If she remembered correctly, her brother Edwin Walker bought it for her just last week, and it had cost exactly 5,000 dollars. With a thought, Sloane brought the computer into the storage dimension. The red text on the mission panel turned green. "Prepare survival supplies for the apocalypse (28,500/5,000 dollars) Completed. Reward: 50 square feet of emergency preparation space." Sloane stared at the number in shock. 28,500? Edwin clearly told me he just grabbed it on the way home from work and only spent 5,000 dollars. How could this be? Understanding hit her all at once, and her eyes slowly turned red. After taking a deep breath, she continued with the remaining beginner missions and started moving more items into the storage dimension. An ergonomic office chair, 8,600 dollars. A couch, 37,000 dollars. A TV, 23,000 dollars. A trash can, 66 dollars. Socks, 1 dollar. One dollar? Sloane frowned at the socks she had just brought in, and when she realized they belonged to Edwin, she immediately tossed them back out without hesitation. Little by little, Sloane figured out the system's pattern. Early on, it was basically 1,000 dollars' worth of items for every ten square feet of storage space. She didn't know if the price would go up later, but as long as she kept throwing things in, her storage dimension would keep expanding. She also discovered that as long as the item wasn't a living creature, it could stay in perfect condition forever inside the storage dimension. The ice cream she had brought in an hour ago and forgotten to eat was still rock hard where she left it. This is the perfect place to survive and hide during the apocalypse... If only... The light in Sloane's eyes slowly dimmed as she thought of her parents next door, Felix Walker and Natasha Morris, and her brother Edwin. Her fists clenched tightly. If only they could come in too. Even though she had returned to the past, she was now fully capable of protecting herself and them, but she couldn't guarantee what unexpected dangers might appear later. No matter what happened this time, she would never let them leave her side. After several hours of nonstop work, Sloane had almost emptied her entire apartment. The small wooden cabin inside the storage dimension had also upgraded into a dirt house and then into a brick house. Just as Sloane was so exhausted that she wanted to crawl back into bed for some sleep, the system's alert sounded again in her ear. "Congratulations on completing all beginner missions. Reward: one family member slot. Please bind a family member within 24 hours!" Sloane froze in place. Can other people enter too? She immediately left the storage dimension and headed next door to find them. She lived in a top-floor duplex with roughly 3,200 square feet of living space, along with a 1,100-square-foot rooftop garden out front. The building was designed with one unit per elevator. The top floor of the neighboring unit was where Felix, Natasha, and Edwin lived. Between the two rooftop gardens was a low wall about five feet tall that couldn't support any weight, so Sloane decided to tear it down and replace it with a small iron door that could be opened or closed. That way, she could go next door to eat every day while still keeping her own private living space. "Sloane, are you awake? I made your favorite beef sliders and oatmeal. They're still warm. Eat first before you sleep again, okay? Ah!" Natasha, who had come up the stairs to call Sloane for breakfast, turned pale when she saw the empty living room. Did someone break in? She rushed downstairs, and when she saw Sloane pushing the door open, tears immediately fell. "Are you okay? Let me take a look!" Natasha spun around Sloane twice and only relaxed after confirming she wasn't hurt. Hearing Natasha's scream next door, Felix and Edwin also rushed over. They were just as shocked when they saw the emptied living room. "Dad, Mom, Edwin." Sloane's voice trembled. She couldn't even remember how many years it had been since she last saw them. In her previous life, they had all died protecting her during the apocalypse. She had been left alone and survived for another ten years, until that world-ending earthquake sent her back to this moment. She threw herself into Natasha's arms and hugged her tightly, crying with joy. Natasha thought Sloane had been frightened by the burglary and quickly tried to comfort her. Nearby, Edwin and Felix stood awkwardly, both at a loss. One wanted to hug his daughter, and the other wanted to pat his sister's head, but pride kept them from moving. Chapter 2 Family Member Slot Sloane had survived alone in the apocalypse for ten years, so she had long forgotten what it felt like to cry. Back then, she lost the protection of her parents and brother. Her home was taken, her food was stolen, and she had to keep running just to stay alive, all while avoiding men with dangerous intentions. In the end, when she had nowhere left to run, she was forced to kill someone. Once there was a first time, there was a second. From trembling hands to complete numbness, she killed more and more people, and fewer people dared to mess with her. By then, her name alone inspired fear—a walking grim reaper. Sloane lifted her head to look at Natasha, wiped away her tears, and forced a gentle smile as she spoke softly. "Mom, don't worry. No one broke in. I'm fine." "If no one broke in, then what happened here? Sloane, don't be scared. Come stay at our place tonight," Natasha said. After speaking, she turned around and smacked Felix twice on the arm. "This is all your fault! Look at the terrible door you bought for Sloane! How could a thief get in so easily?" "It's all my fault!" Felix said, nodding again and again with a frown. He had given up buying a house before because he worried about safety, but he never thought that even a top-floor unit could get broken into. He decided he would hire someone later to install an electric security system on the door to stop anyone from prying it open again. "There really wasn't a thief," Sloane explained. "I moved the stuff myself." She stopped Edwin from calling the police, then looked at them seriously. "Dad, Mom, Edwin—do you trust me?" Felix, Natasha, and Edwin didn't understand why she suddenly asked that, but after exchanging looks, they all nodded without hesitation. "Then if I say the apocalypse is about to arrive, would you still believe me?" Edwin frowned. "Did you have a nightmare?" "No." Sloane took out her phone and pulled up the video from last night. "Watch this." Felix, Natasha, and Edwin leaned in. After watching, their reactions were all different. Felix said, "Those guys were fighting pretty hard. No wonder I heard police cars and an ambulance this morning." Natasha added, "They play cards there every day. People get short-tempered as they get older, so arguments are normal." Edwin still didn't believe it. "This doesn't prove anything." "Then what if I say I have a storage dimension?" Sloane and Edwin locked eyes. They were five years apart, and Sloane had basically been raised by Edwin since she was little. Natasha used to be a surgeon and was always busy at the hospital, often coming home late at night. Felix ran businesses. He started by selling fruit, then opened restaurants, and later moved into education centers. He ran many kinds of businesses. As the money increased, so did his workload. After their living conditions improved, Natasha quit her job at the hospital and stayed home to take care of the two kids, and things slowly got better. Before that, Sloane had always been with Edwin. He washed her clothes, fed her meals, played games with her, and even skipped school with her sometimes. Because of that, Edwin and Sloane had the smallest age gap in their relationship. "Mom, I need to tell you first," Sloane said. "I'm about to take you to a place. You'll suddenly arrive there, and Dad and Edwin will suddenly disappear, but don't be scared." Natasha reached out and touched Sloane's forehead. "Do you have a fever?" "I don't." Sloane held her hand, her expression serious and calm. "Are you ready?" Natasha looked at her, hesitated, then slowly nodded. In the next second, both of them vanished from where they stood. !!! Edwin sucked in a sharp breath, while Felix's face changed color as he stumbled back two steps. "Edwin, where are your mom and Sloane?" Inside the space, Natasha shivered in fear when the scene around her suddenly changed into a strange place. Ding! "Binding family member information!" Sloane listened to the system's voice and looked at the panel that appeared in front of her. It clearly displayed all of Natasha's information, but Natasha herself couldn't see anything at all. Name: Natasha Morris. Gender: Female. Age: 47. Height: 5'4". Blood type: B. Occupation: Former surgeon. Relationship: Mother and daughter. Loyalty: Will never betray. After quickly scanning all the information, Sloane pressed the bind button without hesitation, and the system sent another message. "Members can only enter or exit together with the host. The host may unbind any member in the storage dimension at will. Once a member leaves the system, all memories related to the storage dimension will be completely erased." This was basically a cheat-level ability. Sloane chuckled softly and closed the panel. "Mom, let's go out. If we stay too long, they'll definitely worry." After looking around the small house, Natasha quickly noticed that many items from their home were missing. She nodded stiffly, then grabbed Sloane's hand and left the storage dimension with her. "Do you believe me now?" After helping Natasha sit down on the bed, Sloane turned back to Edwin and Felix. Their expressions looked grim. After a short silence, Edwin asked in a low voice, "How long until the apocalypse?" "One month, but things could change. It might come earlier," Sloane said. "Edwin, do you remember those zombie movies you showed me before?" "I do. So, is the apocalypse like that?" "No," Sloane replied. "It's worse than that." The room fell silent, and no one spoke again. A few minutes later, Edwin called his company to ask for time off. He had just finished a major project and had been busy for over a year, so his unused vacation time had piled up to nearly three months. It was a slow transition period between projects, and since he had been the main person in charge, the company quickly approved his leave and told him to rest well before returning to work. After hanging up, Edwin looked at Sloane. "So, what do we need to prepare in advance?" Felix and Natasha also sat there, watching Sloane seriously and waiting for her answer. Seeing their reactions made Sloane feel relieved. They had always trusted and spoiled her without conditions. "In the first three years before things stabilize, the weather will be extreme," Sloane said. "The four seasons will still exist, but summer temperatures can reach 140 to 160 degrees Fahrenheit, and winter can drop to minus 80 or even minus 90 degrees. There will also be power and water outages, and zombies everywhere. So first, we need to stock up on food, clothes, and medicine." Edwin nodded thoughtfully. "But in those first three years, our biggest enemy won't be zombies, right?" "That's right," Sloane said, nodding. "It's people." When food runs short, human nature shows its true face. She told them how, in her last life, neighbors had climbed up the fire stairs to the rooftop, jumped across to their terrace, broke into their home, stole their food, and then drove them out. As Sloane spoke, Felix, Natasha, and Edwin's expressions slowly turned cold. "Edwin, let's go. We're heading to the building supply store right now!" Felix said, jumping to his feet in anger. He had worked his way up from the bottom as a street vendor. Even though he had softened a lot after having a daughter, he would never allow anyone to bully his family. This time, whoever comes, I'll deal with them one by one. If they're not afraid to die, then let them try. Chapter 3 Shopping Frenzy "Dad, I'll handle the rooftop," Edwin said. "You and Mom go to the market. You're better at picking fresh meat, vegetables, and fruit. Sloane and I can't really tell what's good." "We should split up," he added. "That way we'll be faster." "Alright, it's settled!" Felix said. "Honey, let's go. We'll change clothes and head out!" Felix pulled Natasha to her feet. Even after they walked away, Sloane could still hear him cursing under his breath. "How dare they bully my daughter. I won't let them get away with it!" After their figures disappeared, Edwin turned back to Sloane. The two of them locked eyes, and he asked the question he had been holding back. "How long did the apocalypse last?" "I don't know," Sloane replied. "But from what I saw, it didn't end even after 20 years." At least, it still wasn't over when she died, and that was already year 15. Edwin asked again, "Then how many years did you survive alone?" Sloane hadn't expected that question. Edwin was quick-minded. Thinking back to her reaction when she saw them, and adding in that mysterious storage dimension, he had already guessed part of the truth. She must not have seen them for a very long time. Even though she tried to act calmer around them, Edwin could still see it. There was a sharpness and toughness in her eyes that only came from facing life and death. Even when the family was poor and crowded into a small house, Sloane had never been mistreated. Felix and Natasha never expected her to achieve great success. As long as she grew up to be a good person, happy and healthy, that was enough. Edwin thought the same way. They could earn money themselves. She didn't need to suffer. As long as she didn't go down the wrong path, they would make sure she never lacked food or clothes. But in the end, they had left Sloane alone. Edwin sighed, stepped forward, and gently patted her head. "This time, I'll stay with you until the very end." "Okay," Sloane said. "Let's eat first," Edwin added. "After we're full, we'll go buy supplies." "Okay." Sloane truly hadn't eaten sliders this good in a very long time. Memories of hunger from her past life came rushing back, and she ate over a dozen in one go. Edwin only stopped her because he was afraid she would hurt her stomach. After eating, they went downstairs and split up again. Edwin headed to the building supply store to work on the rooftop, while Sloane went to buy other needed supplies. Sloane drove to the largest foreign-owned high-end members-only warehouse store in the city, ready to start her "zero-dollar shopping." She didn't care about moral rules. The apocalypse was coming, and everyone's bottom line was simple—stay alive. She had thought about going overseas to do this, but she was worried the apocalypse might arrive early. The men who died playing cards downstairs were clearly infected. Since this had already happened, it meant the apocalypse could officially begin at any time. She didn't dare leave her family for long. The moment she walked through the store's entrance, the system's voice rang out in her mind again. "Surveillance shielding activated. The host will no longer appear on camera." Sloane smiled slightly. This system was pretty user-friendly. She needed far too many supplies. If she bought them normally, it would take countless trips. She also didn't want to be noticed, followed, or dragged into trouble. With the system's help, silent zero-dollar shopping was the best choice. She pushed a cart to the second floor. Rows of metal shelves were neatly stacked with all kinds of products, and staff members on the main aisle were offering free samples to customers. The shelves were nearly three feet deep, packed full because there weren't many workers restocking. When Sloane reached her arm deep into the shelves, even the security cameras in the distance couldn't see what she was doing. Sloane headed straight for the food section. She grabbed 50 boxes of rice, each weighing 40 pounds, and casually sent them into the storage dimension. Next was flour. High-gluten, low-gluten, and all-purpose flour, each box weighing 30 pounds. She took 50 boxes straight from an entire shelf. Then came grains. Black beans, lentils, kidney beans, oatmeal, brown rice, wild rice, risotto, and peanuts. Each box weighed 4 pounds, and she took 20 boxes of each. Next came cooking oils. Vegetable oil, corn oil, olive oil, and canola oil, each in 1-gallon jugs. She took 30 jugs of each and stored them away. It was a weekday, and it was still early at 9:00 a.m., so there weren't many shoppers. No one noticed anything strange. Sloane moved to the seasoning aisle and took 20 bottles each of soy sauce and vinegar. For spices—cardamom, cinnamon, red pepper flakes, anise seed, bay leaves, fennel seeds, black pepper, cloves, and more—she grabbed 50 packs of each. For salt, both iodized and non-iodized, each case had ten 5-pound bags. Sloane took about 70 cases in total. There was still some time before the apocalypse arrived, so she couldn't completely empty the store. Other people still needed supplies too. Also, she didn't know the current storage limit of the space. She needed variety more than just filling it with one thing, or she wouldn't be able to store other items later. Just as she thought about this, the system's voice sounded in her head again. Ding! "Limited-time double reward mission triggered! For one hour, every 1,000 dollars' worth of stored supplies will expand the storage dimension by 20 square feet!" The corners of Sloane's mouth lifted slightly. She sped up and walked to the refrigerated section. In front of the staff, she began tossing high-quality meat into her cart. Pork ribs, 3 pounds per pack, 120 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,200 dollars. Pork shoulder, 3 pounds per pack, 80 dollars each. Ten packs, 800 dollars. Pork tenderloin, 3 pounds per pack, 75 dollars each. Ten packs, 750 dollars. Pork trotters, 3 pounds per pack, 90 dollars each. Ten packs, 900 dollars. Black pork ribs, 2 pounds per pack, 110 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,100 dollars. Pork cartilage, 3 pounds per pack, 110 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,100 dollars. Black pork spare ribs, 1.5 pounds per pack, 130 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,300 dollars. Sliced beef rolls, 2 pounds per pack, 130 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,300 dollars. Steaks, 1.5 pounds per pack, 180 dollars each. Ten packs, 1,800 dollars. Lamb skewers, 1 pound per bag, 100 dollars each. Ten bags, 1,000 dollars. A full cart of meat totaled 10,250 dollars. It wasn't that she didn't want more. The freezer was simply out of stock. The staff assumed she was a bulk buyer. Since there was no purchase limit posted, they couldn't stop her and could only restock helplessly. Sloane pushed her cart to a hidden corner of the shelves and used the system to block the cameras. When no one was around, she transferred everything into the storage dimension, then headed to the appliance section. Even though water and power would go out during the apocalypse, her storage dimension had both. Appliances would still wear out over time. This time, with early preparation, they would have generators and solar panels, making small appliances worth stocking up on. Robot vacuums cost 3,600 dollars each. Sloane took three, totaling 10,800 dollars. Air purifiers were 4,000 dollars each. These were important, so she took every one she could see—ten in total, 40,000 dollars. Dishwashers were next. She picked the most expensive ones at 26,000 dollars each and took two, totaling 52,000 dollars. Bladeless fan and cooler combos cost 3,800 dollars each. She put five into the cart, adding 19,000 dollars. She decided not to take air conditioners, since they already had them at home and could move them into the storage dimension later if needed. PS5 consoles cost 4,000 dollars each. She grabbed two for Edwin, totaling 8,000 dollars. Drones cost 5,000 dollars each. There were six on the shelf, and she took them all, totaling 30,000 dollars. After leaving the appliance section, Sloane's total shopping spree had reached 159,800 dollars. Chapter 4 Matching the Tycoon's Level of Effort Sloane quickened her pace and stopped short when she spotted the storage containers. Her eyes lit up. Her storage dimension preserved food in its freshest state. If she pre-made meals during her free time, packed them into these containers, and stacked them on the shelves, she could pull one out to eat later. Efficient and effortless. A 12-piece container set cost 200 dollars. She grabbed ten boxes, totaling 2,000 dollars. A seven-piece knife set was 700 dollars per set. 10 sets would be 7,000. Toilet paper came in bags of 32 rolls, 280 dollars per bag. She bought 10, spending around 2,800 dollars. Flushable wet wipes, eight packs per bag, 80 dollars each. A godsend, anyone who'd used them knew their worth. Sloane took 20 bags, 1,600 dollars. Heavy-duty trash bags came 360 to a box at 70 dollars each. She took a hundred boxes, totaling 7,000 dollars. The total came up to 20,400 dollars. ... In less than half an hour, Sloane had swept through 190,450-dollar worth of goods. According to the System's exchange rate, her storage dimension should have expanded by 4099.9 square feet already. Bubbling with excitement, Sloane found a secluded, empty corner and slipped into her dimension. The supplies she'd just scanned were piled neatly on the open ground, and the small house she'd stayed up all night upgrading had transformed into a two-story villa. Let's keep going! She was determined to match the effort level of those tycoons in the novels. The kind who woke up on a massive bed and needed to drive to their ensuite bathroom. She was going to have a super-sized, utterly extravagant mega-mansion! Exiting the dimension with a spring in her step, Sloane headed downstairs to the first floor, starting in the cosmetics and skincare section. Post-apocalyptic sunlight was brutally harsh. People would get scorched dark, looking like they lived permanently under an equatorial sky. While a tan was beautiful too, she didn't want that for herself. The wealthy socialites certainly didn't either. Sunscreen would become a hard currency later on, perfect for trading other supplies. She cleared the shelf. It was 200 bucks per tube, so 70 of them would be 1,400 dollars. Large-size hand cream, 180 per tube, 50 tubes, totaling 9,000 dollars. Toothbrushes came six per box at 120 dollars each. She took 20 boxes, totaling 2,400 dollars. As for toothpaste, it came with 160 dollars per set for six tubes. Ten sets, 1,600 dollars. Just as Sloane's gaze landed on the shelf of sanitary pads, she overheard two employees walking in the distance, whispering. "What's going on today? Why are so many shelves empty?" "No idea. I swear everything was stocked this morning. How did it all sell out so fast?" "Probably another group of resellers buying in bulk. So annoying." Hearing their conversation, Sloane smiled slightly and moved on to the first-floor fresh produce and fruit section. Since staff were actively restocking there, it wasn't the best moment for this "reseller" to make a move. The produce section was almost empty of customers. Here, fruits were sold by the box or case, stacked against the walls, with hundreds of cases of each variety. Sloane took 30 cases of each type, hardly a dent in the overall inventory. She simply needed to act like a regular shopper, discreetly placing her hand on items while "selecting" them. In the blink of an eye, the goods vanished into her dimension. Even someone with perfect vision would just think their eyes were playing tricks. Moreover, Sloane's observation skills, honed from years of solitary survival in the apocalypse, were top-notch. There was no chance of being caught. Grapes: 50 dollars per crate. 