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InactiveJun 27, 26 · 1d
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InactiveJun 27, 26 · 1d
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Chapter 1 Isabella’s POV The day I buried my father, my husband didn’t show up for the funeral. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Bianca — my stepsister, who also hadn’t come. I opened it. The screen showed a photo of Marcus, my husband, kissing her stomach tenderly. It was tagged: Guess who’s finally going to be a father. My hands shook. No. It couldn’t be real. My vision blurred with tears as I stared hard at the picture, praying with everything in me that it was fake, that it was some sort of sick joke. But it wasn't. The next picture she sent was enough to shatter my world. It was a picture of Bianca taking a mirror selfie in the master's bedroom I shared with Marcus. She was wearing my robe, while Marcus was asleep in the background on the master's bed. I couldn’t breathe. So it was true. My husband had impregnated my stepsister. Tears ran down my face as I sobbed. My chest hurt from the pain of the betrayal. My husband. My stepsister. My knees gave out, and I collapsed in front of my father’s grave. The dirt was still fresh. My tears soaked into it as I broke down completely. It felt like my heart was being torn from my chest as I sobbed hard. I should have known, I had seen how close they had been getting, the secret glances and conversations, but I had refused to believe that I could ever be betrayed by the two people I trusted the most. I felt so betrayed and humiliated. Then my phone buzzed again. It was Marcus this time -I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. A very important issue came up. We need to talk.- I stared at the screen, the tears flowing freely now. I already knew what he wanted. That night, Marcus arrived with Bianca and her bags. “Bianca needs a place to stay,” he said softly, as if gentleness could erase what he had done. “With her pregnancy, it’s not safe for her to be alone.” Bianca smiled a saccharine, mocking smile. “I’m sorry, Isabella. I begged Marcus to wait… but the baby’s health comes first. I hope you understand, I’m sorry for intruding on the day of our father’s funeral” I didn't say anything, I just stared blankly at the floor as I listened to the both of them. Marcus pressed on, “Bianca is your sister, Isabella, your own flesh and blood. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?” I ignored him, fighting back my tears. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him hurt the way I was hurting. But I just stared at the floor, numb and broken. He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened between us. But I love you. Only you.” His words cut deeper than any knife. “What happened with Bianca was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” I stared. “She’s pregnant. And you say this is a mistake?” He nodded. “Yes. And the best part is that we made an agreement. When she gives birth, the baby will be yours. Since you can’t have children, Bella.” Those words stabbed me: You can’t have children. “You always wanted a baby,” he said, trying to soften it. “This is the universe fixing things for us.” I glared at him with disbelief as fury burned with me. “Are you serious? You slept with my step sister and you expect me to just accept this?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t be dramatic. I know it was wrong. But now, we can finally have a child. I can be a father.” Bianca began to fake sob, “Oh no, Marcus. Look at what I’ve done. I’m causing trouble between you two.” “Oh, stop your act!” I snapped. She flinched, sobbing harder. “I should go.” Marcus turned to me, his eyes flashed with anger. “Look at what you’re causing. I don’t want Bianca stressed during her pregnancy. Why do you have to be so bitter? No wonder you’re barren!” His cruel words hit me hard. I could barely breathe. He caught the hurt on my face and tried to soften it, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want the baby to be harmed.” I rose slowly, my voice shook, but it was firm. “Marcus, I want a divorce.” His face turned pale. “What?” Bianca smirked behind him, but I didn’t care. “I said, I want a divorce.” “Isabella, no. We’re family,” Bianca said, voice dripping with fake sympathy. Marcus stared at me, disbelief clear. “You don’t mean it.” “I do.” He scoffed. “Because of this? Because I made a mistake?” “A mistake?” I laughed bitterly. “You call cheating on me with my step sister a mistake?” He stepped closer, cold now. “You always overreact. That’s why I stopped talking to you. Everything turns into drama.” I clenched my fists, rage burning. “You got her pregnant, moved her into our house on the day my father died, and I’m overreacting?” Marcus scoffed at me. “You’re lucky anyone would want you, considering you’re barren.” Bianca sobbed fake tears. “Please, Marcus. Don’t fight because of me.” “Then leave,” I snapped at her. Marcus growled, pointing at me. “Watch your mouth. She’s pregnant. You have no right to stress her.” “She has no right to be here,” I said coldly. His eyes narrowed, venom sharp. “I see why you can’t have a child. Your heart’s dark and evil.” My heart shattered, but I refused to break. “I’m done with you, Marcus. Goodbye.” “Oh, please,” he sneered. “You think you can walk away? You have nothing. No money, no children, no one.” His words stabbed, but I kept moving toward the stairs. “Where do you think you’re going?” he barked. “To