30 crates, 1,500 dollars. Watermelons: 60 dollars per crate. 30 crates equals 1,800 dollars. Blueberries: 70 dollars per box. 30 boxes, 2,100 dollars. Kiwis: 300 dollars per case. 30 cases, 3,000 dollars. Cherries: 200 dollars per case. 30 cases, 6,000 dollars. Apples: 100 dollars per case. 30 cases, 3,000 dollars. Bananas: 80 dollars per case. 30 cases, 2,400 dollars. By the time she left the fruit section, her hour was almost up. But just ahead was the beverage and liquor aisle. Another goldmine. The premium cognac was locked in cabinets, requiring special purchase qualifications. But other top-shelf whiskeys and vodkas? Money could buy those. Her dad liked to drink occasionally. Most importantly, alcohol could be used for sterilization and disinfection in a pinch, making it indispensable for the coming times. She swept through the aisle, collecting over a hundred grand's worth of alcohol before finally leaving, completely satisfied. When the one-hour limit ended, she'd stockpiled 403,250 dollars worth of supplies, converting it into another 8675 square feet of space. Sloane casually tossed a few more items into her conspicuously empty shopping cart, checked out, and headed for her next target. Blancova was a big city, with several other large, foreign-member wholesale clubs just like this one. And Sloane, the ultimate shopaholic in her past life, happened to hold membership cards for all of them. She had to visit every single one. Fairness was key. At the next store, Sloane focused on sanitary products and family planning supplies. She didn't need the latter herself, but they'd be incredibly valuable for bartering later. Plenty of rich people would be desperate for them. Then she continued stockpiling the most fundamental and crucial supplies: pasta, flour, cooking oil, salt, water, and seasonings. She left home at 8 a.m. and returned at 8 p.m., a solid 12 hours. Sloane had acquired three grand's worth of goods without spending a cent. While these high-end clubs had inflated prices, the quality was guaranteed. Since her dimension's expansion was calculated based on the listed price, she wasn't losing out at all. Tens of thousands of pounds of food now sat safely stored inside her dimension. Sloane felt a deep, comforting sense of security. When she entered the house, Edwin and their parents were already back. They'd been worried about her safety and were even planning to go look for her. Felix and Natasha had visited several markets, buying about 200 pounds of meat and 100 pounds of eggs, along with some durable, low-profile vegetables such as potatoes and cabbages. Edwin had already had contractors come to measure the rooftop and scheduled the installation of a glass greenhouse and security mesh for a week later. "You were out all day and this is all you brought back?" Edwin was lounging on the sofa, eyeing the four large plastic bags in Sloane's hands with open disdain. She rolled her eyes at him and plopped down on the other end of the couch. "What do you know? You don't flaunt wealth. Everything's in the dimension." "How much did you spend? I'll reimburse you." "No need. I got it all for free." To demonstrate, Sloane made her car keys vanish and reappear in her hand. The sight made Edwin and their parents visibly uncomfortable. "Sloane... Taking things without paying isn't right, is it?" After hesitating for a long moment, Natasha voiced her concern. Sloane had expected this. In normal circumstances, this would be theft. Not just unethical, it was criminal. By today's haul alone, she'd be looking at a life sentence. But the circumstances were anything but normal now. "Mom, I know what you're worried about. But even if I don't take these things, in a month at most, they'll be submerged by floodwaters. Ordinary people won't be able to go out and gather supplies. The apocalypse will come early. All I want is to prepare decades' worth of supplies for us before it arrives, without anyone noticing. Nothing else matters right now."

Her adoptive parents used her design talent to make a fortune for twenty years. But once their biological daughter was found, she was framed and expelled from home. Unexpectedly, her supposedly poor biological parents turned out to be the richest people in the city. She became the daughter of a top wealthy family and was spoiled by them! ===== "Brenna, why must it come to this? Yes, we've found our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. You know our family's wealth--taking care of one more person isn't a burden. If you ask me, you should stay. Your mom and I will treat you no differently than before." At the Barrett family's residence in Shirie, in the cramped, airless attic on the third floor, Brenna Barrett was packing her belongings. Meanwhile, the grand living room on the first floor buzzed with conversation, guests swirling glasses of champagne as they exchanged pleasantries. A towering banner with the words "Welcome Home, Beloved Daughter" stretched across the entrance. "But if you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. Still, your family is barely scraping by. I doubt they can even send a car to pick you up. Take this money--at least let it cover your travel expenses." Alec Barrett, Brenna's adoptive father, stood before her, an envelope in his hand. He set it down gently before Brenna, his face lined with feigned reluctance. Brenna's eyes flicked to the slim envelope. She was already certain it held no more than a thousand dollars. Without a hint of hesitation, she pushed it back toward Alec, her expression cold. "I don't need it. My parents have already sent a car for me." She scoffed inwardly. What a laughable attempt to make her stay. Persuading her to stay while already offering her travel money? The Barrett family had taken her in when she was barely past her second birthday, a replacement for the daughter Ruby Barrett had lost--a child stolen from the hospital the day she was born. Drowning in grief, Ruby had grasped at the idea of adoption, convincing herself it would ease the ache of her loss. But Brenna had never been a daughter for the Barrett family in anything more than name. She had spent her childhood in hand-me-downs from discount racks, scraping by on leftovers while serving as a servant in the Barrett household. When she had gotten older, Alec had stumbled upon her natural flair for design. Even her casual sketches outshone those of seasoned professionals, their market value undeniable. That was when everything changed. The Barrett family had stopped her from going to school. She had become their hidden asset, locked away to draft blueprints for car parts and even entire vehicles. They knew exactly how much of their wealth was earned by her. Without Brenna, they would have never broken into Shirie's elite circles, never had the means to throw this lavish welcome party for their biological daughter, with influential figures from all walks of life attending. And now that their fortune had just begun to flourish, they didn't want to keep Brenna anymore. The Barretts were eager to kick her out of the family, their selfishness laid bare. Alec sighed and shoved the envelope into Brenna's bag. He said, "They've sent a car to pick you up? I find that hard to believe. I looked into your biological family. Your parents have two sons, and your only uncle is bedridden, unable to care for himself. They live in a struggling village--barely making ends meet. They don't have the luxury to come pick you up. You've been living in comfort here, spending freely. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of hardship? Just take the money..." Brenna pulled the envelope out of her bag and placed it on the table with quiet finality. "Goodbye." She didn't notice Isabella Barrett, Alec and Ruby's biological daughter, slipping something into the side pocket of her backpack. Without another glance, Brenna hoisted her black backpack over one shoulder and strode downstairs, leaving the Barretts behind. Ruby, watching Brenna disappear down the stairs, clenched her jaw. "Look at that! She showed me no gratitude at all. I housed and fed her for twenty years, and she didn't have a single word of thanks before leaving me? Someone like that is bound to end up begging in the streets!" Isabella looped her arm through Ruby's, her voice soft, almost soothing. "Mom, don't let her get to you. She never even finished school and was thrown into social circles at ten. How could she possibly have proper manners? She's walking away from a privileged life now--she'll be lucky if she doesn't starve. It's understandable if she's in a foul mood. Let me go see her off." Ruby frowned, grabbing Isabella's wrist to stop her. "Why bother? She's ungrateful. She doesn't deserve it." "Mom," Isabella said, her smile sweet, "since I came back, Brenna has treated me well. This might be the last time we ever see each other. It's only right that I say goodbye to her properly." She gave the jewelry box in her hand a little shake, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I have a parting gift for her." With that, she hurried after Brenna, Alec and Ruby following behind. "Brenna!" Isabella called out, her voice warm and sweet as she lightly jogged forward. "You're leaving so quickly? I haven't given you the gift I got for you." She extended her palm, revealing a square red box. Inside lay a white jade bracelet, its surface smooth and luminous. It was undoubtedly of high quality. Brenna gave it a brief glance. She recognized the bracelet's good quality--it was probably worth a decent sum. Her voice was cold as she said, "No, thanks. You keep it." Isabella's expression didn't falter as she nudged the box into Brenna's hand. "You should take it. I spent over a hundred thousand on this bracelet. If things ever get tough, you can sell it for emergencies. It could come in handy someday." Before Brenna could refuse again, Isabella snapped the box shut and tucked it into Brenna's backpack herself. Just then, a flustered maid rushed over and exclaimed, "Miss Barrett, terrible news! The engagement necklace Mr. Barton gifted you is missing!" Chapter 2 Accused Of Stealing Isabella froze mid-motion upon hearing that, the jewelry box still clutched in her fingers as she slipped it into Brenna's backpack. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you just say? That gemstone necklace is a gift from Jordy. It costs one million and eight hundred thousand! It has ten top-tier gems, each hand-selected. I left it on the table. How could it just vanish? Are you sure you checked properly?" Brenna observed the unfolding scene intently, her expression impassive. She could already see the setup, the neatly arranged trap. The servant's name was Sadie Brown. Her face went ghostly white, her hands visibly trembling. "Miss Barrett, I searched everywhere--every corner, every drawer--but it's gone. Could someone have taken it?" With that, Sadie's eyes landed on Brenna, suspicion darkening her expression. She didn't need to say it outright--her eyes did the accusing for her. Isabella shot her a sharp look. "What are you staring at? Just because Brenna's real family is poor doesn't mean she'd resort to stealing. Anyway, is anything else missing from my room?" Sadie hesitated, then swallowed hard. "Yes... The design plans you drew a few days ago. They're gone too." A strange glint flickered in Sadie's eyes. Without warning, she strode toward Brenna and yanked at a thin chain peeking out from her backpack. Isabella gasped, her shock perfectly timed as she took the necklace from Sadie's hand. "Brenna," she murmured, feigning hurt, "how did the engagement necklace Jordy gave me end up in your bag?" She clutched the piece, looking disappointed. "If you needed money, why not just ask Dad? He has supported you all these years--he wouldn't mind giving you more money. But stealing? This would break Mom's and Dad's hearts." At that moment, Alec and Ruby walked over. Alec scowled, disappointment carving deep lines into his face. He exhaled sharply, his tone laced with disapproval as he said, "I offered you money, and you turned it down--only to do this? If you needed help, you could have said something instead of resorting to this disgraceful behavior. This is really shameful! Why did you do this?" Ruby's temper flared instantly. "She must have thought the money was too little! What else could it be? A thousand for travel expenses wasn't enough for her, so she helped herself to something more valuable. One million and eight hundred thousand--her real parents' entire family couldn't make that much in a lifetime!" Isabella reached for Ruby's hand, a pained expression settling on her face. "Mom, please stop. If you keep saying such things, how will Brenna ever face anyone again? I don't think she did it on purpose--maybe she took it by mistake." Alec and Ruby remained silent, though the disdain in their eyes was clear. Inwardly, they had already written Brenna off as a thief. Isabella managed a gentle smile, but a flicker of triumph danced in her eyes as she glanced at the gathering guests around them. This was perfect. With Brenna marked as a thief, she would never find help from Shirie's upper circles. The Barrett family's influence would be forever out of her reach. Isabella turned to Brenna. "Brenna, I'd give you anything, but not this necklace. It's Jordy's engagement gift to me. I know it must be hard--watching him choose me when you were supposed to be engaged to him. But feelings can't be forced, right? Jordy and I love each other deeply. Please, don't come between us. If you need money, I'll give you all my jewelry, okay? Just not this one." As Isabella spoke, tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks like she had just suffered a great injustice. Seeing this, Brenna let out a short, cold laugh. What a waste of talent. Isabella should have been an actress with her acting skills. She believed since they had already staged this drama, it would be impolite not to play along. Brenna flung a glance at the necklace, unimpressed. The chain was thick, the gemstones sizable, but the craftsmanship left much to be desired. The color, cut, and overall design... They were far from top-tier. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something this poorly made," Brenna remarked coolly. "There must be some mistake. When I packed my things in the attic, that necklace wasn't in my bag. But I do recall you holding it in your hand earlier, dear sister. Could it be that you accidentally dropped it into my backpack?" She scoffed, refusing to shoulder the blame. With deliberate calm, she set her backpack on the floor and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the cold surface. "Go ahead. See if there's anything else from the Barrett family in my backpack. If there is, take it. I'd rather not carry the label of a thief." Among the scattered items, a blue folder slid into view. Isabella's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Aren't these my design drafts for new energy auto parts? Brenna, how did they end up in your bag?" She crouched, picking up the folder and flipping through its pages with practiced disbelief. Inside were intricate sketches of mechanical components. She looked at Brenna, shaking her head, disappointment etched across her features. "I never imagined you'd stoop this low. You didn't even finish grade school--what could you possibly want with my design drafts? Planning to sell them?" Brenna rolled her eyes. She didn't need to check--she already knew what those papers were. The nuclear-powered cargo ship component blueprints she had spent an entire night perfecting. How had they become Isabella's? Brenna blinked, suddenly realizing something. Yesterday, Isabella had spent the day seated at the grand dining table, sketching exaggerated designs in an attempt to flaunt her mechanical expertise. The entire household had seen it. That gave Isabella the chance to frame her now. Isabella continued, pointing at the drafts, "You stole them. Just admit it. Since we're family, I'll let it slide." Ruby stepped closer, snatching the folder and scanning its contents. The moment she saw the sketches, her face twisted with fury. "How could I have raised someone like you?" she said to Brenna. "You are such a disgrace!" Brenna remained silent. Her blueprints had clear, unmistakable markings. The title, written in a foreign language, identified them as designs for nuclear-powered cargo ship components. Didn't any of them notice that? Right there in the lower right corner, her personal anti-counterfeit signature gleamed--proof that no one could claim her work as their own. Brenna faced Alec and Ruby. "You both know what I'm capable of," she stated, her voice steady. "A decade ago, you were running a small auto parts factory, barely making about five hundred thousand a year, living in a modest duplex. At that time, you saw my potential. That's why you kept me from school and forced me to stay home and design advanced components for you." Chapter 3 I Thought Your Design Drafts Were Trash Brenna looked at the Barrett family with clear contempt, her expression calm as she revealed the truth to the surrounding guests. "For over a decade, this family has capitalized on my designs--transforming a modest auto parts business into a full-fledged car-manufacturing empire, even securing a public listing. But now that they've outgrown their need for me, they're framing me for theft, all to protect their real daughter. How touching," she said with a snort. Alec's face darkened with fury, his voice rising. "What kind of nonsense is this? You barely made it through grade school. How could you possibly understand mechanical design?" Brenna held her designs up for the gathering guests to see. "Take a good look. This isn't a blueprint for new energy auto parts. It's an advanced cargo ship design. I have no reason to steal from anyone, least of all Isabella." Now, the regret hit her hard. In the past, she had been too young to see through Alec's schemes. She had been too trusting to realize why he had insisted on putting his name on her designs. It was painfully clear now--Alec had been setting this up from the very beginning. Brenna tapped a line of component names on the blueprint. "Read this carefully. It's in Amland's language, and it translates to 'nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system'." Tilting the paper slightly, she pointed to the faint watermark in the lower right corner, which shimmered under the shifting light. "This is my personal mark. You can compare it to Isabella's so-called 'designs'. Her designs are garbage," she said. Just as she finished speaking, Sarah Moss, one of the servants, hesitantly stepped forward, holding an identical folder. "Miss Barrett... I thought these were trash, so I threw them in the trash can. These are your design drafts..." Brenna let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Did you hear that? Even Sarah recognized them as trash." Isabella's face burned with humiliation. She shot Sarah a murderous glare before yanking the folder from her hands and flipping through it in a panic. Then, with a furious growl, she slammed it down. "These designs aren't mine!" she exclaimed. Sarah paled, stammering, "I-I didn't mean to say they were trash! I just... mistakenly thought they were and threw them away..." She trailed off, glancing around awkwardly and realizing there was no way to clarify this without making things worse. Ruby, unwilling to let Isabella be humiliated any further, immediately shifted the attack back onto Brenna. "Oh, please! Look at yourself. Do you really expect us to believe that someone who never even finished grade school designed a nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system? You must have stolen this! People like you bring nothing but disgrace. Don't you dare associate yourself with the Barrett family again from now on!" Brenna didn't spare Ruby a glance. She simply flipped open both her own design drafts and Isabella's, setting them side by side for the crowd to compare. Alec's and Ruby's faces immediately turned dark. Alec clenched his fists, his entire body tense with barely restrained anger. Then, he barked, "Enough with this nonsense! Do you really think you made our family rich? The Barrett family's success is built on my and your brother's hard work. You had nothing to do with it! We clothed and fed you for years, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful brat--get out now!" Ruby, feeding off his rage, didn't hesitate to pile on the lies. "We took you in, gave you everything, spent millions raising you--and you dare act like you're the victim here? Do you think the scraps of talent you brought to this family mean anything compared to what we gave you?" Brenna's eyes turned ice-cold. She believed there was no point in arguing with them. She was leaving, and once she walked out that door, the Barrett family's problems would no longer be hers. "Fine. We will have nothing to do with each other from now on," she said. She bent down to grab her laptop from the floor. However, Isabella was faster. She snatched the sleek black device before Brenna could reach it, holding it tightly in her grasp. "You're so stubborn, Brenna. I was kind enough to offer you a way out earlier, but in return, you throw dirt on me and my family? You make mistakes, refuse to apologize, then try to turn it around on us? This computer must contain confidential information about the Barrett family. You can't take it with you!" Before anyone could react, Isabella grabbed a glass of water from a nearby guest's hand and poured it directly over the keyboard of the laptop. Without warning, Brenna sl**ped Isabella across the face. Then she grabbed the drenched laptop and immediately began drying it off. "How dare you hit me?" Isabella gasped, her face twisted with fury. She raised a trembling hand to strike back--only to be sl**ped again by Brenna. Ruby, a second too late, lunged forward, incensed. "The Barrett family raised you, and this is how you repay us now? By attacking our real daughter?" For years, Ruby had treated Brenna as a convenient target for her frustration, an outlet for her anger. But never--not once--had Brenna retaliated. Ruby wanted to hit Brenna. But something in Brenna's eyes made Ruby falter, her raised hand hanging mid-air. "Mom, she hit me!" Isabella exclaimed, clutching her stinging cheek, her eyes burning with resentment. Ruby grasped Isabella's hand, her breath catching at the sight of the glaring red imprint on her precious daughter's face. "Does it hurt, Isabella?" she asked. Isabella shot Brenna a venomous glare, her fury boiling over as she lifted her leg, aiming a kick at Brenna while she gathered her belongings. Brenna dodged instinctively, smoothly. Securing the last of her things, she turned to face them, her voice icy. "Oh? So it hurts? Mom, when you used me as a punching bag all these years, did you ever ask if I felt hurt? You had no problem beating me senseless, but the second I lay a single hand on your precious daughter, you act like you are heartbroken?" Ruby's eyes flickered with unease for a moment. Then, she recovered quickly, her lips curling in disdain. "And what do you think we took you in for? To pamper you?" "So you're finally admitting what you did to me." Brenna swept a frosty look over the Barrett family, then swung her backpack over her shoulder. Without a word, she turned to leave. Chapter 4 What Do You Think? The July sun blazed mercilessly. Brenna stood beneath the shade of a tree, waiting for her real family, the Harpers' car to arrive. Half an hour had passed, but no one had come. Just then, Brenna's phone suddenly vibrated with a friend request. A note accompanied it. "Hello, I'm Rosie Harper, your sister." Brenna accepted the request without hesitation, and within seconds, she received a message from Rosie. "Hello, I'm Rosie, your sister. Mom, Dad, and our elder brothers are tied up with work today, so they want you to go to Flavor Restaurant first. They've arranged lunch for you there." Doubt crept into Brenna's mind. Was this some kind of scam? Why send her to a restaurant instead of simply giving her the Harper family's address? But not many people knew she was heading to the Harper residence today. Whoever this was had to be a member of the Harper family. A weight settled in Brenna's chest. Her first day home, and they couldn't even bother to pick her up? That said enough about how little they valued her. She doubted this family would be any better than the Barrett family. Another message from Rosie popped up. "Brenna, I'll be waiting for you." Brenna responded with a single word, "Okay." It was nearly impossible to get a taxi at this hour. With no other choice, Brenna took the bus, getting off at Flavor Restaurant. The establishment was the pinnacle of luxury in Shirie, a favorite haunt of the city's elite. Dining here meant dropping at least ten thousand dollars. The moment Brenna pushed the door open and entered the restaurant, a blast of crisp, cool air wrapped around her, shielding her from the suffocating summer heat. Her lungs felt lighter instantly. The restaurant was quiet, nearly empty. No one paid her any attention--except for a waitress who approached her with a polite smile. The waitress was a young woman, pretty and probably in her early twenties. She wore a tailored red uniform, exuding professionalism. "Welcome, Miss. Are you Brenna Harper?" "Yes. The Harpers asked me to meet them here. Could you tell me which room they're in?" Brenna's eyes scanned the space. No one seemed to be waiting for her, which meant the Harper family was likely in a private room. The waitress kept her polished smile intact, subtly studying Brenna's casual outfit--a plain white T-shirt featuring a video game character, layered under an oversized striped shirt that draped past her frayed denim shorts. A worn baseball cap sat atop her head, partially hiding wavy hair streaked with deep blue. Brenna's skin was smooth, her facial features delicate yet striking. The bold blue lipstick added an edge to her look. Her voice was crisp, clear, effortlessly drawing attention from nearby tables. "Miss, please follow me." The waitress gestured toward a table before continuing, "A woman from the Harper family waited for you here for over an hour but had to leave for something urgent. She'll be back shortly. She ordered for you, so please sit down. The dishes will arrive soon." The table was set for six. Brenna chose the chair facing the door, tossing her backpack onto the seat beside her. Moments later, the waitress returned with a glass of fresh orange juice. "Please enjoy. The food will be out shortly," she said politely. Brenna nodded and thanked the waitress, though confusion lingered in her mind. Wasn't the Harper family supposed to be struggling financially? Why invite her to a restaurant this extravagant? She couldn't make sense of what the Harper family was up to. Pulling out her phone, she sent Rosie a message. "I'm here already. When will you join me?" Rosie responded soon, "I'm in a meeting right now. Might take a while. Go ahead and eat--no need to wait for me." A meeting? Brenna furrowed her brows upon seeing the message. Weren't the Harpers supposed to live in a poor, remote village? If that were true, how was Rosie in a meeting? Could the information she had gotten about the Harper family be false? She glanced around, noting the semi-private booths by the windows. The occupants were hidden from view, but the soft murmur of conversation trickled through the air. Soon, the waitress wheeled over a cart, and in moments, the table was filled with beautifully plated dishes--small portions, but meticulously crafted. Meanwhile, in one of the semi-private booths, three women sat around a table, their table adorned with steak and orange juice. A woman in a white dress set her phone down, a faint smile curving her lips. "So? What do you think?" This was Rosie Harper. She was actually Brenna's cousin. But she was raised by Brenna's parents after her own parents had passed away. Brenna's parents treated her like she was their daughter. Sitting across from her were her friends, Sylvie Higgins and Vivian Morrison, both from prominent families. Their outfits were impeccable, their makeup flawless, their table manners practiced to perfection. The three had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything. Sylvie tilted her head. "Her face is decent, but her fashion sense is a disaster," she remarked, snapping a few photos. She then arranged them into a collage. The centerpiece of the collage was a photo of Brenna eating, her face blurred out. Sylvie soon posted the photos. The caption read, "Flavor Restaurant, spotted a beauty." Vivian casually liked the post before saying, "She's got a bit of a wild look." Then, with a teasing smirk, she cast a sideways glance at Rosie and added, "Ethan might find that appealing." Rosie's smile faltered. The last thing she wanted was for her fiancé to take an interest in Brenna. The marriage agreement between the Mitchell and Harper families required a Harper member to marry the son of the Mitchell family--but it had never specified who. She shot Vivian a warning look. "Don't say things like that." Sylvie leaned in, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Vivian's got a point. Brenna's got the kind of figure men tend to notice. Imagine Ethan's reaction if he saw her like this." Rosie scowled as she responded, "It doesn't matter how pretty she is or what kind of figure she has. After today's events, Ethan won't spare her a second glance." The three shared a quiet laugh. Sylvie's eyes flicked toward Brenna's table, where most of the food had already been eaten. "She's got quite the appetite," she remarked. "Maybe the Barretts didn't feed her well? Just look at the way she's devouring everything--it's obvious she has never had gourmet dining before." Chapter 5 You Really Shouldn't Have Come Here In The First Place Sylvie set her phone on the table, tilting the screen toward her two friends as she shook her head in mock disbelief. Clicking her tongue, she smirked. "Who would've guessed? The Barretts' adopted daughter didn't even finish grade school and started mingling in social circles at ten. Hey, how many boyfriends do you think she's had?" Rosie picked up the phone, her eyes narrowing as she read the information about Brenna. There were also photos of Brenna from different periods, her rebellious fashion sense on full display. Some shots showed her in bold, dramatic makeup, and some showed her surrounded by men--none of the men looked ordinary, and a few were noticeably older than her. "Where did you get this from?" Rosie asked, intrigued. "I tried digging into her background before but came up with nothing." Sylvie leaned back with a proud smile. "I had my brother ask his friend to investigate. Turns out, Brenna has been skipping school and picking fights since she was a kid. At one point, she even had to leave the country because she couldn't stay here anymore." Rosie was stunned, her brows raised. "If she becomes a member of my family, won't that be a disaster?" Sylvie's grin widened. "Isn't that the best part?" After a while, Rosie chuckled. "I suppose it is." Brenna ate without pretense, not because she had poor manners but because of sheer hunger. By the time she had cleared half the dishes, she finally felt a lot better. Yet, the Harper family was still nowhere to be seen. She glanced at her phone--it was two in the afternoon. No word from them. She sent a message to Rosie. "When are you coming?" Rosie's reply came almost instantly. "Sorry, I might not make it today. Just leave when you're done eating. I'll cover the bill." A slow, knowing smirk crept onto Rosie's lips as she sent the message. She then swiftly typed another to the waitress. As if on cue, the waitress who had been attending to Brenna approached her again, moving at a leisurely pace. By now, Brenna had pulled out her bulky black laptop and opened a stock trading page, the screen glowing faintly. The waitress, noticing the outdated model of Brenna's laptop, barely concealed her disdain but tried hard to keep her tone polished. "Miss, could you please settle the bill?" Brenna blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't even indicated she was ready to leave, yet the waitress was already rushing her to pay? When had the Flavor Restaurant's customer service become so terrible? She turned the screen of her phone toward the waitress, showing her Rosie's message, her voice calm. "My friend said she'd handle the bill. Her name is Rosie Harper." The waitress didn't drop her professional smile. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't know your friend. The total is one hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars. If you're unable to pay, I'll have no choice but to call the police." From the booth, Rosie watched the scene with delight. She was curious to see what Brenna would do. Would she grovel to the Barretts for help? Or would she work off the debt scrubbing dishes for a year? Or perhaps she would resort to a classic dine-and-dash, flexing the street smarts she was rumored to have? Her fingers tightened around her phone as she silently recorded the scene. Just then, Vivian and Sylvie sauntered toward Brenna's table. The commotion had also drawn the attention of nearby diners, who discreetly raised their phones, capturing the scene. Vivian's eyes swept over Brenna with thinly veiled contempt. "Miss, if you can't afford to eat here, you really shouldn't have come here in the first place. This place is for the elite. You'd be better off at a restaurant more suited to your status." Sylvie smirked and folded her arms. "The minimum spend here is ten grand. I doubt you make that in a month. Tell you what, my family's looking for someone to clean the toilets. Work for my family for a month, and I'll cover your bill. What do you say?" Vivian let out a soft chuckle. "That's generous, Sylvie. If you'd rather not scrub toilets, Miss, I can pay for you instead. No cleaning necessary--just get on your knees and polish my shoes. Then I'll settle the bill for you." Clicks echoed through the room as more people snapped photos, some already posting the drama online. Seeing this, Rosie was very pleased. The people she had hired were doing their job perfectly, each capturing the scene and sharing it on social media. She believed that soon enough, Brenna's name would be dragged through the mud, and neither the Harper family nor Ethan would want anything to do with her. In an attempt to portray herself as the kind person who cleaned up the mess for Brenna later, Rosie sneaked out into the scorching heat, closely monitoring the chaos within. Vivian turned to the waitress, reaching into her designer bag. "How much is her bill?" she asked, pulling out a thick stack of cash and dropping it onto the table. She looked at Brenna. "Do as we say, and we'll cover your bill." The waitress answered promptly, "One hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars." Brenna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes shifting between the two women before her. Judging by their outfits and attitudes, they were definitely from wealthy families--spoiled, entitled, and clearly here to target her. She hadn't offended them before, yet here they were, going out of their way to humiliate her. Someone was obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes. "Who do you think you are, barking in front of me? I don't even know you," she said. Before either Sylvie or Vivian could respond, Brenna glanced toward the staircase. A tall man had just arrived, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes gleamed like polished obsidian beneath perfectly arched brows. He had a chiseled nose, thin yet defined lips, and a jawline so precise that it looked sculpted by a master artisan. The man frowned as he surveyed the scene, his handsome face darkened by unmistakable displeasure. It was clear he had already pieced together what was happening. And yet, even with such a stunning man in the room, Brenna remained unaffected. A handsome face wouldn't distract her from the fools still yapping in front of her. Sylvie and Vivian, not seeing the man behind them, were fuming. Vivian, seething from Brenna's insult, raised her hand, ready to sl*p Brenna across the face. But the next second, a firm hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Vivian's breath caught as she turned sharply, ready to lash out--until her eyes locked onto the man holding her back. Her heart sank. Why was Ethan Mitchell here? "E-Ethan?" she stammered. ...... What happens next? 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Her adoptive parents used her design talent to make a fortune for twenty years. But once their biological daughter was found, she was framed and expelled from home. Unexpectedly, her supposedly poor biological parents turned out to be the richest people in the city. She became the daughter of a top wealthy family and was spoiled by them! ===== "Brenna, why must it come to this? Yes, we've found our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. You know our family's wealth--taking care of one more person isn't a burden. If you ask me, you should stay. Your mom and I will treat you no differently than before." At the Barrett family's residence in Shirie, in the cramped, airless attic on the third floor, Brenna Barrett was packing her belongings. Meanwhile, the grand living room on the first floor buzzed with conversation, guests swirling glasses of champagne as they exchanged pleasantries. A towering banner with the words "Welcome Home, Beloved Daughter" stretched across the entrance. "But if you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. Still, your family is barely scraping by. I doubt they can even send a car to pick you up. Take this money--at least let it cover your travel expenses." Alec Barrett, Brenna's adoptive father, stood before her, an envelope in his hand. He set it down gently before Brenna, his face lined with feigned reluctance. Brenna's eyes flicked to the slim envelope. She was already certain it held no more than a thousand dollars. Without a hint of hesitation, she pushed it back toward Alec, her expression cold. "I don't need it. My parents have already sent a car for me." She scoffed inwardly. What a laughable attempt to make her stay. Persuading her to stay while already offering her travel money? The Barrett family had taken her in when she was barely past her second birthday, a replacement for the daughter Ruby Barrett had lost--a child stolen from the hospital the day she was born. Drowning in grief, Ruby had grasped at the idea of adoption, convincing herself it would ease the ache of her loss. But Brenna had never been a daughter for the Barrett family in anything more than name. She had spent her childhood in hand-me-downs from discount racks, scraping by on leftovers while serving as a servant in the Barrett household. When she had gotten older, Alec had stumbled upon her natural flair for design. Even her casual sketches outshone those of seasoned professionals, their market value undeniable. That was when everything changed. The Barrett family had stopped her from going to school. She had become their hidden asset, locked away to draft blueprints for car parts and even entire vehicles. They knew exactly how much of their wealth was earned by her. Without Brenna, they would have never broken into Shirie's elite circles, never had the means to throw this lavish welcome party for their biological daughter, with influential figures from all walks of life attending. And now that their fortune had just begun to flourish, they didn't want to keep Brenna anymore. The Barretts were eager to kick her out of the family, their selfishness laid bare. Alec sighed and shoved the envelope into Brenna's bag. He said, "They've sent a car to pick you up? I find that hard to believe. I looked into your biological family. Your parents have two sons, and your only uncle is bedridden, unable to care for himself. They live in a struggling village--barely making ends meet. They don't have the luxury to come pick you up. You've been living in comfort here, spending freely. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of hardship? Just take the money..." Brenna pulled the envelope out of her bag and placed it on the table with quiet finality. "Goodbye." She didn't notice Isabella Barrett, Alec and Ruby's biological daughter, slipping something into the side pocket of her backpack. Without another glance, Brenna hoisted her black backpack over one shoulder and strode downstairs, leaving the Barretts behind. Ruby, watching Brenna disappear down the stairs, clenched her jaw. "Look at that! She showed me no gratitude at all. I housed and fed her for twenty years, and she didn't have a single word of thanks before leaving me? Someone like that is bound to end up begging in the streets!" Isabella looped her arm through Ruby's, her voice soft, almost soothing. "Mom, don't let her get to you. She never even finished school and was thrown into social circles at ten. How could she possibly have proper manners? She's walking away from a privileged life now--she'll be lucky if she doesn't starve. It's understandable if she's in a foul mood. Let me go see her off." Ruby frowned, grabbing Isabella's wrist to stop her. "Why bother? She's ungrateful. She doesn't deserve it." "Mom," Isabella said, her smile sweet, "since I came back, Brenna has treated me well. This might be the last time we ever see each other. It's only right that I say goodbye to her properly." She gave the jewelry box in her hand a little shake, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I have a parting gift for her." With that, she hurried after Brenna, Alec and Ruby following behind. "Brenna!" Isabella called out, her voice warm and sweet as she lightly jogged forward. "You're leaving so quickly? I haven't given you the gift I got for you." She extended her palm, revealing a square red box. Inside lay a white jade bracelet, its surface smooth and luminous. It was undoubtedly of high quality. Brenna gave it a brief glance. She recognized the bracelet's good quality--it was probably worth a decent sum. Her voice was cold as she said, "No, thanks. You keep it." Isabella's expression didn't falter as she nudged the box into Brenna's hand. "You should take it. I spent over a hundred thousand on this bracelet. If things ever get tough, you can sell it for emergencies. It could come in handy someday." Before Brenna could refuse again, Isabella snapped the box shut and tucked it into Brenna's backpack herself. Just then, a flustered maid rushed over and exclaimed, "Miss Barrett, terrible news! The engagement necklace Mr. Barton gifted you is missing!" Chapter 2 Accused Of Stealing Isabella froze mid-motion upon hearing that, the jewelry box still clutched in her fingers as she slipped it into Brenna's backpack. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you just say? That gemstone necklace is a gift from Jordy. It costs one million and eight hundred thousand! It has ten top-tier gems, each hand-selected. I left it on the table. How could it just vanish? Are you sure you checked properly?" Brenna observed the unfolding scene intently, her expression impassive. She could already see the setup, the neatly arranged trap. The servant's name was Sadie Brown. Her face went ghostly white, her hands visibly trembling. "Miss Barrett, I searched everywhere--every corner, every drawer--but it's gone. Could someone have taken it?" With that, Sadie's eyes landed on Brenna, suspicion darkening her expression. She didn't need to say it outright--her eyes did the accusing for her. Isabella shot her a sharp look. "What are you staring at? Just because Brenna's real family is poor doesn't mean she'd resort to stealing. Anyway, is anything else missing from my room?" Sadie hesitated, then swallowed hard. "Yes... The design plans you drew a few days ago. They're gone too." A strange glint flickered in Sadie's eyes. Without warning, she strode toward Brenna and yanked at a thin chain peeking out from her backpack. Isabella gasped, her shock perfectly timed as she took the necklace from Sadie's hand. "Brenna," she murmured, feigning hurt, "how did the engagement necklace Jordy gave me end up in your bag?" She clutched the piece, looking disappointed. "If you needed money, why not just ask Dad? He has supported you all these years--he wouldn't mind giving you more money. But stealing? This would break Mom's and Dad's hearts." At that moment, Alec and Ruby walked over. Alec scowled, disappointment carving deep lines into his face. He exhaled sharply, his tone laced with disapproval as he said, "I offered you money, and you turned it down--only to do this? If you needed help, you could have said something instead of resorting to this disgraceful behavior. This is really shameful! Why did you do this?" Ruby's temper flared instantly. "She must have thought the money was too little! What else could it be? A thousand for travel expenses wasn't enough for her, so she helped herself to something more valuable. One million and eight hundred thousand--her real parents' entire family couldn't make that much in a lifetime!" Isabella reached for Ruby's hand, a pained expression settling on her face. "Mom, please stop. If you keep saying such things, how will Brenna ever face anyone again? I don't think she did it on purpose--maybe she took it by mistake." Alec and Ruby remained silent, though the disdain in their eyes was clear. Inwardly, they had already written Brenna off as a thief. Isabella managed a gentle smile, but a flicker of triumph danced in her eyes as she glanced at the gathering guests around them. This was perfect. With Brenna marked as a thief, she would never find help from Shirie's upper circles. The Barrett family's influence would be forever out of her reach. Isabella turned to Brenna. "Brenna, I'd give you anything, but not this necklace. It's Jordy's engagement gift to me. I know it must be hard--watching him choose me when you were supposed to be engaged to him. But feelings can't be forced, right? Jordy and I love each other deeply. Please, don't come between us. If you need money, I'll give you all my jewelry, okay? Just not this one." As Isabella spoke, tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks like she had just suffered a great injustice. Seeing this, Brenna let out a short, cold laugh. What a waste of talent. Isabella should have been an actress with her acting skills. She believed since they had already staged this drama, it would be impolite not to play along. Brenna flung a glance at the necklace, unimpressed. The chain was thick, the gemstones sizable, but the craftsmanship left much to be desired. The color, cut, and overall design... They were far from top-tier. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something this poorly made," Brenna remarked coolly. "There must be some mistake. When I packed my things in the attic, that necklace wasn't in my bag. But I do recall you holding it in your hand earlier, dear sister. Could it be that you accidentally dropped it into my backpack?" She scoffed, refusing to shoulder the blame. With deliberate calm, she set her backpack on the floor and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the cold surface. "Go ahead. See if there's anything else from the Barrett family in my backpack. If there is, take it. I'd rather not carry the label of a thief." Among the scattered items, a blue folder slid into view. Isabella's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Aren't these my design drafts for new energy auto parts? Brenna, how did they end up in your bag?" She crouched, picking up the folder and flipping through its pages with practiced disbelief. Inside were intricate sketches of mechanical components. She looked at Brenna, shaking her head, disappointment etched across her features. "I never imagined you'd stoop this low. You didn't even finish grade school--what could you possibly want with my design drafts? Planning to sell them?" Brenna rolled her eyes. She didn't need to check--she already knew what those papers were. The nuclear-powered cargo ship component blueprints she had spent an entire night perfecting. How had they become Isabella's? Brenna blinked, suddenly realizing something. Yesterday, Isabella had spent the day seated at the grand dining table, sketching exaggerated designs in an attempt to flaunt her mechanical expertise. The entire household had seen it. That gave Isabella the chance to frame her now. Isabella continued, pointing at the drafts, "You stole them. Just admit it. Since we're family, I'll let it slide." Ruby stepped closer, snatching the folder and scanning its contents. The moment she saw the sketches, her face twisted with fury. "How could I have raised someone like you?" she said to Brenna. "You are such a disgrace!" Brenna remained silent. Her blueprints had clear, unmistakable markings. The title, written in a foreign language, identified them as designs for nuclear-powered cargo ship components. Didn't any of them notice that? Right there in the lower right corner, her personal anti-counterfeit signature gleamed--proof that no one could claim her work as their own. Brenna faced Alec and Ruby. "You both know what I'm capable of," she stated, her voice steady. "A decade ago, you were running a small auto parts factory, barely making about five hundred thousand a year, living in a modest duplex. At that time, you saw my potential. That's why you kept me from school and forced me to stay home and design advanced components for you." Chapter 3 I Thought Your Design Drafts Were Trash Brenna looked at the Barrett family with clear contempt, her expression calm as she revealed the truth to the surrounding guests. "For over a decade, this family has capitalized on my designs--transforming a modest auto parts business into a full-fledged car-manufacturing empire, even securing a public listing. But now that they've outgrown their need for me, they're framing me for theft, all to protect their real daughter. How touching," she said with a snort. Alec's face darkened with fury, his voice rising. "What kind of nonsense is this? You barely made it through grade school. How could you possibly understand mechanical design?" Brenna held her designs up for the gathering guests to see. "Take a good look. This isn't a blueprint for new energy auto parts. It's an advanced cargo ship design. I have no reason to steal from anyone, least of all Isabella." Now, the regret hit her hard. In the past, she had been too young to see through Alec's schemes. She had been too trusting to realize why he had insisted on putting his name on her designs. It was painfully clear now--Alec had been setting this up from the very beginning. Brenna tapped a line of component names on the blueprint. "Read this carefully. It's in Amland's language, and it translates to 'nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system'." Tilting the paper slightly, she pointed to the faint watermark in the lower right corner, which shimmered under the shifting light. "This is my personal mark. You can compare it to Isabella's so-called 'designs'. Her designs are garbage," she said. Just as she finished speaking, Sarah Moss, one of the servants, hesitantly stepped forward, holding an identical folder. "Miss Barrett... I thought these were trash, so I threw them in the trash can. These are your design drafts..." Brenna let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Did you hear that? Even Sarah recognized them as trash." Isabella's face burned with humiliation. She shot Sarah a murderous glare before yanking the folder from her hands and flipping through it in a panic. Then, with a furious growl, she slammed it down. "These designs aren't mine!" she exclaimed. Sarah paled, stammering, "I-I didn't mean to say they were trash! I just... mistakenly thought they were and threw them away..." She trailed off, glancing around awkwardly and realizing there was no way to clarify this without making things worse. Ruby, unwilling to let Isabella be humiliated any further, immediately shifted the attack back onto Brenna. "Oh, please! Look at yourself. Do you really expect us to believe that someone who never even finished grade school designed a nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system? You must have stolen this! People like you bring nothing but disgrace. Don't you dare associate yourself with the Barrett family again from now on!" Brenna didn't spare Ruby a glance. She simply flipped open both her own design drafts and Isabella's, setting them side by side for the crowd to compare. Alec's and Ruby's faces immediately turned dark. Alec clenched his fists, his entire body tense with barely restrained anger. Then, he barked, "Enough with this nonsense! Do you really think you made our family rich? The Barrett family's success is built on my and your brother's hard work. You had nothing to do with it! We clothed and fed you for years, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful brat--get out now!" Ruby, feeding off his rage, didn't hesitate to pile on the lies. "We took you in, gave you everything, spent millions raising you--and you dare act like you're the victim here? Do you think the scraps of talent you brought to this family mean anything compared to what we gave you?" Brenna's eyes turned ice-cold. She believed there was no point in arguing with them. She was leaving, and once she walked out that door, the Barrett family's problems would no longer be hers. "Fine. We will have nothing to do with each other from now on," she said. She bent down to grab her laptop from the floor. However, Isabella was faster. She snatched the sleek black device before Brenna could reach it, holding it tightly in her grasp. "You're so stubborn, Brenna. I was kind enough to offer you a way out earlier, but in return, you throw dirt on me and my family? You make mistakes, refuse to apologize, then try to turn it around on us? This computer must contain confidential information about the Barrett family. You can't take it with you!" Before anyone could react, Isabella grabbed a glass of water from a nearby guest's hand and poured it directly over the keyboard of the laptop. Without warning, Brenna sl**ped Isabella across the face. Then she grabbed the drenched laptop and immediately began drying it off. "How dare you hit me?" Isabella gasped, her face twisted with fury. She raised a trembling hand to strike back--only to be sl**ped again by Brenna. Ruby, a second too late, lunged forward, incensed. "The Barrett family raised you, and this is how you repay us now? By attacking our real daughter?" For years, Ruby had treated Brenna as a convenient target for her frustration, an outlet for her anger. But never--not once--had Brenna retaliated. Ruby wanted to hit Brenna. But something in Brenna's eyes made Ruby falter, her raised hand hanging mid-air. "Mom, she hit me!" Isabella exclaimed, clutching her stinging cheek, her eyes burning with resentment. Ruby grasped Isabella's hand, her breath catching at the sight of the glaring red imprint on her precious daughter's face. "Does it hurt, Isabella?" she asked. Isabella shot Brenna a venomous glare, her fury boiling over as she lifted her leg, aiming a kick at Brenna while she gathered her belongings. Brenna dodged instinctively, smoothly. Securing the last of her things, she turned to face them, her voice icy. "Oh? So it hurts? Mom, when you used me as a punching bag all these years, did you ever ask if I felt hurt? You had no problem beating me senseless, but the second I lay a single hand on your precious daughter, you act like you are heartbroken?" Ruby's eyes flickered with unease for a moment. Then, she recovered quickly, her lips curling in disdain. "And what do you think we took you in for? To pamper you?" "So you're finally admitting what you did to me." Brenna swept a frosty look over the Barrett family, then swung her backpack over her shoulder. Without a word, she turned to leave. Chapter 4 What Do You Think? The July sun blazed mercilessly. Brenna stood beneath the shade of a tree, waiting for her real family, the Harpers' car to arrive. Half an hour had passed, but no one had come. Just then, Brenna's phone suddenly vibrated with a friend request. A note accompanied it. "Hello, I'm Rosie Harper, your sister." Brenna accepted the request without hesitation, and within seconds, she received a message from Rosie. "Hello, I'm Rosie, your sister. Mom, Dad, and our elder brothers are tied up with work today, so they want you to go to Flavor Restaurant first. They've arranged lunch for you there." Doubt crept into Brenna's mind. Was this some kind of scam? Why send her to a restaurant instead of simply giving her the Harper family's address? But not many people knew she was heading to the Harper residence today. Whoever this was had to be a member of the Harper family. A weight settled in Brenna's chest. Her first day home, and they couldn't even bother to pick her up? That said enough about how little they valued her. She doubted this family would be any better than the Barrett family. Another message from Rosie popped up. "Brenna, I'll be waiting for you." Brenna responded with a single word, "Okay." It was nearly impossible to get a taxi at this hour. With no other choice, Brenna took the bus, getting off at Flavor Restaurant. The establishment was the pinnacle of luxury in Shirie, a favorite haunt of the city's elite. Dining here meant dropping at least ten thousand dollars. The moment Brenna pushed the door open and entered the restaurant, a blast of crisp, cool air wrapped around her, shielding her from the suffocating summer heat. Her lungs felt lighter instantly. The restaurant was quiet, nearly empty. No one paid her any attention--except for a waitress who approached her with a polite smile. The waitress was a young woman, pretty and probably in her early twenties. She wore a tailored red uniform, exuding professionalism. "Welcome, Miss. Are you Brenna Harper?" "Yes. The Harpers asked me to meet them here. Could you tell me which room they're in?" Brenna's eyes scanned the space. No one seemed to be waiting for her, which meant the Harper family was likely in a private room. The waitress kept her polished smile intact, subtly studying Brenna's casual outfit--a plain white T-shirt featuring a video game character, layered under an oversized striped shirt that draped past her frayed denim shorts. A worn baseball cap sat atop her head, partially hiding wavy hair streaked with deep blue. Brenna's skin was smooth, her facial features delicate yet striking. The bold blue lipstick added an edge to her look. Her voice was crisp, clear, effortlessly drawing attention from nearby tables. "Miss, please follow me." The waitress gestured toward a table before continuing, "A woman from the Harper family waited for you here for over an hour but had to leave for something urgent. She'll be back shortly. She ordered for you, so please sit down. The dishes will arrive soon." The table was set for six. Brenna chose the chair facing the door, tossing her backpack onto the seat beside her. Moments later, the waitress returned with a glass of fresh orange juice. "Please enjoy. The food will be out shortly," she said politely. Brenna nodded and thanked the waitress, though confusion lingered in her mind. Wasn't the Harper family supposed to be struggling financially? Why invite her to a restaurant this extravagant? She couldn't make sense of what the Harper family was up to. Pulling out her phone, she sent Rosie a message. "I'm here already. When will you join me?" Rosie responded soon, "I'm in a meeting right now. Might take a while. Go ahead and eat--no need to wait for me." A meeting? Brenna furrowed her brows upon seeing the message. Weren't the Harpers supposed to live in a poor, remote village? If that were true, how was Rosie in a meeting? Could the information she had gotten about the Harper family be false? She glanced around, noting the semi-private booths by the windows. The occupants were hidden from view, but the soft murmur of conversation trickled through the air. Soon, the waitress wheeled over a cart, and in moments, the table was filled with beautifully plated dishes--small portions, but meticulously crafted. Meanwhile, in one of the semi-private booths, three women sat around a table, their table adorned with steak and orange juice. A woman in a white dress set her phone down, a faint smile curving her lips. "So? What do you think?" This was Rosie Harper. She was actually Brenna's cousin. But she was raised by Brenna's parents after her own parents had passed away. Brenna's parents treated her like she was their daughter. Sitting across from her were her friends, Sylvie Higgins and Vivian Morrison, both from prominent families. Their outfits were impeccable, their makeup flawless, their table manners practiced to perfection. The three had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything. Sylvie tilted her head. "Her face is decent, but her fashion sense is a disaster," she remarked, snapping a few photos. She then arranged them into a collage. The centerpiece of the collage was a photo of Brenna eating, her face blurred out. Sylvie soon posted the photos. The caption read, "Flavor Restaurant, spotted a beauty." Vivian casually liked the post before saying, "She's got a bit of a wild look." Then, with a teasing smirk, she cast a sideways glance at Rosie and added, "Ethan might find that appealing." Rosie's smile faltered. The last thing she wanted was for her fiancé to take an interest in Brenna. The marriage agreement between the Mitchell and Harper families required a Harper member to marry the son of the Mitchell family--but it had never specified who. She shot Vivian a warning look. "Don't say things like that." Sylvie leaned in, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Vivian's got a point. Brenna's got the kind of figure men tend to notice. Imagine Ethan's reaction if he saw her like this." Rosie scowled as she responded, "It doesn't matter how pretty she is or what kind of figure she has. After today's events, Ethan won't spare her a second glance." The three shared a quiet laugh. Sylvie's eyes flicked toward Brenna's table, where most of the food had already been eaten. "She's got quite the appetite," she remarked. "Maybe the Barretts didn't feed her well? Just look at the way she's devouring everything--it's obvious she has never had gourmet dining before." Chapter 5 You Really Shouldn't Have Come Here In The First Place Sylvie set her phone on the table, tilting the screen toward her two friends as she shook her head in mock disbelief. Clicking her tongue, she smirked. "Who would've guessed? The Barretts' adopted daughter didn't even finish grade school and started mingling in social circles at ten. Hey, how many boyfriends do you think she's had?" Rosie picked up the phone, her eyes narrowing as she read the information about Brenna. There were also photos of Brenna from different periods, her rebellious fashion sense on full display. Some shots showed her in bold, dramatic makeup, and some showed her surrounded by men--none of the men looked ordinary, and a few were noticeably older than her. "Where did you get this from?" Rosie asked, intrigued. "I tried digging into her background before but came up with nothing." Sylvie leaned back with a proud smile. "I had my brother ask his friend to investigate. Turns out, Brenna has been skipping school and picking fights since she was a kid. At one point, she even had to leave the country because she couldn't stay here anymore." Rosie was stunned, her brows raised. "If she becomes a member of my family, won't that be a disaster?" Sylvie's grin widened. "Isn't that the best part?" After a while, Rosie chuckled. "I suppose it is." Brenna ate without pretense, not because she had poor manners but because of sheer hunger. By the time she had cleared half the dishes, she finally felt a lot better. Yet, the Harper family was still nowhere to be seen. She glanced at her phone--it was two in the afternoon. No word from them. She sent a message to Rosie. "When are you coming?" Rosie's reply came almost instantly. "Sorry, I might not make it today. Just leave when you're done eating. I'll cover the bill." A slow, knowing smirk crept onto Rosie's lips as she sent the message. She then swiftly typed another to the waitress. As if on cue, the waitress who had been attending to Brenna approached her again, moving at a leisurely pace. By now, Brenna had pulled out her bulky black laptop and opened a stock trading page, the screen glowing faintly. The waitress, noticing the outdated model of Brenna's laptop, barely concealed her disdain but tried hard to keep her tone polished. "Miss, could you please settle the bill?" Brenna blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't even indicated she was ready to leave, yet the waitress was already rushing her to pay? When had the Flavor Restaurant's customer service become so terrible? She turned the screen of her phone toward the waitress, showing her Rosie's message, her voice calm. "My friend said she'd handle the bill. Her name is Rosie Harper." The waitress didn't drop her professional smile. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't know your friend. The total is one hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars. If you're unable to pay, I'll have no choice but to call the police." From the booth, Rosie watched the scene with delight. She was curious to see what Brenna would do. Would she grovel to the Barretts for help? Or would she work off the debt scrubbing dishes for a year? Or perhaps she would resort to a classic dine-and-dash, flexing the street smarts she was rumored to have? Her fingers tightened around her phone as she silently recorded the scene. Just then, Vivian and Sylvie sauntered toward Brenna's table. The commotion had also drawn the attention of nearby diners, who discreetly raised their phones, capturing the scene. Vivian's eyes swept over Brenna with thinly veiled contempt. "Miss, if you can't afford to eat here, you really shouldn't have come here in the first place. This place is for the elite. You'd be better off at a restaurant more suited to your status." Sylvie smirked and folded her arms. "The minimum spend here is ten grand. I doubt you make that in a month. Tell you what, my family's looking for someone to clean the toilets. Work for my family for a month, and I'll cover your bill. What do you say?" Vivian let out a soft chuckle. "That's generous, Sylvie. If you'd rather not scrub toilets, Miss, I can pay for you instead. No cleaning necessary--just get on your knees and polish my shoes. Then I'll settle the bill for you." Clicks echoed through the room as more people snapped photos, some already posting the drama online. Seeing this, Rosie was very pleased. The people she had hired were doing their job perfectly, each capturing the scene and sharing it on social media. She believed that soon enough, Brenna's name would be dragged through the mud, and neither the Harper family nor Ethan would want anything to do with her. In an attempt to portray herself as the kind person who cleaned up the mess for Brenna later, Rosie sneaked out into the scorching heat, closely monitoring the chaos within. Vivian turned to the waitress, reaching into her designer bag. "How much is her bill?" she asked, pulling out a thick stack of cash and dropping it onto the table. She looked at Brenna. "Do as we say, and we'll cover your bill." The waitress answered promptly, "One hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars." Brenna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes shifting between the two women before her. Judging by their outfits and attitudes, they were definitely from wealthy families--spoiled, entitled, and clearly here to target her. She hadn't offended them before, yet here they were, going out of their way to humiliate her. Someone was obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes. "Who do you think you are, barking in front of me? I don't even know you," she said. Before either Sylvie or Vivian could respond, Brenna glanced toward the staircase. A tall man had just arrived, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes gleamed like polished obsidian beneath perfectly arched brows. He had a chiseled nose, thin yet defined lips, and a jawline so precise that it looked sculpted by a master artisan. The man frowned as he surveyed the scene, his handsome face darkened by unmistakable displeasure. It was clear he had already pieced together what was happening. And yet, even with such a stunning man in the room, Brenna remained unaffected. A handsome face wouldn't distract her from the fools still yapping in front of her. Sylvie and Vivian, not seeing the man behind them, were fuming. Vivian, seething from Brenna's insult, raised her hand, ready to sl*p Brenna across the face. But the next second, a firm hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Vivian's breath caught as she turned sharply, ready to lash out--until her eyes locked onto the man holding her back. Her heart sank. Why was Ethan Mitchell here? "E-Ethan?" she stammered. ...... What happens next? 