pack.” “You’re not leaving. You’re still my wife.” “Not for long. I’ll send divorce papers.” He stepped forward, voice calm but deadly. “I am Marcus Pierce. The day you signed those papers, you belonged to me. If you walk out, I’ll find you. I’ll drag you back. I’ll burn your precious orphanage to the ground.” My lips trembled. The orphanage was the last tie to my father. It was everything I had left. “Why are you doing this?” I whispered through tears. “You brought this on yourself,” Marcus said, jaw clenched. I broke down again. “You won’t even let me grieve for my father. You humiliate me, bring her here, and now you won’t let me go? What more do you want?” His eyes softened, voice almost gentle. “Isabella, Bianca’s baby will be ours. Why can’t you be happy?” Something inside me shifted. I wiped my tears. Bianca’s eyes gleamed with triumph. That was the nail that sealed the coffin shut. Marcus wanted to ruin me, but I would ruin him first. “I overreacted,” I said quietly. “I’ll stay… for now. Give me time.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. That night, I cried my heart out. I lay curled on the cold floor of the guest room sobbing quietly, while Marcus tended to my stepsister in the master bedroom. My chest ached. The tears kept falling. I grieved for my father, I grieved for my ruined marriage, and I grieved for myself. And when there were no more tears left to cry, I picked up the phone, and I called the one person who hated Marcus more than I did. The one person that Marcus feared the most. His older brother, Alexander Pierce. Chapter 2 Isabella’s POV Alexander picked almost immediately. “Bella,” he drawled coldly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” A chill ran down my spine at the intensity in that voice, and I tightened my grip on the phone slightly. “I want to ruin Marcus, and I need your help.” There was a pause, then he released a low, dark chuckle. “Finally. I thought you would never ask.” Alexander didn’t waste time. “Tell me everything.” I spilled the truth, from Marcus’s betrayal, to Bianca moving in, to his cruel threats. He listened silently, and when I was done, he asked. “When do you want him to fall?” he asked. “Yesterday.” I replied seriously. He laughed. “Perfect. Marcus won’t know what hit him.” Hope rose up within me for the first time since the funeral. “We’ll keep in touch, and I’ll let you know when things are in order,” Alexander promised, then he paused. “But I have one condition.” He said. My heart pounded in my chest. I was already dreading whatever it was. “What is it?” I asked. “Marry me,” he replied My heart skipped a beat. ~ I didn’t sleep that night. Alexander’s proposal echoed in my head over and over. He had asked me to think about it, and get back with a response. He swore that immediately I gave him a response, he would come for me. I wasn’t ready to answer him, because I was so confused. Alexander was offering protection from Marcus, and lots of power, but what was the cost? And then, this morning, suddenly everything changed. My hands shook as I stared at the pregnancy report before me. It was positive. I was pregnant. I laughed bitterly as tears welled up in my eyes. I had given up hope a long time ago, and I had accepted the insults thrown to me—that I was barren, useless, unworthy. And now, I was pregnant. And it was too late because Marcus had already cheated on me and had shown me who he really was. My heart pounded as I clutched the report tighter. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Alexander: “Everything is set. You have three days to decide.” My heart raced as I stared at the message. I couldn't bring a child into a callous world of lies, betrayal and bitterness. It would be cruel of me. Tears blurred my vision as I shakily picked up my phone. My fingers trembled as I dialed the number of the hospital. The line clicked, and a calm voice answered, “Good afternoon, Preston Hospital. How may I assist you?” “I... I need to schedule an abortion,” I said, my voice shook as I spoke. There was a pause, then the voice replied calmly, “Can you make it to the clinic tomorrow?” My heart clenched. The sooner the better. “Yes, I can.” I whispered, my voice broke as the tears ran down my face. As I hung up, a cold numbness settled within me. I was going to get rid of a part of myself, a part that I had prayed and begged for. My mind flashed back to the accident that had rendered me barren six years ago. Marcus had been upset about a business deal that didn't go well. He was drunk, and he insisted on driving, no matter how much I begged him. I remembered the way the second car had come out of nowhere. The screeching tires. The loud crash, lots of blood, and then darkness. I woke up two days later in a hospital bed in severe pain to receive the news that the damage from the accident was too much, so I wouldn't be able to conceive again. I cried for days until my throat and eyes hurt. Through it all, Marcus had been there, stroking my hair, kissing my forehead, whispering, “I’m so sorry, baby. I swear, I’ll make this right. I’ll never leave you.” He had held me like I was a fragile gem, like I was the most precious thing in his world. And I had believed him, I had forgiven him, because love made me stupid. A bitter smile crossed my lips. Now, I was paying the price. “Well, well. Look who it is!” an annoyingly familiar voice drawled. I clenched my jaw. “I’m not in the mood, Bianca.” Bianca walked into the living room like she owned the place. She looked at me, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh. You look like hell,” she said with a mocking smirk as she sat on the chair opposite me. “Rough day?” I said nothing, but my fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly. “You look like someone going through a lot of shit right now.” She continued, her eyes shone with mockery. I forced myself to stay calm, breathing deeply. “Is there a reason you’re here, Bianca?” She smirked, “What? Can't I cheer my sister up?” My heart pounded in my chest, and I glared at her. “After sleeping with your sister’s husband, no, you cannot.” “Oh, please,” Bianca giggled, waving her hand. “You were always too boring for Marcus. He needed someone who could keep up. You should see the kind of things I did to him in the room.” I gritted my teeth as rage burned within me, but I didn't let it show. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of giving her a reaction. Her smirk faltered slightly when she didn't get a reaction from me. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway let me know that Marcus was home. I didn't want to talk or see him, so I stood up to leave. “No, no, where are you going? Won't you welcome your husband, sister?” Bianca taunted. I ignored her, making my way to the guest room to lock myself there. My hands trembled, my chest ached, and my eyes burned from holding in the tears. I laid down releasing a shaky breath as I closed my eyes. I just needed to bear all these for three days more, and I would be free. Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud crash. My eyes flew open, and I jumped to my feet in shock. Marcus stormed into the room with his eyes blazing in fury. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “What the hell are you—?” Before I could say a word, he slapped me hard across the face. Chapter 3 Isabella's POV The force of his slap threw me to the floor, and I released a cry of pain and shock as my vision turned black for a moment. Pain exploded through my face as I hit the floor. I lay there frozen, too shocked to even move. What just happened? Why? My mind scrambled for answers, but nothing made sense. Why had Marcus hit me? He had never done that before. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dizziness. My hands trembled as I pushed myself up from the floor. I noticed Bianca standing behind the furious Marcus, with her arms folded across her chest, and tears running down her face. “What the hell is going on?” I croaked, my voice shook as tears welled up in my eyes. Marcus towered over me, breathing heavily in anger. “You hit her, Isabella? You hit the woman carrying my child? Is that how bitter you have become?” “What?” I whispered, still struggling to process his words. “I—what are you talking about?” “She came to talk to you, and you attacked her? Your infertility is causing you to become deranged!” he yelled, his eyes blazed with fury. Bianca sobbed as she stepped forward. “I... I just wanted to check on her. I brought her some tea,” she said softly. “She started screaming. I tried to calm her down, but she... she started hitting me. She said I was ruining her life, that I deserved to die.” Her voice broke, then she continued while I gaped at her. “I didn’t want to tell you, Marcus, but she really scared me. I thought she would kill me.” My heart nearly stopped. She was lying boldly and shamelessly. I shook my head slowly, still on the floor. “You lying snake,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I never touched you.” Bianca’s lips shook, and she looked away, looking like the perfect victim. Marcus didn’t even hesitate. “Get out,” he growled at me. “Get out of my sight before I do something worse to you.” I stared up at him with tears burning in my eyes, not just from pain, but from disbelief that he had really done this because of her. “You believe her?” I whispered. “Do you think I would ever do such a thing?” His eyes wavered for a moment, before they hardened. “You’re unstable, Isabella. I don’t even know who you are anymore. Jealousy is turning you into something else.” A bitter laugh escaped my mouth. “I have nothing to be jealous of.” I spat. I could taste blood on my lips. The force of his slap had split my lip. I wiped it with the back of my hand, ignoring the sting. For a brief second, Marcus’s gaze dropped to my bleeding lip, and he clenched his jaw. His expression softened, and he stepped forward. “Isa—” But before he could finish, Bianca whimpered from behind him. “My head hurts, Marcus,” she said, her voice soft and fragile. “She hit me so hard. I just… I didn’t expect her to snap like that.” Marcus turned to her instantly, forgetting all about me, like I never existed. He wrapped a protective arm around Bianca, who leaned into him like she was a fragile glass doll. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them drop. I was done shedding tears because of them. Bianca glanced back at me with a mocking smirk on her lips, and triumph gleaming in her eyes, but I brushed it off. Three more days. Just three more days, and I would be gone. ~ The next morning, I left the house early to go to the clinic for the abortion. My chest tightened, and my heart ached as I waited to be attended to. My hands shook as I slowly placed a hand on my stomach. It was flat. There were no changes, but something precious was within. Something I had once thought I could never have. A baby. Tears welled in my eyes again, but I blinked them away. I had made a logical decision. It was a necessary one. A nurse called my name, and I rose to my feet slowly as my heart pounded in my chest. I was led into a private room where the doctor turned to face me. The moment he saw me, his brows lifted in surprise. “Mrs. Pierce?” he said in obvious surprise. He had been the doctor who had declared me barren after the accident six years ago. I gave him a weak smile. He glanced down at the file in his hand, then back up at me. “Are you… sure about this?” I didn’t respond. My throat had closed up. He sighed softly and walked over, his voice gentle. “Mrs. Pierce, I need you to understand how rare, and miraculous this pregnancy is.” he paused. “If you go through with this, you will never get another chance. Ever.” Chapter 4 Isabella’s POV His words struck something deep in me, and my heart pounded faster in my chest. I placed my hand on my stomach again. I thought about the long, lonely nights that I had cried, praying for a miracle. I remembered the ache every time someone announced a pregnancy. And now, that my prayers were finally answered, I was about to throw it away because of Marcus, and his betrayal. This time, I couldn’t control myself, I burst into tears, closing my eyes. The thought of getting rid of my little miracle caused my heart to ache. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head frantically. “I… I can’t do this.” The doctor blinked. “You mean—?” “I’m keeping the baby.” My voice broke, but it sounded firm. “I don’t care if I have to raise this child alone. This child is mine. They’re a blessing, not a mistake.” The doctor gave me a relieved smile, nodding in encouragement. “I think that’s the right decision.” As I stepped out of the hospital, the weight in my chest was lifted, and I was filled with hope, because in three days, I would be starting a new life, with my child. “Isabella!” A familiar voice yelled from behind me. It was Marcus. I tensed, reluctantly turning to face him. Before I could say anything, he gripped my arm tightly with a frantic look in his eyes. “Thank goodness I saw you here!” He exclaimed, tightening his grip on my arm. I furrowed my eyebrows in surprise and confusion. “What… what’s going on?” I asked. “It’s Bianca,” he said, “She’s in the hospital. She had a high fever all night from the crying and from the beating you gave her,” he added sharply, glaring at me. “You did this, Isabella.” I glared back at him. “I told you that I didn’t touch her, Marcus!” But he wasn’t listening. “She passed out this morning, Isabella,” he continued, ignoring my words. “Her fever got worse. She’s weak. Now, the doctors say she needs a blood transfusion.” My heart sank. “What does that have to do with me?” Marcus stared at me, clenching his jaw. “You’re a universal donor, Isabella. Bianca’s blood type is rare, and you’re the only match available right now.” My breath caught. “Wait,” I said slowly, blinking up at him. “You want me to donate my blood to her? After everything?” “I don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “This is about saving two lives. You can be bitter and selfish later. Right now, you’re going to do the right thing.” He started dragging me away. I dug my heels into the floor to resist as he dragged me forward. “You can’t do this! There are other people you can get blood from. You can get blood from a blood bank. Why me?” I protested. He stopped walking, and turned to me, his voice cold. “Because this is all your fault.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I didn’t touch her!” I exclaimed, willing him to believe me. “She lied to you!” He didn’t listen to me. He kept dragging me. Something in me broke as I realized that he would never believe me over Bianca. I was too tired to argue, and too exhausted to keep screaming into deaf ears. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered as a last resort. I never wanted to tell him, but I had no choice. Marco turned slowly with his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “What did you say?” “I’m pregnant,” I repeated, louder this time with my voice shaking. “The doctor said that it was a miracle that I had gotten pregnant. This pregnancy is a high risk pregnancy. If you do this, you’ll kill it, Marco. You’ll kill our child.” There was a long, heavy pause. Then Marco laughed. It was a cruel and mocking laugh that hurt my ears. “Really? Really, Isabella?” he sneered. “You are that despicable? You would lie about something like this just to escape your responsibility?” My lips parted in shock, and my eyes widened in disbelief. “I know you’re desperate, but faking a pregnancy?” He shook his head like I disgusted him. “That’s a new low, even for you.” “But…but it’s the truth,” I hissed, my eyes watering with tears. He scoffed, glaring down at me. “The truth? You’re a lying bitch that can never tell the truth. You will give the blood, and that’s final.” He said with finality in his voice. Rage, betrayal and disbelief burned within me. I yanked my arm away from his. “I won’t do it,” I hissed, “I won’t risk my baby’s life for Bianca.” “You selfish bitch,” he spat. “You would let someone die!” “No,” I snapped. “But I won’t let my baby die either.” Marcus’ eyes blazed with rage. “If you don't do this, I will raze down that orphanage personally, and make you watch.” He gritted through clenched teeth. Chapter 5 Isabella's POV My blood ran cold. He was threatening the orphanage again. He knew how much it meant to me. My father had started that orphanage. It was all I had of him. The children in the orphanage were like family to me. “You wouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling. Marcus stepped closer, his face was twisted into a snarl. “Try me.” I stared up at him, breathing heavily as my heart shattered. How could someone I once loved, someone I once trusted, become my worst enemy? My hand moved over to my stomach again, and tears ran down my face silently. When Marcus dragged me again, I didn't resist. I quietly followed him, crying silently. We stepped into the VIP room Marcus had gotten for Bianca. She was lying on the bed, connected to monitors and IV fluids, looking weak and pale. Her eyes were red, and she kept whimpering like she was in pain. Marcus rushed to her side instantly. “Bianca, I’m here,” he said, grabbing her hand gently. “Don’t worry, I brought Isabella. You’ll be okay now.” Bianca barely moved. Her voice came out in a shaky whisper. “It hurts, Marcus... I feel so much pain...” I stood there, silent, watching as my husband whispered softly to Bianca. My stomach twisted as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face with so much gentleness. However, when Marcus turned to call a doctor, Bianca suddenly opened one eye and winked at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips. My body tensed. Did she seriously just do that? Was everything just a pretense? I was risking the life of my baby for a charade. I clenched my fists in rage, gritting my teeth. How dare she? I stepped forward, ready to speak, but Marcus turned around and grabbed my hand tightly. His fingers dug into my skin, and I winced. His eyes stared into mine with a fierce glare, and I instantly understood his message. He was warning me. A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered his threat concerning the orphanage. The door opened again, and a doctor walked in. Marcus turned to her like she was his last hope. “She’s getting worse,” he said quickly. “We need the transfusion now.” The doctor nodded calmly. “She’s stable for now. We can hold off on the transfusion for now, until—” Bianca whimpered. “No!” Marcus snapped. “The donor is right here,” He pointed to me like I was a stranger that he had nothing to do with. The doctor gave me a brief look, then nodded and instructed the nurses to start setting up. A cold sweat ran down my spine as I stared at the needle in the doctor’s hands. I had a phobia for needles, and Marcus knew that. Normally, he would hold my hand, and whisper soothing words to calm me. Marcus stared at me and for a second, he reached out like he remembered, but when Bianca whimpered, he dropped my hand quickly and rushed to her side, forgetting me completely. My heart clenched, and I swallowed hard. I turned my head away when the doctor approached me with the needle. My stomach turned with fear and pain. I squeezed my eyes shut. Please… please stop this… please, someone… I pleaded within me. Just as he was about to insert it, the door burst open, and another doctor rushed in. “Wait!” he called out, hurrying in with a file in his hands and panic in his voice. “Stop right now!” Everyone turned to him. “Mrs. Pierce is pregnant,” the doctor said breathlessly. The doctor holding the needle stepped back. Marcus spluttered in disbelief. “W-What? That's not possible. H-How?” The doctor hurried forward with the file in his hands. “She was scheduled for an abortion this morning, but she cancelled it. Here.” He said, handing the file to Marcus. I released a deep breath of relief. For the first time in days, I felt like I could finally breathe. The doctor had confirmed it, he had proved that I was telling the truth. But before the relief could settle, Marco spoke up with a cold and merciless voice. “Take the blood.” My eyes widened. “What?” Chapter 6 Isabella’s POV The doctors and nurses present were stunned. “Mr. Pierce… your wife cannot donate blood. Didn’t you hear what the doctor said?” One of the nurses spluttered in disbelief. “Mrs. Pierce is pregnant, and her pregnancy is a high-risk pregnancy. Any slight issues could cause her to lose the child.” Marcus’ eyes were blank and merciless as he stepped forward. “I heard,” he said coldly. “And I said take the blood.” The doctor glanced at him and me, looking helplessly. “Sir, we could lose both the mother and the baby. This is against medical protocol—” “I don’t care about your protocol,” Marcus cut in sharply. “I’m paying a lot of money, so do your job.” I could barely breathe. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the man in front of me. The man I married. The man I once loved, but he wasn’t the same person anymore. Marcus gritted his teeth, glaring at them. “I am Marcus Pierce. If you don’t do as I say, I will shut down this hospital, and make you all miserable!” He barked. Their eyes widened in horror at his words. He was threatening them, just like he was threatening me, all for Bianca. The nurse hesitated, then turned to me. “Mrs. Pierce… we need your consent.” I just sat there, gaping in shock as I stared at Marcus. “Marcus, you claimed that you have always wanted a child, and now that you have it, you want to throw it away because of Bianca’s fake fever?” I asked in disbelief. Marcus scowled. “What difference does it make? You were about to abort it anyways.” I gave him an incredulous look. “But you just heard that I cancelled it!” I retorted. Marcus sighed, shaking his head. “Look Isabella, Bianca’s pregnancy is far more stable than yours,” he said softly. “The doctors said your pregnancy is high-risk. There’s a huge chance you will lose it anyway. But Bianca… she has a chance.” My stomach dropped, and