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Her adoptive parents used her design talent to make a fortune for twenty years. But once their biological daughter was found, she was framed and expelled from home. Unexpectedly, her supposedly poor biological parents turned out to be the richest people in the city. She became the daughter of a top wealthy family and was spoiled by them! ===== "Brenna, why must it come to this? Yes, we've found our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. You know our family's wealth--taking care of one more person isn't a burden. If you ask me, you should stay. Your mom and I will treat you no differently than before." At the Barrett family's residence in Shirie, in the cramped, airless attic on the third floor, Brenna Barrett was packing her belongings. Meanwhile, the grand living room on the first floor buzzed with conversation, guests swirling glasses of champagne as they exchanged pleasantries. A towering banner with the words "Welcome Home, Beloved Daughter" stretched across the entrance. "But if you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. Still, your family is barely scraping by. I doubt they can even send a car to pick you up. Take this money--at least let it cover your travel expenses." Alec Barrett, Brenna's adoptive father, stood before her, an envelope in his hand. He set it down gently before Brenna, his face lined with feigned reluctance. Brenna's eyes flicked to the slim envelope. She was already certain it held no more than a thousand dollars. Without a hint of hesitation, she pushed it back toward Alec, her expression cold. "I don't need it. My parents have already sent a car for me." She scoffed inwardly. What a laughable attempt to make her stay. Persuading her to stay while already offering her travel money? The Barrett family had taken her in when she was barely past her second birthday, a replacement for the daughter Ruby Barrett had lost--a child stolen from the hospital the day she was born. Drowning in grief, Ruby had grasped at the idea of adoption, convincing herself it would ease the ache of her loss. But Brenna had never been a daughter for the Barrett family in anything more than name. She had spent her childhood in hand-me-downs from discount racks, scraping by on leftovers while serving as a servant in the Barrett household. When she had gotten older, Alec had stumbled upon her natural flair for design. Even her casual sketches outshone those of seasoned professionals, their market value undeniable. That was when everything changed. The Barrett family had stopped her from going to school. She had become their hidden asset, locked away to draft blueprints for car parts and even entire vehicles. They knew exactly how much of their wealth was earned by her. Without Brenna, they would have never broken into Shirie's elite circles, never had the means to throw this lavish welcome party for their biological daughter, with influential figures from all walks of life attending. And now that their fortune had just begun to flourish, they didn't want to keep Brenna anymore. The Barretts were eager to kick her out of the family, their selfishness laid bare. Alec sighed and shoved the envelope into Brenna's bag. He said, "They've sent a car to pick you up? I find that hard to believe. I looked into your biological family. Your parents have two sons, and your only uncle is bedridden, unable to care for himself. They live in a struggling village--barely making ends meet. They don't have the luxury to come pick you up. You've been living in comfort here, spending freely. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of hardship? Just take the money..." Brenna pulled the envelope out of her bag and placed it on the table with quiet finality. "Goodbye." She didn't notice Isabella Barrett, Alec and Ruby's biological daughter, slipping something into the side pocket of her backpack. Without another glance, Brenna hoisted her black backpack over one shoulder and strode downstairs, leaving the Barretts behind. Ruby, watching Brenna disappear down the stairs, clenched her jaw. "Look at that! She showed me no gratitude at all. I housed and fed her for twenty years, and she didn't have a single word of thanks before leaving me? Someone like that is bound to end up begging in the streets!" Isabella looped her arm through Ruby's, her voice soft, almost soothing. "Mom, don't let her get to you. She never even finished school and was thrown into social circles at ten. How could she possibly have proper manners? She's walking away from a privileged life now--she'll be lucky if she doesn't starve. It's understandable if she's in a foul mood. Let me go see her off." Ruby frowned, grabbing Isabella's wrist to stop her. "Why bother? She's ungrateful. She doesn't deserve it." "Mom," Isabella said, her smile sweet, "since I came back, Brenna has treated me well. This might be the last time we ever see each other. It's only right that I say goodbye to her properly." She gave the jewelry box in her hand a little shake, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I have a parting gift for her." With that, she hurried after Brenna, Alec and Ruby following behind. "Brenna!" Isabella called out, her voice warm and sweet as she lightly jogged forward. "You're leaving so quickly? I haven't given you the gift I got for you." She extended her palm, revealing a square red box. Inside lay a white jade bracelet, its surface smooth and luminous. It was undoubtedly of high quality. Brenna gave it a brief glance. She recognized the bracelet's good quality--it was probably worth a decent sum. Her voice was cold as she said, "No, thanks. You keep it." Isabella's expression didn't falter as she nudged the box into Brenna's hand. "You should take it. I spent over a hundred thousand on this bracelet. If things ever get tough, you can sell it for emergencies. It could come in handy someday." Before Brenna could refuse again, Isabella snapped the box shut and tucked it into Brenna's backpack herself. Just then, a flustered maid rushed over and exclaimed, "Miss Barrett, terrible news! The engagement necklace Mr. Barton gifted you is missing!" Chapter 2 Accused Of Stealing Isabella froze mid-motion upon hearing that, the jewelry box still clutched in her fingers as she slipped it into Brenna's backpack. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you just say? That gemstone necklace is a gift from Jordy. It costs one million and eight hundred thousand! It has ten top-tier gems, each hand-selected. I left it on the table. How could it just vanish? Are you sure you checked properly?" Brenna observed the unfolding scene intently, her expression impassive. She could already see the setup, the neatly arranged trap. The servant's name was Sadie Brown. Her face went ghostly white, her hands visibly trembling. "Miss Barrett, I searched everywhere--every corner, every drawer--but it's gone. Could someone have taken it?" With that, Sadie's eyes landed on Brenna, suspicion darkening her expression. She didn't need to say it outright--her eyes did the accusing for her. Isabella shot her a sharp look. "What are you staring at? Just because Brenna's real family is poor doesn't mean she'd resort to stealing. Anyway, is anything else missing from my room?" Sadie hesitated, then swallowed hard. "Yes... The design plans you drew a few days ago. They're gone too." A strange glint flickered in Sadie's eyes. Without warning, she strode toward Brenna and yanked at a thin chain peeking out from her backpack. Isabella gasped, her shock perfectly timed as she took the necklace from Sadie's hand. "Brenna," she murmured, feigning hurt, "how did the engagement necklace Jordy gave me end up in your bag?" She clutched the piece, looking disappointed. "If you needed money, why not just ask Dad? He has supported you all these years--he wouldn't mind giving you more money. But stealing? This would break Mom's and Dad's hearts." At that moment, Alec and Ruby walked over. Alec scowled, disappointment carving deep lines into his face. He exhaled sharply, his tone laced with disapproval as he said, "I offered you money, and you turned it down--only to do this? If you needed help, you could have said something instead of resorting to this disgraceful behavior. This is really shameful! Why did you do this?" Ruby's temper flared instantly. "She must have thought the money was too little! What else could it be? A thousand for travel expenses wasn't enough for her, so she helped herself to something more valuable. One million and eight hundred thousand--her real parents' entire family couldn't make that much in a lifetime!" Isabella reached for Ruby's hand, a pained expression settling on her face. "Mom, please stop. If you keep saying such things, how will Brenna ever face anyone again? I don't think she did it on purpose--maybe she took it by mistake." Alec and Ruby remained silent, though the disdain in their eyes was clear. Inwardly, they had already written Brenna off as a thief. Isabella managed a gentle smile, but a flicker of triumph danced in her eyes as she glanced at the gathering guests around them. This was perfect. With Brenna marked as a thief, she would never find help from Shirie's upper circles. The Barrett family's influence would be forever out of her reach. Isabella turned to Brenna. "Brenna, I'd give you anything, but not this necklace. It's Jordy's engagement gift to me. I know it must be hard--watching him choose me when you were supposed to be engaged to him. But feelings can't be forced, right? Jordy and I love each other deeply. Please, don't come between us. If you need money, I'll give you all my jewelry, okay? Just not this one." As Isabella spoke, tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks like she had just suffered a great injustice. Seeing this, Brenna let out a short, cold laugh. What a waste of talent. Isabella should have been an actress with her acting skills. She believed since they had already staged this drama, it would be impolite not to play along. Brenna flung a glance at the necklace, unimpressed. The chain was thick, the gemstones sizable, but the craftsmanship left much to be desired. The color, cut, and overall design... They were far from top-tier. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something this poorly made," Brenna remarked coolly. "There must be some mistake. When I packed my things in the attic, that necklace wasn't in my bag. But I do recall you holding it in your hand earlier, dear sister. Could it be that you accidentally dropped it into my backpack?" She scoffed, refusing to shoulder the blame. With deliberate calm, she set her backpack on the floor and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the cold surface. "Go ahead. See if there's anything else from the Barrett family in my backpack. If there is, take it. I'd rather not carry the label of a thief." Among the scattered items, a blue folder slid into view. Isabella's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Aren't these my design drafts for new energy auto parts? Brenna, how did they end up in your bag?" She crouched, picking up the folder and flipping through its pages with practiced disbelief. Inside were intricate sketches of mechanical components. She looked at Brenna, shaking her head, disappointment etched across her features. "I never imagined you'd stoop this low. You didn't even finish grade school--what could you possibly want with my design drafts? Planning to sell them?" Brenna rolled her eyes. She didn't need to check--she already knew what those papers were. The nuclear-powered cargo ship component blueprints she had spent an entire night perfecting. How had they become Isabella's? Brenna blinked, suddenly realizing something. Yesterday, Isabella had spent the day seated at the grand dining table, sketching exaggerated designs in an attempt to flaunt her mechanical expertise. The entire household had seen it. That gave Isabella the chance to frame her now. Isabella continued, pointing at the drafts, "You stole them. Just admit it. Since we're family, I'll let it slide." Ruby stepped closer, snatching the folder and scanning its contents. The moment she saw the sketches, her face twisted with fury. "How could I have raised someone like you?" she said to Brenna. "You are such a disgrace!" Brenna remained silent. Her blueprints had clear, unmistakable markings. The title, written in a foreign language, identified them as designs for nuclear-powered cargo ship components. Didn't any of them notice that? Right there in the lower right corner, her personal anti-counterfeit signature gleamed--proof that no one could claim her work as their own. Brenna faced Alec and Ruby. "You both know what I'm capable of," she stated, her voice steady. "A decade ago, you were running a small auto parts factory, barely making about five hundred thousand a year, living in a modest duplex. At that time, you saw my potential. That's why you kept me from school and forced me to stay home and design advanced components for you." Chapter 3 I Thought Your Design Drafts Were Trash Brenna looked at the Barrett family with clear contempt, her expression calm as she revealed the truth to the surrounding guests. "For over a decade, this family has capitalized on my designs--transforming a modest auto parts business into a full-fledged car-manufacturing empire, even securing a public listing. But now that they've outgrown their need for me, they're framing me for theft, all to protect their real daughter. How touching," she said with a snort. Alec's face darkened with fury, his voice rising. "What kind of nonsense is this? You barely made it through grade school. How could you possibly understand mechanical design?" Brenna held her designs up for the gathering guests to see. "Take a good look. This isn't a blueprint for new energy auto parts. It's an advanced cargo ship design. I have no reason to steal from anyone, least of all Isabella." Now, the regret hit her hard. In the past, she had been too young to see through Alec's schemes. She had been too trusting to realize why he had insisted on putting his name on her designs. It was painfully clear now--Alec had been setting this up from the very beginning. Brenna tapped a line of component names on the blueprint. "Read this carefully. It's in Amland's language, and it translates to 'nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system'." Tilting the paper slightly, she pointed to the faint watermark in the lower right corner, which shimmered under the shifting light. "This is my personal mark. You can compare it to Isabella's so-called 'designs'. Her designs are garbage," she said. Just as she finished speaking, Sarah Moss, one of the servants, hesitantly stepped forward, holding an identical folder. "Miss Barrett... I thought these were trash, so I threw them in the trash can. These are your design drafts..." Brenna let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Did you hear that? Even Sarah recognized them as trash." Isabella's face burned with humiliation. She shot Sarah a murderous glare before yanking the folder from her hands and flipping through it in a panic. Then, with a furious growl, she slammed it down. "These designs aren't mine!" she exclaimed. Sarah paled, stammering, "I-I didn't mean to say they were trash! I just... mistakenly thought they were and threw them away..." She trailed off, glancing around awkwardly and realizing there was no way to clarify this without making things worse. Ruby, unwilling to let Isabella be humiliated any further, immediately shifted the attack back onto Brenna. "Oh, please! Look at yourself. Do you really expect us to believe that someone who never even finished grade school designed a nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system? You must have stolen this! People like you bring nothing but disgrace. Don't you dare associate yourself with the Barrett family again from now on!" Brenna didn't spare Ruby a glance. She simply flipped open both her own design drafts and Isabella's, setting them side by side for the crowd to compare. Alec's and Ruby's faces immediately turned dark. Alec clenched his fists, his entire body tense with barely restrained anger. Then, he barked, "Enough with this nonsense! Do you really think you made our family rich? The Barrett family's success is built on my and your brother's hard work. You had nothing to do with it! We clothed and fed you for years, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful brat--get out now!" Ruby, feeding off his rage, didn't hesitate to pile on the lies. "We took you in, gave you everything, spent millions raising you--and you dare act like you're the victim here? Do you think the scraps of talent you brought to this family mean anything compared to what we gave you?" Brenna's eyes turned ice-cold. She believed there was no point in arguing with them. She was leaving, and once she walked out that door, the Barrett family's problems would no longer be hers. "Fine. We will have nothing to do with each other from now on," she said. She bent down to grab her laptop from the floor. However, Isabella was faster. She snatched the sleek black device before Brenna could reach it, holding it tightly in her grasp. "You're so stubborn, Brenna. I was kind enough to offer you a way out earlier, but in return, you throw dirt on me and my family? You make mistakes, refuse to apologize, then try to turn it around on us? This computer must contain confidential information about the Barrett family. You can't take it with you!" Before anyone could react, Isabella grabbed a glass of water from a nearby guest's hand and poured it directly over the keyboard of the laptop. Without warning, Brenna sl**ped Isabella across the face. Then she grabbed the drenched laptop and immediately began drying it off. "How dare you hit me?" Isabella gasped, her face twisted with fury. She raised a trembling hand to strike back--only to be sl**ped again by Brenna. Ruby, a second too late, lunged forward, incensed. "The Barrett family raised you, and this is how you repay us now? By attacking our real daughter?" For years, Ruby had treated Brenna as a convenient target for her frustration, an outlet for her anger. But never--not once--had Brenna retaliated. Ruby wanted to hit Brenna. But something in Brenna's eyes made Ruby falter, her raised hand hanging mid-air. "Mom, she hit me!" Isabella exclaimed, clutching her stinging cheek, her eyes burning with resentment. Ruby grasped Isabella's hand, her breath catching at the sight of the glaring red imprint on her precious daughter's face. "Does it hurt, Isabella?" she asked. Isabella shot Brenna a venomous glare, her fury boiling over as she lifted her leg, aiming a kick at Brenna while she gathered her belongings. Brenna dodged instinctively, smoothly. Securing the last of her things, she turned to face them, her voice icy. "Oh? So it hurts? Mom, when you used me as a punching bag all these years, did you ever ask if I felt hurt? You had no problem beating me senseless, but the second I lay a single hand on your precious daughter, you act like you are heartbroken?" Ruby's eyes flickered with unease for a moment. Then, she recovered quickly, her lips curling in disdain. "And what do you think we took you in for? To pamper you?" "So you're finally admitting what you did to me." Brenna swept a frosty look over the Barrett family, then swung her backpack over her shoulder. Without a word, she turned to leave. Chapter 4 What Do You Think? The July sun blazed mercilessly. Brenna stood beneath the shade of a tree, waiting for her real family, the Harpers' car to arrive. Half an hour had passed, but no one had come. Just then, Brenna's phone suddenly vibrated with a friend request. A note accompanied it. "Hello, I'm Rosie Harper, your sister." Brenna accepted the request without hesitation, and within seconds, she received a message from Rosie. "Hello, I'm Rosie, your sister. Mom, Dad, and our elder brothers are tied up with work today, so they want you to go to Flavor Restaurant first. They've arranged lunch for you there." Doubt crept into Brenna's mind. Was this some kind of scam? Why send her to a restaurant instead of simply giving her the Harper family's address? But not many people knew she was heading to the Harper residence today. Whoever this was had to be a member of the Harper family. A weight settled in Brenna's chest. Her first day home, and they couldn't even bother to pick her up? That said enough about how little they valued her. She doubted this family would be any better than the Barrett family. Another message from Rosie popped up. "Brenna, I'll be waiting for you." Brenna responded with a single word, "Okay." It was nearly impossible to get a taxi at this hour. With no other choice, Brenna took the bus, getting off at Flavor Restaurant. The establishment was the pinnacle of luxury in Shirie, a favorite haunt of the city's elite. Dining here meant dropping at least ten thousand dollars. The moment Brenna pushed the door open and entered the restaurant, a blast of crisp, cool air wrapped around her, shielding her from the suffocating summer heat. Her lungs felt lighter instantly. The restaurant was quiet, nearly empty. No one paid her any attention--except for a waitress who approached her with a polite smile. The waitress was a young woman, pretty and probably in her early twenties. She wore a tailored red uniform, exuding professionalism. "Welcome, Miss. Are you Brenna Harper?" "Yes. The Harpers asked me to meet them here. Could you tell me which room they're in?" Brenna's eyes scanned the space. No one seemed to be waiting for her, which meant the Harper family was likely in a private room. The waitress kept her polished smile intact, subtly studying Brenna's casual outfit--a plain white T-shirt featuring a video game character, layered under an oversized striped shirt that draped past her frayed denim shorts. A worn baseball cap sat atop her head, partially hiding wavy hair streaked with deep blue. Brenna's skin was smooth, her facial features delicate yet striking. The bold blue lipstick added an edge to her look. Her voice was crisp, clear, effortlessly drawing attention from nearby tables. "Miss, please follow me." The waitress gestured toward a table before continuing, "A woman from the Harper family waited for you here for over an hour but had to leave for something urgent. She'll be back shortly. She ordered for you, so please sit down. The dishes will arrive soon." The table was set for six. Brenna chose the chair facing the door, tossing her backpack onto the seat beside her. Moments later, the waitress returned with a glass of fresh orange juice. "Please enjoy. The food will be out shortly," she said politely. Brenna nodded and thanked the waitress, though confusion lingered in her mind. Wasn't the Harper family supposed to be struggling financially? Why invite her to a restaurant this extravagant? She couldn't make sense of what the Harper family was up to. Pulling out her phone, she sent Rosie a message. "I'm here already. When will you join me?" Rosie responded soon, "I'm in a meeting right now. Might take a while. Go ahead and eat--no need to wait for me." A meeting? Brenna furrowed her brows upon seeing the message. Weren't the Harpers supposed to live in a poor, remote village? If that were true, how was Rosie in a meeting? Could the information she had gotten about the Harper family be false? She glanced around, noting the semi-private booths by the windows. The occupants were hidden from view, but the soft murmur of conversation trickled through the air. Soon, the waitress wheeled over a cart, and in moments, the table was filled with beautifully plated dishes--small portions, but meticulously crafted. Meanwhile, in one of the semi-private booths, three women sat around a table, their table adorned with steak and orange juice. A woman in a white dress set her phone down, a faint smile curving her lips. "So? What do you think?" This was Rosie Harper. She was actually Brenna's cousin. But she was raised by Brenna's parents after her own parents had passed away. Brenna's parents treated her like she was their daughter. Sitting across from her were her friends, Sylvie Higgins and Vivian Morrison, both from prominent families. Their outfits were impeccable, their makeup flawless, their table manners practiced to perfection. The three had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything. Sylvie tilted her head. "Her face is decent, but her fashion sense is a disaster," she remarked, snapping a few photos. She then arranged them into a collage. The centerpiece of the collage was a photo of Brenna eating, her face blurred out. Sylvie soon posted the photos. The caption read, "Flavor Restaurant, spotted a beauty." Vivian casually liked the post before saying, "She's got a bit of a wild look." Then, with a teasing smirk, she cast a sideways glance at Rosie and added, "Ethan might find that appealing." Rosie's smile faltered. The last thing she wanted was for her fiancé to take an interest in Brenna. The marriage agreement between the Mitchell and Harper families required a Harper member to marry the son of the Mitchell family--but it had never specified who. She shot Vivian a warning look. "Don't say things like that." Sylvie leaned in, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Vivian's got a point. Brenna's got the kind of figure men tend to notice. Imagine Ethan's reaction if he saw her like this." Rosie scowled as she responded, "It doesn't matter how pretty she is or what kind of figure she has. After today's events, Ethan won't spare her a second glance." The three shared a quiet laugh. Sylvie's eyes flicked toward Brenna's table, where most of the food had already been eaten. "She's got quite the appetite," she remarked. "Maybe the Barretts didn't feed her well? Just look at the way she's devouring everything--it's obvious she has never had gourmet dining before." Chapter 5 You Really Shouldn't Have Come Here In The First Place Sylvie set her phone on the table, tilting the screen toward her two friends as she shook her head in mock disbelief. Clicking her tongue, she smirked. "Who would've guessed? The Barretts' adopted daughter didn't even finish grade school and started mingling in social circles at ten. Hey, how many boyfriends do you think she's had?" Rosie picked up the phone, her eyes narrowing as she read the information about Brenna. There were also photos of Brenna from different periods, her rebellious fashion sense on full display. Some shots showed her in bold, dramatic makeup, and some showed her surrounded by men--none of the men looked ordinary, and a few were noticeably older than her. "Where did you get this from?" Rosie asked, intrigued. "I tried digging into her background before but came up with nothing." Sylvie leaned back with a proud smile. "I had my brother ask his friend to investigate. Turns out, Brenna has been skipping school and picking fights since she was a kid. At one point, she even had to leave the country because she couldn't stay here anymore." Rosie was stunned, her brows raised. "If she becomes a member of my family, won't that be a disaster?" Sylvie's grin widened. "Isn't that the best part?" After a while, Rosie chuckled. "I suppose it is." Brenna ate without pretense, not because she had poor manners but because of sheer hunger. By the time she had cleared half the dishes, she finally felt a lot better. Yet, the Harper family was still nowhere to be seen. She glanced at her phone--it was two in the afternoon. No word from them. She sent a message to Rosie. "When are you coming?" Rosie's reply came almost instantly. "Sorry, I might not make it today. Just leave when you're done eating. I'll cover the bill." A slow, knowing smirk crept onto Rosie's lips as she sent the message. She then swiftly typed another to the waitress. As if on cue, the waitress who had been attending to Brenna approached her again, moving at a leisurely pace. By now, Brenna had pulled out her bulky black laptop and opened a stock trading page, the screen glowing faintly. The waitress, noticing the outdated model of Brenna's laptop, barely concealed her disdain but tried hard to keep her tone polished. "Miss, could you please settle the bill?" Brenna blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't even indicated she was ready to leave, yet the waitress was already rushing her to pay? When had the Flavor Restaurant's customer service become so terrible? She turned the screen of her phone toward the waitress, showing her Rosie's message, her voice calm. "My friend said she'd handle the bill. Her name is Rosie Harper." The waitress didn't drop her professional smile. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't know your friend. The total is one hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars. If you're unable to pay, I'll have no choice but to call the police." From the booth, Rosie watched the scene with delight. She was curious to see what Brenna would do. Would she grovel to the Barretts for help? Or would she work off the debt scrubbing dishes for a year? Or perhaps she would resort to a classic dine-and-dash, flexing the street smarts she was rumored to have? Her fingers tightened around her phone as she silently recorded the scene. Just then, Vivian and Sylvie sauntered toward Brenna's table. The commotion had also drawn the attention of nearby diners, who discreetly raised their phones, capturing the scene. Vivian's eyes swept over Brenna with thinly veiled contempt. "Miss, if you can't afford to eat here, you really shouldn't have come here in the first place. This place is for the elite. You'd be better off at a restaurant more suited to your status." Sylvie smirked and folded her arms. "The minimum spend here is ten grand. I doubt you make that in a month. Tell you what, my family's looking for someone to clean the toilets. Work for my family for a month, and I'll cover your bill. What do you say?" Vivian let out a soft chuckle. "That's generous, Sylvie. If you'd rather not scrub toilets, Miss, I can pay for you instead. No cleaning necessary--just get on your knees and polish my shoes. Then I'll settle the bill for you." Clicks echoed through the room as more people snapped photos, some already posting the drama online. Seeing this, Rosie was very pleased. The people she had hired were doing their job perfectly, each capturing the scene and sharing it on social media. She believed that soon enough, Brenna's name would be dragged through the mud, and neither the Harper family nor Ethan would want anything to do with her. In an attempt to portray herself as the kind person who cleaned up the mess for Brenna later, Rosie sneaked out into the scorching heat, closely monitoring the chaos within. Vivian turned to the waitress, reaching into her designer bag. "How much is her bill?" she asked, pulling out a thick stack of cash and dropping it onto the table. She looked at Brenna. "Do as we say, and we'll cover your bill." The waitress answered promptly, "One hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars." Brenna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes shifting between the two women before her. Judging by their outfits and attitudes, they were definitely from wealthy families--spoiled, entitled, and clearly here to target her. She hadn't offended them before, yet here they were, going out of their way to humiliate her. Someone was obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes. "Who do you think you are, barking in front of me? I don't even know you," she said. Before either Sylvie or Vivian could respond, Brenna glanced toward the staircase. A tall man had just arrived, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes gleamed like polished obsidian beneath perfectly arched brows. He had a chiseled nose, thin yet defined lips, and a jawline so precise that it looked sculpted by a master artisan. The man frowned as he surveyed the scene, his handsome face darkened by unmistakable displeasure. It was clear he had already pieced together what was happening. And yet, even with such a stunning man in the room, Brenna remained unaffected. A handsome face wouldn't distract her from the fools still yapping in front of her. Sylvie and Vivian, not seeing the man behind them, were fuming. Vivian, seething from Brenna's insult, raised her hand, ready to sl*p Brenna across the face. But the next second, a firm hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Vivian's breath caught as she turned sharply, ready to lash out--until her eyes locked onto the man holding her back. Her heart sank. Why was Ethan Mitchell here? "E-Ethan?" she stammered. ...... What happens next? 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Her adoptive parents used her design talent to make a fortune for twenty years. But once their biological daughter was found, she was framed and expelled from home. Unexpectedly, her supposedly poor biological parents turned out to be the richest people in the city. She became the daughter of a top wealthy family and was spoiled by them! ===== "Brenna, why must it come to this? Yes, we've found our biological daughter, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. You know our family's wealth--taking care of one more person isn't a burden. If you ask me, you should stay. Your mom and I will treat you no differently than before." At the Barrett family's residence in Shirie, in the cramped, airless attic on the third floor, Brenna Barrett was packing her belongings. Meanwhile, the grand living room on the first floor buzzed with conversation, guests swirling glasses of champagne as they exchanged pleasantries. A towering banner with the words "Welcome Home, Beloved Daughter" stretched across the entrance. "But if you're determined to leave, I won't stop you. Still, your family is barely scraping by. I doubt they can even send a car to pick you up. Take this money--at least let it cover your travel expenses." Alec Barrett, Brenna's adoptive father, stood before her, an envelope in his hand. He set it down gently before Brenna, his face lined with feigned reluctance. Brenna's eyes flicked to the slim envelope. She was already certain it held no more than a thousand dollars. Without a hint of hesitation, she pushed it back toward Alec, her expression cold. "I don't need it. My parents have already sent a car for me." She scoffed inwardly. What a laughable attempt to make her stay. Persuading her to stay while already offering her travel money? The Barrett family had taken her in when she was barely past her second birthday, a replacement for the daughter Ruby Barrett had lost--a child stolen from the hospital the day she was born. Drowning in grief, Ruby had grasped at the idea of adoption, convincing herself it would ease the ache of her loss. But Brenna had never been a daughter for the Barrett family in anything more than name. She had spent her childhood in hand-me-downs from discount racks, scraping by on leftovers while serving as a servant in the Barrett household. When she had gotten older, Alec had stumbled upon her natural flair for design. Even her casual sketches outshone those of seasoned professionals, their market value undeniable. That was when everything changed. The Barrett family had stopped her from going to school. She had become their hidden asset, locked away to draft blueprints for car parts and even entire vehicles. They knew exactly how much of their wealth was earned by her. Without Brenna, they would have never broken into Shirie's elite circles, never had the means to throw this lavish welcome party for their biological daughter, with influential figures from all walks of life attending. And now that their fortune had just begun to flourish, they didn't want to keep Brenna anymore. The Barretts were eager to kick her out of the family, their selfishness laid bare. Alec sighed and shoved the envelope into Brenna's bag. He said, "They've sent a car to pick you up? I find that hard to believe. I looked into your biological family. Your parents have two sons, and your only uncle is bedridden, unable to care for himself. They live in a struggling village--barely making ends meet. They don't have the luxury to come pick you up. You've been living in comfort here, spending freely. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of hardship? Just take the money..." Brenna pulled the envelope out of her bag and placed it on the table with quiet finality. "Goodbye." She didn't notice Isabella Barrett, Alec and Ruby's biological daughter, slipping something into the side pocket of her backpack. Without another glance, Brenna hoisted her black backpack over one shoulder and strode downstairs, leaving the Barretts behind. Ruby, watching Brenna disappear down the stairs, clenched her jaw. "Look at that! She showed me no gratitude at all. I housed and fed her for twenty years, and she didn't have a single word of thanks before leaving me? Someone like that is bound to end up begging in the streets!" Isabella looped her arm through Ruby's, her voice soft, almost soothing. "Mom, don't let her get to you. She never even finished school and was thrown into social circles at ten. How could she possibly have proper manners? She's walking away from a privileged life now--she'll be lucky if she doesn't starve. It's understandable if she's in a foul mood. Let me go see her off." Ruby frowned, grabbing Isabella's wrist to stop her. "Why bother? She's ungrateful. She doesn't deserve it." "Mom," Isabella said, her smile sweet, "since I came back, Brenna has treated me well. This might be the last time we ever see each other. It's only right that I say goodbye to her properly." She gave the jewelry box in her hand a little shake, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I have a parting gift for her." With that, she hurried after Brenna, Alec and Ruby following behind. "Brenna!" Isabella called out, her voice warm and sweet as she lightly jogged forward. "You're leaving so quickly? I haven't given you the gift I got for you." She extended her palm, revealing a square red box. Inside lay a white jade bracelet, its surface smooth and luminous. It was undoubtedly of high quality. Brenna gave it a brief glance. She recognized the bracelet's good quality--it was probably worth a decent sum. Her voice was cold as she said, "No, thanks. You keep it." Isabella's expression didn't falter as she nudged the box into Brenna's hand. "You should take it. I spent over a hundred thousand on this bracelet. If things ever get tough, you can sell it for emergencies. It could come in handy someday." Before Brenna could refuse again, Isabella snapped the box shut and tucked it into Brenna's backpack herself. Just then, a flustered maid rushed over and exclaimed, "Miss Barrett, terrible news! The engagement necklace Mr. Barton gifted you is missing!" Chapter 2 Accused Of Stealing Isabella froze mid-motion upon hearing that, the jewelry box still clutched in her fingers as she slipped it into Brenna's backpack. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you just say? That gemstone necklace is a gift from Jordy. It costs one million and eight hundred thousand! It has ten top-tier gems, each hand-selected. I left it on the table. How could it just vanish? Are you sure you checked properly?" Brenna observed the unfolding scene intently, her expression impassive. She could already see the setup, the neatly arranged trap. The servant's name was Sadie Brown. Her face went ghostly white, her hands visibly trembling. "Miss Barrett, I searched everywhere--every corner, every drawer--but it's gone. Could someone have taken it?" With that, Sadie's eyes landed on Brenna, suspicion darkening her expression. She didn't need to say it outright--her eyes did the accusing for her. Isabella shot her a sharp look. "What are you staring at? Just because Brenna's real family is poor doesn't mean she'd resort to stealing. Anyway, is anything else missing from my room?" Sadie hesitated, then swallowed hard. "Yes... The design plans you drew a few days ago. They're gone too." A strange glint flickered in Sadie's eyes. Without warning, she strode toward Brenna and yanked at a thin chain peeking out from her backpack. Isabella gasped, her shock perfectly timed as she took the necklace from Sadie's hand. "Brenna," she murmured, feigning hurt, "how did the engagement necklace Jordy gave me end up in your bag?" She clutched the piece, looking disappointed. "If you needed money, why not just ask Dad? He has supported you all these years--he wouldn't mind giving you more money. But stealing? This would break Mom's and Dad's hearts." At that moment, Alec and Ruby walked over. Alec scowled, disappointment carving deep lines into his face. He exhaled sharply, his tone laced with disapproval as he said, "I offered you money, and you turned it down--only to do this? If you needed help, you could have said something instead of resorting to this disgraceful behavior. This is really shameful! Why did you do this?" Ruby's temper flared instantly. "She must have thought the money was too little! What else could it be? A thousand for travel expenses wasn't enough for her, so she helped herself to something more valuable. One million and eight hundred thousand--her real parents' entire family couldn't make that much in a lifetime!" Isabella reached for Ruby's hand, a pained expression settling on her face. "Mom, please stop. If you keep saying such things, how will Brenna ever face anyone again? I don't think she did it on purpose--maybe she took it by mistake." Alec and Ruby remained silent, though the disdain in their eyes was clear. Inwardly, they had already written Brenna off as a thief. Isabella managed a gentle smile, but a flicker of triumph danced in her eyes as she glanced at the gathering guests around them. This was perfect. With Brenna marked as a thief, she would never find help from Shirie's upper circles. The Barrett family's influence would be forever out of her reach. Isabella turned to Brenna. "Brenna, I'd give you anything, but not this necklace. It's Jordy's engagement gift to me. I know it must be hard--watching him choose me when you were supposed to be engaged to him. But feelings can't be forced, right? Jordy and I love each other deeply. Please, don't come between us. If you need money, I'll give you all my jewelry, okay? Just not this one." As Isabella spoke, tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks like she had just suffered a great injustice. Seeing this, Brenna let out a short, cold laugh. What a waste of talent. Isabella should have been an actress with her acting skills. She believed since they had already staged this drama, it would be impolite not to play along. Brenna flung a glance at the necklace, unimpressed. The chain was thick, the gemstones sizable, but the craftsmanship left much to be desired. The color, cut, and overall design... They were far from top-tier. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something this poorly made," Brenna remarked coolly. "There must be some mistake. When I packed my things in the attic, that necklace wasn't in my bag. But I do recall you holding it in your hand earlier, dear sister. Could it be that you accidentally dropped it into my backpack?" She scoffed, refusing to shoulder the blame. With deliberate calm, she set her backpack on the floor and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the cold surface. "Go ahead. See if there's anything else from the Barrett family in my backpack. If there is, take it. I'd rather not carry the label of a thief." Among the scattered items, a blue folder slid into view. Isabella's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Aren't these my design drafts for new energy auto parts? Brenna, how did they end up in your bag?" She crouched, picking up the folder and flipping through its pages with practiced disbelief. Inside were intricate sketches of mechanical components. She looked at Brenna, shaking her head, disappointment etched across her features. "I never imagined you'd stoop this low. You didn't even finish grade school--what could you possibly want with my design drafts? Planning to sell them?" Brenna rolled her eyes. She didn't need to check--she already knew what those papers were. The nuclear-powered cargo ship component blueprints she had spent an entire night perfecting. How had they become Isabella's? Brenna blinked, suddenly realizing something. Yesterday, Isabella had spent the day seated at the grand dining table, sketching exaggerated designs in an attempt to flaunt her mechanical expertise. The entire household had seen it. That gave Isabella the chance to frame her now. Isabella continued, pointing at the drafts, "You stole them. Just admit it. Since we're family, I'll let it slide." Ruby stepped closer, snatching the folder and scanning its contents. The moment she saw the sketches, her face twisted with fury. "How could I have raised someone like you?" she said to Brenna. "You are such a disgrace!" Brenna remained silent. Her blueprints had clear, unmistakable markings. The title, written in a foreign language, identified them as designs for nuclear-powered cargo ship components. Didn't any of them notice that? Right there in the lower right corner, her personal anti-counterfeit signature gleamed--proof that no one could claim her work as their own. Brenna faced Alec and Ruby. "You both know what I'm capable of," she stated, her voice steady. "A decade ago, you were running a small auto parts factory, barely making about five hundred thousand a year, living in a modest duplex. At that time, you saw my potential. That's why you kept me from school and forced me to stay home and design advanced components for you." Chapter 3 I Thought Your Design Drafts Were Trash Brenna looked at the Barrett family with clear contempt, her expression calm as she revealed the truth to the surrounding guests. "For over a decade, this family has capitalized on my designs--transforming a modest auto parts business into a full-fledged car-manufacturing empire, even securing a public listing. But now that they've outgrown their need for me, they're framing me for theft, all to protect their real daughter. How touching," she said with a snort. Alec's face darkened with fury, his voice rising. "What kind of nonsense is this? You barely made it through grade school. How could you possibly understand mechanical design?" Brenna held her designs up for the gathering guests to see. "Take a good look. This isn't a blueprint for new energy auto parts. It's an advanced cargo ship design. I have no reason to steal from anyone, least of all Isabella." Now, the regret hit her hard. In the past, she had been too young to see through Alec's schemes. She had been too trusting to realize why he had insisted on putting his name on her designs. It was painfully clear now--Alec had been setting this up from the very beginning. Brenna tapped a line of component names on the blueprint. "Read this carefully. It's in Amland's language, and it translates to 'nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system'." Tilting the paper slightly, she pointed to the faint watermark in the lower right corner, which