I blinked. “So you’re willing to kill my child… for hers?” “It’s not like that,” he said quickly, stepping forward. “This is a medical decision. Bianca’s vitals are crashing. She needs the transfusion. Your pregnancy is uncertain. You might not even make it to the second month.” I stared at him in shock and horror. No, this wasn’t about making a medical decision. Marcus wasn’t just saving a child, he was choosing a woman. And it wasn’t me. My hands trembled as I looked at him. If I had tears left, I would have started crying now. “You’ve already chosen her,” I whispered. “Haven’t you?” His eyes flickered with an unreadable expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but Bianca coughed dramatically from the bed, and that was all it took. Marcus turned his back on me again and rushed to her side. A chill ran down my spine as the truth dawned on me. There was no use screaming or fighting. I wanted to beg the nurses not to take my blood, but what was the point? Their hands were tied—he had threatened them. The nurse gently touched my arm with pity in her eyes. “Mrs. Pierce… do we have your consent?” My lips trembled, and for a second I couldn’t speak. I looked one last time at Marcus. He didn’t even look back. I swallowed hard. “Do what you have to,” I said quietly. I was resigned to my fate, whatever would happen, would happen. The doctor inserted the needle into my arm, and I didn’t even wince. The needle pierced my skin, and blood began to flow. I had no tears left to cry, so all I could do was stare at the floor blankly, trying to breathe, and stay calm. My chest tightened and a wave of dizziness crashed over me. Something was wrong. I gasped, trying to lift my head, but my vision blurred. My heart began to pound so fast that it hurt. The nurse closest to me glanced at the monitor and immediately panicked. “Something’s wrong, her vitals are dropping!” “Stop the transfusion,” the doctor barked, rushing toward me. “She’s crashing!” Bianca whimpered pitifully, causing Marcus to panic. “No!” Marcus shoved the doctor away so hard that he stumbled backward. “Don’t stop it! Bianca needs the blood! She’s crashing too!” “She’s not crashing,” the nurse shouted back. “Her vitals are stable!” “You don’t know anything!” Marcus roared. “Look at her. She’s pale and she’s in pain. She’s not okay! Don’t stop it, damn it!” I released a cry as a sharp wave of pain pierced through me, but Marcus barely glanced at me. His whole attention was on Bianca, and her fake act. My whole body trembled. I was barely conscious, barely hanging on. The world was spinning so fast, and I could taste blood in my mouth. This was it. I was dying. Regret washed over me as my mind flashed back to Alexander. The way he had said ‘finally’. Like he had always been waiting for me, and like a fool, I had asked him to wait. I hadn’t said yes. I could see the doctors and nurses begging with Marcus to reconsider as they watched me with wide fearful fears, but he remained unbothered, looking at Bianca like she was his everything. My lips moved, and I whispered the only thing I could. “God… please… save my baby…” And then the world turned black. Chapter 7 Isabella’s POV When I opened my eyes next, I wished that I was dead. All my body throbbed with pain, and a strange sense of emptiness settled within me. “Oh, Mrs. Pierce. We are so glad that you’re finally awake. We were worried that we would lose you.” A female doctor said from beside me. My throat burned. My body felt heavy and bruised, like I had been dragged through hell twice I groaned weakly, blinking at the piercing hospital lights. For a moment, I was confused and disoriented. Why was I here? Why did everything hurt? Then everything came flooding back. The abortion, Marcus, Bianca, the transfusion, the intense pain, the chaos, and the fear. My eyes widened as realization struck me, and I turned my head slowly toward the doctor with fear pounding in my chest. There was something on her face, like a sorrowful expression. A chill ran down my spine as dread spread throughout my bones. I was scared to ask, but I had to. “My baby…” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “What about my baby?” The doctor hesitated, and that hesitation was all I needed. My heart sank, and my blood ran cold. Her lips parted, and she shook her head slowly and gently. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “We did everything we could… but the baby didn’t make it.” Everything paused for a moment, and I gasped. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. I felt like I had been punched in the chest hard, and my lungs refused to work. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I thought I had no tears left. I thought I was numb, but I was wrong. I released an inhuman cry that tore at my aching throat. My shoulders shook as I sobbed, harder than I ever had in my life. I cried for the life I never got to meet, I cried for the tiny heartbeat that had been in me, I cried because Marcus had stolen this from me, something I could never get back. At that moment, I wished that I had aborted the child earlier, because I had become attached so fast that losing it now was ripping me to pieces. The doctor stayed silent, giving me space to cry my heart out. After what felt like forever, I wiped at my teary face with trembling fingers. My mind flashed back to Alexander’s offer, and I swallowed. “What day is it?” I croaked, my voice trembling. The doctor gave me a sad smile. “It’s Thursday. You’ve been unconscious for two days.” My eyes widened, and I began calculating the days that Alexander had given me to think of his offer. “I need my phone!” I cried, frantically looking around for it. “Calm down, Mrs. Pierce, it’s in the drawer of the table beside you.” She said calmly, trying to soothe me. My hands shook as I typed a message to Alexander. — I accept your offer, meet me at the orphanage in three hours. — His reply came immediately. —Finally, I was beginning to think that you had changed your mind.