shimmered under the shifting light. "This is my personal mark. You can compare it to Isabella's so-called 'designs'. Her designs are garbage," she said. Just as she finished speaking, Sarah Moss, one of the servants, hesitantly stepped forward, holding an identical folder. "Miss Barrett... I thought these were trash, so I threw them in the trash can. These are your design drafts..." Brenna let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Did you hear that? Even Sarah recognized them as trash." Isabella's face burned with humiliation. She shot Sarah a murderous glare before yanking the folder from her hands and flipping through it in a panic. Then, with a furious growl, she slammed it down. "These designs aren't mine!" she exclaimed. Sarah paled, stammering, "I-I didn't mean to say they were trash! I just... mistakenly thought they were and threw them away..." She trailed off, glancing around awkwardly and realizing there was no way to clarify this without making things worse. Ruby, unwilling to let Isabella be humiliated any further, immediately shifted the attack back onto Brenna. "Oh, please! Look at yourself. Do you really expect us to believe that someone who never even finished grade school designed a nuclear-powered cargo ship propulsion system? You must have stolen this! People like you bring nothing but disgrace. Don't you dare associate yourself with the Barrett family again from now on!" Brenna didn't spare Ruby a glance. She simply flipped open both her own design drafts and Isabella's, setting them side by side for the crowd to compare. Alec's and Ruby's faces immediately turned dark. Alec clenched his fists, his entire body tense with barely restrained anger. Then, he barked, "Enough with this nonsense! Do you really think you made our family rich? The Barrett family's success is built on my and your brother's hard work. You had nothing to do with it! We clothed and fed you for years, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful brat--get out now!" Ruby, feeding off his rage, didn't hesitate to pile on the lies. "We took you in, gave you everything, spent millions raising you--and you dare act like you're the victim here? Do you think the scraps of talent you brought to this family mean anything compared to what we gave you?" Brenna's eyes turned ice-cold. She believed there was no point in arguing with them. She was leaving, and once she walked out that door, the Barrett family's problems would no longer be hers. "Fine. We will have nothing to do with each other from now on," she said. She bent down to grab her laptop from the floor. However, Isabella was faster. She snatched the sleek black device before Brenna could reach it, holding it tightly in her grasp. "You're so stubborn, Brenna. I was kind enough to offer you a way out earlier, but in return, you throw dirt on me and my family? You make mistakes, refuse to apologize, then try to turn it around on us? This computer must contain confidential information about the Barrett family. You can't take it with you!" Before anyone could react, Isabella grabbed a glass of water from a nearby guest's hand and poured it directly over the keyboard of the laptop. Without warning, Brenna sl**ped Isabella across the face. Then she grabbed the drenched laptop and immediately began drying it off. "How dare you hit me?" Isabella gasped, her face twisted with fury. She raised a trembling hand to strike back--only to be sl**ped again by Brenna. Ruby, a second too late, lunged forward, incensed. "The Barrett family raised you, and this is how you repay us now? By attacking our real daughter?" For years, Ruby had treated Brenna as a convenient target for her frustration, an outlet for her anger. But never--not once--had Brenna retaliated. Ruby wanted to hit Brenna. But something in Brenna's eyes made Ruby falter, her raised hand hanging mid-air. "Mom, she hit me!" Isabella exclaimed, clutching her stinging cheek, her eyes burning with resentment. Ruby grasped Isabella's hand, her breath catching at the sight of the glaring red imprint on her precious daughter's face. "Does it hurt, Isabella?" she asked. Isabella shot Brenna a venomous glare, her fury boiling over as she lifted her leg, aiming a kick at Brenna while she gathered her belongings. Brenna dodged instinctively, smoothly. Securing the last of her things, she turned to face them, her voice icy. "Oh? So it hurts? Mom, when you used me as a punching bag all these years, did you ever ask if I felt hurt? You had no problem beating me senseless, but the second I lay a single hand on your precious daughter, you act like you are heartbroken?" Ruby's eyes flickered with unease for a moment. Then, she recovered quickly, her lips curling in disdain. "And what do you think we took you in for? To pamper you?" "So you're finally admitting what you did to me." Brenna swept a frosty look over the Barrett family, then swung her backpack over her shoulder. Without a word, she turned to leave. Chapter 4 What Do You Think? The July sun blazed mercilessly. Brenna stood beneath the shade of a tree, waiting for her real family, the Harpers' car to arrive. Half an hour had passed, but no one had come. Just then, Brenna's phone suddenly vibrated with a friend request. A note accompanied it. "Hello, I'm Rosie Harper, your sister." Brenna accepted the request without hesitation, and within seconds, she received a message from Rosie. "Hello, I'm Rosie, your sister. Mom, Dad, and our elder brothers are tied up with work today, so they want you to go to Flavor Restaurant first. They've arranged lunch for you there." Doubt crept into Brenna's mind. Was this some kind of scam? Why send her to a restaurant instead of simply giving her the Harper family's address? But not many people knew she was heading to the Harper residence today. Whoever this was had to be a member of the Harper family. A weight settled in Brenna's chest. Her first day home, and they couldn't even bother to pick her up? That said enough about how little they valued her. She doubted this family would be any better than the Barrett family. Another message from Rosie popped up. "Brenna, I'll be waiting for you." Brenna responded with a single word, "Okay." It was nearly impossible to get a taxi at this hour. With no other choice, Brenna took the bus, getting off at Flavor Restaurant. The establishment was the pinnacle of luxury in Shirie, a favorite haunt of the city's elite. Dining here meant dropping at least ten thousand dollars. The moment Brenna pushed the door open and entered the restaurant, a blast of crisp, cool air wrapped around her, shielding her from the suffocating summer heat. Her lungs felt lighter instantly. The restaurant was quiet, nearly empty. No one paid her any attention--except for a waitress who approached her with a polite smile. The waitress was a young woman, pretty and probably in her early twenties. She wore a tailored red uniform, exuding professionalism. "Welcome, Miss. Are you Brenna Harper?" "Yes. The Harpers asked me to meet them here. Could you tell me which room they're in?" Brenna's eyes scanned the space. No one seemed to be waiting for her, which meant the Harper family was likely in a private room. The waitress kept her polished smile intact, subtly studying Brenna's casual outfit--a plain white T-shirt featuring a video game character, layered under an oversized striped shirt that draped past her frayed denim shorts. A worn baseball cap sat atop her head, partially hiding wavy hair streaked with deep blue. Brenna's skin was smooth, her facial features delicate yet striking. The bold blue lipstick added an edge to her look. Her voice was crisp, clear, effortlessly drawing attention from nearby tables. "Miss, please follow me." The waitress gestured toward a table before continuing, "A woman from the Harper family waited for you here for over an hour but had to leave for something urgent. She'll be back shortly. She ordered for you, so please sit down. The dishes will arrive soon." The table was set for six. Brenna chose the chair facing the door, tossing her backpack onto the seat beside her. Moments later, the waitress returned with a glass of fresh orange juice. "Please enjoy. The food will be out shortly," she said politely. Brenna nodded and thanked the waitress, though confusion lingered in her mind. Wasn't the Harper family supposed to be struggling financially? Why invite her to a restaurant this extravagant? She couldn't make sense of what the Harper family was up to. Pulling out her phone, she sent Rosie a message. "I'm here already. When will you join me?" Rosie responded soon, "I'm in a meeting right now. Might take a while. Go ahead and eat--no need to wait for me." A meeting? Brenna furrowed her brows upon seeing the message. Weren't the Harpers supposed to live in a poor, remote village? If that were true, how was Rosie in a meeting? Could the information she had gotten about the Harper family be false? She glanced around, noting the semi-private booths by the windows. The occupants were hidden from view, but the soft murmur of conversation trickled through the air. Soon, the waitress wheeled over a cart, and in moments, the table was filled with beautifully plated dishes--small portions, but meticulously crafted. Meanwhile, in one of the semi-private booths, three women sat around a table, their table adorned with steak and orange juice. A woman in a white dress set her phone down, a faint smile curving her lips. "So? What do you think?" This was Rosie Harper. She was actually Brenna's cousin. But she was raised by Brenna's parents after her own parents had passed away. Brenna's parents treated her like she was their daughter. Sitting across from her were her friends, Sylvie Higgins and Vivian Morrison, both from prominent families. Their outfits were impeccable, their makeup flawless, their table manners practiced to perfection. The three had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything. Sylvie tilted her head. "Her face is decent, but her fashion sense is a disaster," she remarked, snapping a few photos. She then arranged them into a collage. The centerpiece of the collage was a photo of Brenna eating, her face blurred out. Sylvie soon posted the photos. The caption read, "Flavor Restaurant, spotted a beauty." Vivian casually liked the post before saying, "She's got a bit of a wild look." Then, with a teasing smirk, she cast a sideways glance at Rosie and added, "Ethan might find that appealing." Rosie's smile faltered. The last thing she wanted was for her fiancé to take an interest in Brenna. The marriage agreement between the Mitchell and Harper families required a Harper member to marry the son of the Mitchell family--but it had never specified who. She shot Vivian a warning look. "Don't say things like that." Sylvie leaned in, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Vivian's got a point. Brenna's got the kind of figure men tend to notice. Imagine Ethan's reaction if he saw her like this." Rosie scowled as she responded, "It doesn't matter how pretty she is or what kind of figure she has. After today's events, Ethan won't spare her a second glance." The three shared a quiet laugh. Sylvie's eyes flicked toward Brenna's table, where most of the food had already been eaten. "She's got quite the appetite," she remarked. "Maybe the Barretts didn't feed her well? Just look at the way she's devouring everything--it's obvious she has never had gourmet dining before." Chapter 5 You Really Shouldn't Have Come Here In The First Place Sylvie set her phone on the table, tilting the screen toward her two friends as she shook her head in mock disbelief. Clicking her tongue, she smirked. "Who would've guessed? The Barretts' adopted daughter didn't even finish grade school and started mingling in social circles at ten. Hey, how many boyfriends do you think she's had?" Rosie picked up the phone, her eyes narrowing as she read the information about Brenna. There were also photos of Brenna from different periods, her rebellious fashion sense on full display. Some shots showed her in bold, dramatic makeup, and some showed her surrounded by men--none of the men looked ordinary, and a few were noticeably older than her. "Where did you get this from?" Rosie asked, intrigued. "I tried digging into her background before but came up with nothing." Sylvie leaned back with a proud smile. "I had my brother ask his friend to investigate. Turns out, Brenna has been skipping school and picking fights since she was a kid. At one point, she even had to leave the country because she couldn't stay here anymore." Rosie was stunned, her brows raised. "If she becomes a member of my family, won't that be a disaster?" Sylvie's grin widened. "Isn't that the best part?" After a while, Rosie chuckled. "I suppose it is." Brenna ate without pretense, not because she had poor manners but because of sheer hunger. By the time she had cleared half the dishes, she finally felt a lot better. Yet, the Harper family was still nowhere to be seen. She glanced at her phone--it was two in the afternoon. No word from them. She sent a message to Rosie. "When are you coming?" Rosie's reply came almost instantly. "Sorry, I might not make it today. Just leave when you're done eating. I'll cover the bill." A slow, knowing smirk crept onto Rosie's lips as she sent the message. She then swiftly typed another to the waitress. As if on cue, the waitress who had been attending to Brenna approached her again, moving at a leisurely pace. By now, Brenna had pulled out her bulky black laptop and opened a stock trading page, the screen glowing faintly. The waitress, noticing the outdated model of Brenna's laptop, barely concealed her disdain but tried hard to keep her tone polished. "Miss, could you please settle the bill?" Brenna blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't even indicated she was ready to leave, yet the waitress was already rushing her to pay? When had the Flavor Restaurant's customer service become so terrible? She turned the screen of her phone toward the waitress, showing her Rosie's message, her voice calm. "My friend said she'd handle the bill. Her name is Rosie Harper." The waitress didn't drop her professional smile. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I don't know your friend. The total is one hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars. If you're unable to pay, I'll have no choice but to call the police." From the booth, Rosie watched the scene with delight. She was curious to see what Brenna would do. Would she grovel to the Barretts for help? Or would she work off the debt scrubbing dishes for a year? Or perhaps she would resort to a classic dine-and-dash, flexing the street smarts she was rumored to have? Her fingers tightened around her phone as she silently recorded the scene. Just then, Vivian and Sylvie sauntered toward Brenna's table. The commotion had also drawn the attention of nearby diners, who discreetly raised their phones, capturing the scene. Vivian's eyes swept over Brenna with thinly veiled contempt. "Miss, if you can't afford to eat here, you really shouldn't have come here in the first place. This place is for the elite. You'd be better off at a restaurant more suited to your status." Sylvie smirked and folded her arms. "The minimum spend here is ten grand. I doubt you make that in a month. Tell you what, my family's looking for someone to clean the toilets. Work for my family for a month, and I'll cover your bill. What do you say?" Vivian let out a soft chuckle. "That's generous, Sylvie. If you'd rather not scrub toilets, Miss, I can pay for you instead. No cleaning necessary--just get on your knees and polish my shoes. Then I'll settle the bill for you." Clicks echoed through the room as more people snapped photos, some already posting the drama online. Seeing this, Rosie was very pleased. The people she had hired were doing their job perfectly, each capturing the scene and sharing it on social media. She believed that soon enough, Brenna's name would be dragged through the mud, and neither the Harper family nor Ethan would want anything to do with her. In an attempt to portray herself as the kind person who cleaned up the mess for Brenna later, Rosie sneaked out into the scorching heat, closely monitoring the chaos within. Vivian turned to the waitress, reaching into her designer bag. "How much is her bill?" she asked, pulling out a thick stack of cash and dropping it onto the table. She looked at Brenna. "Do as we say, and we'll cover your bill." The waitress answered promptly, "One hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars." Brenna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes shifting between the two women before her. Judging by their outfits and attitudes, they were definitely from wealthy families--spoiled, entitled, and clearly here to target her. She hadn't offended them before, yet here they were, going out of their way to humiliate her. Someone was obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes. "Who do you think you are, barking in front of me? I don't even know you," she said. Before either Sylvie or Vivian could respond, Brenna glanced toward the staircase. A tall man had just arrived, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes gleamed like polished obsidian beneath perfectly arched brows. He had a chiseled nose, thin yet defined lips, and a jawline so precise that it looked sculpted by a master artisan. The man frowned as he surveyed the scene, his handsome face darkened by unmistakable displeasure. It was clear he had already pieced together what was happening. And yet, even with such a stunning man in the room, Brenna remained unaffected. A handsome face wouldn't distract her from the fools still yapping in front of her. Sylvie and Vivian, not seeing the man behind them, were fuming. Vivian, seething from Brenna's insult, raised her hand, ready to sl*p Brenna across the face. But the next second, a firm hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Vivian's breath caught as she turned sharply, ready to lash out--until her eyes locked onto the man holding her back. Her heart sank. Why was Ethan Mitchell here? "E-Ethan?" she stammered. ...... What happens next? 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My stepbrother slipped into my sleeping bag, and he wasn't wearing a thing. "Take off your clothes, bookworm," he growled, his body searing against mine. "We're siblings, Austin. Stop." I trembled, but he didn't pull back. He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear. "Stepsiblings.There's a difference." His hand moved lower, tracing fire across my skin. "And besides... I’ve been watching you for months, dying to ruin your innocence."... Elizabeth I didn't mind camping. As long as it came with a hotel room or an air-conditioned RV. But my parents? They like it rough. Fine. I got dragged along. So I was swatting bugs and trying not to trip over the backpack my dad had stuffed full of supplies. Mosquitoes treated me like a walking Slurpee. The only thing keeping me sane? The Kindle in my pack. Once we reached the campsite, I planned to check out of real life completely. Dad and my stepmother lead the charge at the front, climbed over the fallen tree trunks and roots. I followed then, stare at my feet to make sure I didn’t fall over. If I did, my step-brother Austin, whose eyes on me the whole time, probably either step right over me or mock me straight to my face. Either way would destroy what little self-esteem I still had. “Here it is! Home sweet home for the next few days!” Dad bellowed in the announcement as we finally reached the campsite. It honestly wasn’t much. The lake was pretty but covered in algae and more buzzing flying bugs, the picnic table was more like some sawdust somehow taking shape, and the fire pit was just a pile of ashes surrounded by scorched stones. “How beautiful,” Grace gushed anyway, eyes twinkling in happiness as Dad proudly took her to the lake to show off the site. I dropped my backpack onto the ground, felt Austin nudge me with his elbow. I glanced up at him, swallowed against a tight throat. “Did you bring sunscreen?” I nodded. “Then you’d better use it, your ears are really red.” He said, grinning at me. “Okay.” I swallowed as I avoided his gaze. He walked away and I sighed in relief. Truth be told, ever since our parents got married, I’d been battling a secret. I had a massive crush on Austin. Honestly, though, who wouldn’t? Tall, athletic build with gorgeous green eyes and tousled sandy blonde hair that framed his face so perfectly. He was ridiculously good-looking. “Alright, kids, let’s get the tents set up so we can wander around later.” Dad tossed us a tent, signaling that Austin and I should team up to put it up. The others, he and Grace would handle them. I had never set up a tent before, so Austin had to stand beside me and teach me each step. “Bookworm, all books you read are useless, they didn’t even teach you how to pitch a tent.” He muttered, trying to annoy me. Since we first met when I was 15, it became the nickname he gave me. Just because I opened the door to let him and his mom in for dinner, I was holding a Kindle to my upper body. Honestly, it was pretty embarrassing. “Shut up.” I pitched up on one side of the tent, wracking my brain to remember how to do this. When I finally got it secure and hooked it to the stake, I raised the mallet as I tried to steady my aim. “Wait-” I heard the protest too late as the mallet crashed full-force onto my thumb. I dropped it like fire, hissing in pain. “What did you do, bookworm?” Austin frowned, pulling away from his almost-finished part to go after me right away. He knelt beside me and held out his hand, “Here, let me see.” Worry etched across his face. “I’m fine,” I tried to hide my thumb, concealing my pain. “It’s just a foolish thumb.” But Austin could see straight through me. He stepped forward as he stubbornly grabbed my hand. “Let me see,” “It’s not even that bad,” I argued. He looked over my split thumb, and pursed his mouth at me. “Quit acting like a child and let me see.” I wanted to refuse, but I knew he wouldn’t give up. When he grabbed my hand, I held my breath and turned away. I didn’t want to look at it; it felt like half of it was missing, and if I was about to bleed out, I didn’t want to know. Austin carefully examined my split thumb. His hands were rough but the way he touched me was surprisingly gentle. Beads of sweat rolled from his forehead down his cheek. I followed them with with my eyes and realized how hot my cheeks were and how close we were standing. “The wound is not serious，”I glanced at the wound—it was just a small cut. But still, it hurt. After all, the thumb is close to the heart. I slowly relaxed, and he smiled, continuing, "but we’d better take care of it before it gets infected.” “Oh come on, you’re overreacting. I can handle it myself.” “Nonsense.” Austin took a few quick steps, pulled a first aid kit from his bag, and walked over to disinfect the wound with booze. As he cleaned it, a soft gasp escaped my throat. His blue eyes flicked up to meet mine, sparkling, and when our eyes met, his gaze quickly and unnaturally darted away. I flushed bright red in embarrassment. I didn’t know if it was from being a clumsy idiot or whether it was being caught swooning over my stepbrother like that. If he discovered my little secret, I’d rather live alone in the