— I replied. — Never — “Do you need anything else, Mrs. Pierce?” The doctor asked softly. I gave her a bitter smile as I asked her a question that I already knew the answer to. “Did anyone come to see me?” I asked. From her facial expression, I already knew the answer. She shook her head, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Pierce, but no.” I didn’t feel anything. No pain, no sadness, nothing. All I felt was a hollow ache, like something had been taken out of me, and could never be filled again I turned away from the doctor silently, and stared blankly at the wall for a long time. I didn’t even notice when the doctor left the room. Slowly, I pushed the blanket off me. Moving was very painful, but I ignored the pain. “Mrs. Pierce?” the nurse who just walked in, called softly when she saw me shift. “Please, you need to rest, your body is still in recovery. You lost a lot of blood, and your stitches—” “I’m leaving,” I said flatly, my voice was cold and emotionless. “I don’t need rest. I’m taking my life into my hands right now.” She stepped closer, trying to stop me. “You’re not stable enough to be discharged. We haven’t even—” “I wasn’t asking,” I snapped, my eyes flashing to hers. “Just give me whatever I need to sign.” Her lips parted, and she hesitated again. However, she must have seen something in me that told her not to argue. She nodded and walked out, and within a few minutes, she came back with the discharge forms. Every step I took out of that bed was torture. My legs trembled, and my back ached, but like always, I ignored them. I grabbed my phone and all my belongings and walked out of the room. As I walked down the hallway, something made me pause for a moment. I caught a glimpse of Marcus and Bianca in another room, smiling and completely unbothered. Chapter 8 Isabella’s POV Marcus was feeding her gently with soup, smiling at her with so much love. Watching them before would have caused my heart to ache, but now, I felt nothing. I turned to leave to avoid them seeing me, but like always, I had terrible luck. “Isabella?” Marcus’s voice reached my ears, and I tensed, gritting my teeth in annoyance. I turned slowly keeping my face blank and emotionless as I stared at him. His expression faltered the moment our eyes met. I could see the guilt burning in his eyes, as if he had just realized that I existed. “I… I didn’t know you were awake,” he stammered, standing up from beside Bianca. “How… how are you feeling?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t even blink. I just stared. My silence spoke louder than anything I would have said. He looked down with shame on his face. “Your sacrifice… it wasn’t in vain,” he said gently, lifting his eyes to look at me. “Look, Bianca is fine. The baby is very healthy and strong. You saved them both.” I couldn’t help it, I laughed bitterly and humorlessly, and Marcus flinched at the harsh sound. Bianca rested a hand on her belly, smiling sweetly, but her eyes shone with glee. “Marcus has been taking such good care of me. He never left my side for once.” I wasn’t interested in hearing any more, so I turned without saying anything, ready to walk away, but Marcus jumped up, reaching out to me. “Wait please, Isabella, just wait.” I paused, not because I wanted to, but because I wanted to hear the nonsense he would say. “I’m throwing a party this evening,” he said quickly. “To celebrate your recovery… and Bianca’s safe return home. We all went through a lot, and I just want to bring everyone together. My father will be there, he really wants to see you.” Still, I didn’t say a word. He stepped closer, trying to soften his voice. “Let me give you a ride home. We’re all going the same way anyway.” “I’m not going home,” I said flatly. “I’m going to the orphanage.” Alexander had promised to protect the orphanage when I agreed to his proposal, so I just wanted to make sure everything was in place. I wanted to make sure no one could ever use it against me again, and that Marcus could never touch the only piece of my father I had left. Marcus blinked in confusion. “The orphanage? Why?” I tilted my head, expression still blank. “Because I have business to handle. Don’t bother yourself about it.” Bianca perked up. “Oh! That’s perfect. I’ve been meaning to visit anyway. It is our father’s orphanage, after all.” I lifted an eyebrow at her in surprise. She had always wanted nothing to do with the orphanage. Marcus nodded immediately. “Then we’ll come with you. That sounds great.” I stared at him, stunned for a moment by the speed of his agreement. This was the same Marcus who always rolled his eyes at the mention of the orphanage. The same Marcus who said it was a burden, a waste of money, an unnecessary sentiment. But now that Bianca mentioned it, he quickly agreed. I scoffed under my breath, watching them with a sneer on my face. “Fine,” I said coolly. “You can come with me. But I need one last thing from you.” Marcus straightened slightly, looking hopeful. “Anything.” I reached into my bag, and pulled out the document that I had