Arctic. Soon, Austin released my thumb and then wrapped it in a band-aid. “There, not so hard, was it?” He teased me with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. For some reason, his voice was a little hoarse. “Are you done yet, kiddos?” Dad called out to us from the other side of the campsite. “We’re done. Beth's thumb is a little injured, but it’s nothing serious. We’ve taken care of it in time.” Austin got to his feet and yelled back. He reached out a hand to me. I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. “Thanks,” I said awkwardly, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. I was afraid he might see something in my eyes. “No problem,” He muttered, voice deeper than normal. "Please be careful next time. "I will." But I can't guarantee that next time, if this happens again, I won't hurt myself. I stepped forward a little, and I thought him to let go right away but he didn’t. Instead, his hand tightened around my long fingers and it felt like a caress down my back. I bit my mouth and my heart thudded in my body rapidly. “Who’s going to gather firewood with me?” Grace’s voice called out sharply. I was startled and quickly jumped away from Austin, like a child who had done something wrong. “Me! I can help you,” I fled to her side but a hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back before I could get far. I gulped, not daring a glance behind me as Grace’s eyes glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll go with Elizabeth instead, Mom. You can stay here to help with Travis,” When he stepped closer, his body heat migrated against my sweat-soaked back. Grace refused to do so, and they started arguing. But soon, the conflict was settled when my dad pulled her aside and asked her to help him prepare the fishing gear so they could have grilled fish later. A few minutes later, Grace sighed and gave in. She waved her hand, signaling us to go and come back early. I gulped, walked off into the woods with Austin alone. The air around me was incredibly fresh. I took a deep breath, the scent of damp leaves and earth filling my nostrils. A mosquito buzzed in my ear, and I swatted at myself hard. I didn’t even harm it, as it flew right back and started buzzing in my other ear. Little pest. Austin walked ahead of me, brushing away the spruce branches hanging in our path to clear the way. I followed him, knelt down to pick up any loose twigs that could make good firewood, and neatly stacking them in my arms. In the quiet atmosphere, there were only the rustling of leaves and the sound of footsteps. Occasionally, I could hear a bird call. Whenever I felt tired, we would stop to catch our breath, then continue collecting. "I think we've gathered enough wood. Let's go back." I suggested. "Okay. But before you fall, it's better if I help you carry some of the weight." Without waiting for me to refuse, his arm slid across a pile of sticks in my arms. His shoulder brushed against mine, his fingers inadvertently swept across my body, and almost instantly, my underwear was ruined. I couldn’t help but blush, feeling all kinds of excited and embarrassed. Austin didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He simply lifted his leg and kicked away the small stone in front of me, his movement smooth and effortless. I tried to regain my composure, attempting to ignore the tremors in my stomach. We walked together through the dense forest. As we neared the campsite, I noticed Austin was focused, eyes scanning the area ahead and his body tense like he was preparing for a fight. "Is something wrong?" I asked cautiously, following his gaze. Austin's voice was tense. "I don't know, maybe. It just feels off." He turned toward me, his expression somewhat worried. "You should stay close to me." I scoffed. "You're just messing around again, aren't you? There's nothing here except bugs." He adjusted the wood on his shoulder, his biceps flexing, and I couldn’t help but glance at it. "Bookworm, you should be more careful out here. Something might just eat you," he teased, his smile slow and almost too perfect, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Austin I deserve to burn for having these sinful thoughts about my innocent stepsister. I tried to control myself and kept pushing her away, but it was hard. Being with her would have broken our family, but since his father and my mom dated and decided to get married, I've included her in my sphere. I’d been a lot of attention to Elizabeth. Initially, it was just a protective instinct, just like what a brother would feel. Care for her, protect her. My feelings for her at that time were very pure. Until she turns 18, she’d stopped being that mousy little bookworm. When I came home from college, I had to hide my inconveniences all the time. I should be ashamed, but she's not really my sister. It's too late when I realized exactly what this feeling for her was. Those long legs always haunt me in my dreams, wrapping around my head and waist, stretching them. Sometimes, she would ride on me and read those dirty books, which I knew she read secretly. My little bookworm has her secrets, just like I have mine. I could imagine any expression on her face when she stared at me, including those beautiful busts pressed against me and the gasps she made as I pushed into her. But it's not just about sax. I love her. It's been that way for years. I didn’t dare to imagine what Travis would think or do if he knew my feelings for his daughter went beyond the boundaries of siblings. He’d tear me to pieces over his beloved little princess, whether I was his stepson or not. And my mom. I have no doubt she’d already noticed, otherwise, she wouldn't have stared wide-eyed at our interaction and quickly thought of a way to try to separate us. Elizabeth was also influenced by me, which made me feel even more guilty. Her reaction every time I approached her was telling enough, she couldn't hide the way her pupils dilated when she saw me or her shortness of breath when I touched her. I've been protecting her, even though she doesn't know I'm doing it. But I don't think I can wait much longer. I'm tired of waiting. Of course, I also protected her from others. In fact, over the years, I’ve secretly threatened the guys who showed any interest in her, even if it was just a slight affection. In the end, the news spread, and they left her. I found her talking about it with her friends. They all wondered why she was never invited out. I knew. I would take this secret to the grave. We walked back to the campsite in silence, setting down the wood. Just then, Elizabeth looked around, puzzled, and asked, "Where are they?" “Probably sneaked off for a quickie in the woods."I placed the wood I was carrying next to the fire pit and stretched my stiff shoulders and arms. "Ugh, you're so gross," she said, stacking her wood next to mine. As I swatted away the little flies buzzing around, I glanced at Elizabeth. "Maybe they went fishing. Let's go find them," she pouted. “No, let them enjoy some alone time,” I smirked, “Trust me, neither of us needs that picture seared into our brains.” “Stop it.” A laugh rumbled out of my body as I saw the look of disdain she sent my way. I knew which buttons to push to annoy her, to get my favorite reactions from her. It's messed up, but I get off on the way her eyes glitter right before she explodes. I'm pretty sure they'll do the same when she comes. She doesn't know the dirty thoughts running through my mind. No one knows, except for me. Maybe my mom, if she found out, she would be heartbroken. So I couldn’t risk sleeping with Elizabeth. It would tear my whole family apart. I’d be betraying Travis’ trust, ruining my mother’s second chance at love and most of all, I’d be risking losing Elizabeth. One night of pleasure wasn’t worth it, especially since I knew I would only want more. I knew myself too well, one taste would never be enough for me. I got down beside the fire pit, building it up as I tended it to. I could feel her eyes on me as I stoked the fire into a small burn, feeding it the branches we collected until it was a good size. If I happen to bend my arm a little more, then it will happen. I have to make use of what I have. I knew how to seduce women. They loved my good looks, flocked around to me and I’d learned to use that to my advantage but I was never interested in them. The only woman I wanted was the one I absolutely couldn’t have. "Can you teach me how to make a fire?" 'she asked after a moment's silence, pointing to the fire pit. I raised my eyebrows and joked, "What, finally decided to give up all that kindle theory?" She rolled her eyes a little, "I just thought, maybe it could come in handy. What if one day I'm alone in the woods?" Like I'm always gonna let this happen. "Ok, sit next to me." I tapped the big rock next to me and motioned for her to come closer. She obeyed, eyes wide and curious. I smiled and began to show her what the best tinder was. Although I had absolutely no need to touch her, when the opportunity presented itself, I took it. As she picked up a branch, I put a hand on her shoulder and nudged her arm with my arm. She froze. I could feel the tiny goosebumps that popped up on her smooth skin. Her legs began to rub gently, and I wondered if she had been wet for me. God, my pants feel tight right now. "You should start with small bits, like these twigs. Dried bark works too," I explain, placing the twigs in the center of the fire pit. "Then, you need to add some larger branches like these." I arrange the branches in a teepee shape around the twigs. "Once the small ones catch fire, layer in the bigger logs." I place the logs carefully around the structure, making sure air can still circulate. "Don't let the big pieces choke out the smaller ones." Beth observed carefully, mentally repeating every detail. My mouth were close to her ear, and her cheek reddened under my instructions. She secretly brushed my arm with her finger, thinking I wouldn’t notice, but it only made me want her more. My body aches from her touch. How would she react if I took her mouth right here and now? No, stop thinking, this won’t end well. But I didn’t mind enjoying the time she was in my arms. We started the fire, and then I began teaching her how to manage it properly. “Don’t throw all the wood into the fire at once, add it slowly. If you don’t, it could be dangerous.” She nodded seriously, looking very earnest, which made me want to protect her even more. It also made me want to bend her over the biggest log and fu ck her hardly. My body aches from her touch, and my heart longs for her to be by my side. But I had it all under control before. But this time, it was very primal, and it was as if at some point I started to get impatient. It scared me. Before I can do anything I regret, a scream comes from the lakeside. It's my mom. Beth and I quickly exchange a look, then she stood up from the firepit and ran toward the lake. Even though she was ahead of me, I easily caught up with her. If I weren't so worried about my mom, I wouldn't have done this, but this time, I surpassed her and ran ahead. When we reached the small path leading to the edge of Lake Hoo, I saw Travis helping my mom walk toward us, limping. Not long after, Beth caught up with me. "What happened?" I ask. "Grace twisted her ankle. She slipped on a stone or something when she waded through the water. I’m not sure if it’s broken or just sprained. Sorry, Austin, I didn’t take care of her properly." Travis looks frustrated, but I know that the reason he didn’t catch my mom in time is because he has spent too many years behind a desk. He has been working hard for our family. I glanced at her feet to check. She was holding all her weight on her right foot, her left looking red and swollen. "I’ll help you." I walk over, trying to take over from Travis. "I’m fine." She refuses my help. Her face is creased in pain, and her eyes are slightly red. "But you look like you’re hurt." I reach out to help her, but she waves me off, trying to maintain her dignity. "I’m just a little clumsy, don’t worry, I’ll make it over." She breathes heavily, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. Despite her injury, she still tries to force a weak smile. But she’s a terrible actress. Beth stands by, biting her mouth, looking very worried. "Maybe we need to get an X-ray." Mom shakes her head. "It’s just a twisted ankle. We’ll rest here for a bit, then continue to the camp." I shake my head, certain that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to recover. However, when Mom put her foot down, she frowned, gasped in pain, and let out a pained whimper. She reached out, placing her hand over Travis’s palm for support, but it was no use. Travis watched her with concern, clenching his teeth to keep from yelping. "Alright, you’re fine, obviously." I said, bending down and lifting her into my arms. "Put your arm around my neck and hold on." "No, Austin, put me down. I’m too heavy for you to carry." "Stop talking nonsense. You’re not heavy. Now, hold on tight—we’ll be back at the campsite soon." I began carrying her back, hiking carefully to avoid jostling her injured ankle. Travis and Beth followed closely behind me. I didn’t dare run, afraid of making things worse for her. When we arrived at the campsite, I gently set Mom down while Travis crouched beside her, removing her shoe. Her ankle was already looking swollen. "This looks bad," Beth murmured, placing her hands on my shoulders, biting her mouth anxiously. "We have to stop camping and take her to a doctor," Travis said, grabbing his backpack, frustration evident in his tone. I nodded. "Agreed. But it’s getting dark. There’s no way we can pack everything up in time unless you want to leave all our stuff here for thieves or wild animals. Here’s the plan—I’ll carry Mom to the car, and you drive her to the hospital in town. Tomorrow, you can come back to pick us up." Travis thought for a moment before setting down the tent pole he had just picked up. "Alright, that makes sense. You stay here and watch our stuff. Beth, you’ll come with us," he said, turning to her. Beth frowned, her mouth instinctively pouting. "Dad, we can’t leave Austin alone. That doesn’t sound safe. Maybe I can stay here with him?" she pleaded. "Austin has plenty of outdoor experience. He can handle it." "I’m staying, Dad," she insisted. "You guys better hurry. It’s getting dark." "Alright," Mom sighed, finally giving in. "I really hate this. You two be careful, okay?" "Of course," I nodded. "I’ll keep Beth safe. Now, let’s get you to the car." Elizabeth “Any news?” I glanced at Austin worriedly as I curled my arms around my waist. It had been three hours since my dad and Grace had left for town, but there was still no word from them. Austin was watching the crackling flames in the campfire as night fell. Two tender fish were roasting on top of the fire. Seeing my movements, Austin added two more logs to the fire and handed me a roasted fish. "They're fine, Bookworm, don't worry." I nodded and took the fish. After finishing it, I still felt cold. I went back to the tent and grabbed a hoodie. It was one of Austin's favorites, and I had secretly brought it along for this camping trip. I liked it; it made me feel closer to Austin. Besides, the sleeves were big enough to completely wrap around my arms and fists with some extra room. When he saw me wearing it, he smiled but didn’t say anything. I sat back down by the fire, warming myself. "When do you think they'll be back?" "I don't know. Maybe we can take a nap, and when they come back, they'll call us." He yawned, stretched, and stood up. "Honestly, it's hard to sleep under these circumstances. Also, I should've brought an air mattress." "What? Afraid the rough ground will scratch your delicate skin?" He grinned. "Exactly." If we had a blanket, I thought, we’d be much more comfortable. "Luckily, it’s not raining, or that would be really bad." I smiled at him. Just then, cold and wet droplets landed straight on my cheek and then the tip of my nose. I glanced at him wide-eyed, the raindrops sliding down my face. “Or yes,” he said, just as the sky opened up and a cascade of rain poured onto us.The heavy rain drenched our campfire, extinguishing it in seconds. I jumped, quickly grabbed everything I could. Austin’s arm slipped from my grasp, and before I could react, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his tent. “Wait, my tent is over there.” I could barely see it, but a flash of lightning illuminated the area for a brief moment. “Forget it, mine is closer.” He didn’t let go of me. “Thanks, but I really should—” “Stop arguing.” Austin opened up his tent in a hurry, and then pushed me inside. I wiped my face with my hand as Austin climbed in after me, getting down to pull the tent closed. My clothes clung to my skin tightly, as Austin lit up a electric torch. It barely provided any light but it was enough to highlight his wet form. Just like me. Austin pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing his muscled body to me, and then he stripped off his shoes and pants next. "What are you doing?" I took two steps back, trying not to let my eyes linger on him, avoiding the sight of his toned muscles. "It's cold, and we're both soaked."Take your clothes off and get into the sleeping bag,” He said, and my heart nearly stopped to hear those words from him. “Wait, what?” Was I dreaming? Because I had only ever encountered a scene like this in my dreams. Of course, he hadn’t just asked me to take off my clothes—we had done far more than that. However, the alarm clock had always ruined everything in the end. He didn’t even seem the least bit bothered as he grabbed one of his clean shirts and used it to dry out his hair. He sent me a patient look. “You’ll get hypothermia if you stay in those wet clothes. We need to get into the sleeping bag together and use body heat to stay warm.” “Oh,” I muttered, then turning red as I repeated it, “Okay.” No matter how embarrassed I was, I knew there wasn’t a choice in this matter. He was right. I took off my clothes. First the hoodie I loved so much and then my shirt, jeans and socks followed until I was left only in my lingeries. This looked a lot like the scene from my dreams, but it wasn’t. I couldn't strip down completely with my stepbrother while our parents aren't there. Then, I slipped into the sleeping bag first. It was a large sleeping bag, made for a grown adult to feel comfortable, but two inside? It made me tense. I tried to bury myself in the fabric, especially as I felt his hot skin slide in behind me. I shivered, my heartbeat quickens, every inch of us almost stuck together in such a small space. He's right. My body temperature is rising fast—I feel like a boiled shrimp. After finishing all that, Austin turned off the electric torch. At that moment, his body was only a few inches away from mine. And the distance was still shrinking. It was silent aside from the pounding of the rain on the tent above and his breath as his body brushed against my back with every movement, his legs tangled together with mine. My senses are on edge, my skin tingling. This is more than I ever expected. “Austin?” I asked, trying to distract myself. His hot breath brushed against the back of my neck. I felt a little fear. “Yeah?” His voice was rough, tight like he was just as uncomfortable as I was. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” I whispered. "Emm, at least you don't feel cold anymore, right?" No, but my skin felt like it’s on fire. I gripped tightly to the edges of the sleeping bag, resisting the urge to slide my hand down. We lay together, close to each other. Outside, the rain grew heavier, but inside the tent, it was eerily silent. The stillness made me feel both awkward and restless. I cleared my throat, trying to break the tension. "So, how’s school going?" “College?” Austin asked, quietly. “Yes, your graduation is coming up, right?” I felt the brush of his fingers across my shoulders. “What do you plan on doing?” “I plan on moving back home in the spring, actually,” His hand slid down to my waist, resting there idly as he leaned in just a bit closer. I held my breath, pretending not to feel the hardness clinging to the curve of my buns. The ends of his wet hair slide across my neck as his mouth pressed against the tip of my ear, and said, “I missed you.” When it twitched, I sobbed back. I may not be experienced, but I've read enough stories. At this point, Austin was hard, and there wasn't a crack between us when he pressed me so tight. "Yes, you haven't had a good time with Dad and Grace for a long time." He nodded. "I miss them too." The stubble on his chin fluttered around my neck and made me shudder. If he had moved his arm up a bit, he would have seen that my tips were as hard as rocks. He looked down at me. "What about yours?" "My what?" I looked up at him, and being so close to him made me a little foolish. The words appeared and disappeared as quickly as lightning in the sky. "Ha, school, bookworm, isn't that what you do best?" He asked casually as his fingers lazily wandered around my navel, and drew little circles along my skin. Further down, it's my underwear. Another inch and I'll explode. Every part of me was clamoring for him to break through that line and give in to the impulses we were creating. It's just unbearable. "Well, I'll probably go to community college, which doesn't look much different than high school. But I'm thinking of moving out." "Living with your boyfriend?" His voice almost melted me. I swallowed, not sure if I wanted to tell the truth. "A guy named James has been asking me out, but I haven't decided yet." "You went out with him?" "No, I didn't." I sighed. I don't understand why we have to talk about other people when we're so close now. “What about you?” I asked, tilting my head to try and catch his glance. It's always easier to reveal your deepest secrets in the dark. "Oh, there was only one girl I liked all along, bookworm." "He whispered, his breath brushing my ears. He's lying here, right next to me, telling me he likes other girls. "Who? " God, I'm so jealous. Do I know her? As I tried to push him away from me, my heart seemed to burst out of my body. I'm so angry right now. "Yes, you know her." He let go a laugh and it made our bodies press more tightly together. I didn’t have time to miss his touch before his whole palm laid out over my lower belly. But then reason got the better of me. I pressed his hand down and stopped his next move. “Well, who's she?” “You haven’t figured it out yet?” His tone is playful, just like his fingers. He hold me into his embrace until I felt every inch of his body pressed against my back. “It’s you, bookworm.” My heart rapidly beat. A shiver ran down my spine as his whispered words hit me. It was like trying to understand gibberish because I couldn’t possibly have heard him right. “Me?” I repeated incredulously. “It’s always been you.” "He whispered, his mouth caressing my earlobe. I felt like I was melting and my mind was blank. He continued, "I've wanted you for a long time. You drive me crazy." "You can't mean that." I opened my mouth wide and closed it slowly. His confession left me speechless. I must have been dreaming. It has to be. If so, I’m at least going to see how it plays out before my alarm rings. I bit my mouth, gathered my courage, and guided his hand deep into my underwear.