been carrying since he brought Bianca home. “Sign this.” He blinked at me, furrowing his eyebrows as he took the papers from me. “What is it?” “My discharge form,” I replied with a blank expression. He hesitated for a second. Marcus had always been very careful with whatever he signed. He made sure he read it carefully, no matter what it was. However, immediately he glanced at Bianca, and she smiled coyly at him, batting her lashes, he forgot all about his carefulness. “I’m getting tired, Marcus,” she said sweetly. “Let’s go home fast..” He nodded, barely glancing at the document before signing the document. The moment he finished signing, a small satisfied smirk crossed my lips. “Thank you,” I said, placing the document back in my bag. “Now I’m free.” He didn’t understand the double meaning in my words as he kept fussing over Bianca. Chapter 9 Isabella’s POV When we reached the car, Bianca rushed to open the front passenger door for herself, but to my surprise, Marcus held her back. “Hold on, Bianca,” he said, then he turned to me. “Isabella… maybe you should sit in the front,” he said, giving me a small hopeful smile. “Bianca can stay in the back..” He added. “No,” Bianca protested, pouting like a drama queen. “I’ll get nauseous if I sit in the back. The baby’s been making me so dizzy lately, Marcus” I rolled my eyes. Marcus looked conflicted as he tried to think of how to please us both. “It’s fine,” I said coldly.. “Let her sit in the front.” Marcus tried to protest. “But—” “I said it’s fine,” I repeated, my voice was sharper this time. “Let her sit in the front, Marcus. I don’t care.” There was silence for a moment. Bianca smiled in triumph. Marcus frowned, but he didn’t argue again. I climbed into the backseat silently, wincing quietly as my body ached furiously. As I sat in the backseat, the ache in my body increased slightly, but I clenched my jaw and said nothing. I leaned my head against the window and stared outside, pretending I wasn’t here. After five minutes, Bianca began her little games, hoping to get a reaction from me. She placed her hand on Marcus’s thigh, and her fingers trailed up in slow circles. I didn’t bother looking, but from the corner of my eye, I could see her giving me a mocking side glance. Marcus stiffened immediately. “Bianca,” he warned, murmuring under his breath, moving her hand off. She blinked innocently. “What?” When he didn’t say anything, she returned her hand, and continued, moving her fingers higher this time. “I said stop it,” Marcus snapped, more firmly now. She flinched, and her eyes welled up with tears instantly as she turned away and began to cry softly into her palms. “Why are you yelling at me?” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “I’m pregnant, Marcus… and you’re yelling…” He exhaled heavily, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to yell. Just… stop doing that when…when…. she’s here.” He didn’t mention my name, as if I were a ghost in the backseat, an intruder to their private time. Bianca sniffed, then she leaned forward, and began searching through the compartment. “I’m just looking for tissues,” she muttered. What she pulled out was definitely not tissue. She held up a tiny piece of lace fabric. They were red panties, and she laughed in delight. “Oh my god, Marcus,” she giggled. “Remember this? When we couldn’t make it to the hotel? You pulled me to your lap right in this car and—” “That’s enough,” Marcus said tightly, not looking at her. “Oh, relax,” Bianca said with a roll of her eyes. “Isabella understands that it’s just the hormones. Hormones make one very horny, thankfully… I have you for that.” She murmured softly, placing her hand on Marcus’s thigh again. This time he didn’t say anything. Marcus glanced at me through the rearview mirror, and for a moment, our eyes met, but I looked away before he could see anything in my eyes. . Immediately I got to the orphanage, I stepped out of the car without saying a word, leaving Marcus and Bianca behind. I walked through the familiar gates and into the building that had been my father’s life’s work. My chest tightened with the memory, but I pushed it aside, I had work to do. The administrator, Mr. Jackson, looked up as I entered his office. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw me, and then he smiled warmly. “Miss Isabella,” he said, standing quickly. “You’re back.” “I need to talk to you,” I said, wasting no time in getting to business. Just as we were concluding our discussion, a loud, piercing cry echoed through the halls. My heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. I turned and ran out of the room, Mr. Jackson followed behind me. The stench of smoke hit me immediately I stepped out. I could hear screams coming from the west wing. I rushed forward, and froze in place as I stared in horror at the scene before me. Chapter 10 Isabella's POV The west wing of the orphanage was on fire. The flames burned furiously, consuming everything in their path, and the thick black smoke pierced through my lungs. Children were sobbing. Some were already outside, others were trapped, and the staff tried desperately to evacuate them. “What the hell happened here? How did this happen?” I asked frantically. One of the staff replied, crying hard. “It's your step sister, she started the fire. She kept messing with the gas cookers in the kitchen.” Rage surged through me, but there was no time to confront her. “Get these children out, let me check for more!” I shouted to the staff, then I rushed into the thick smoke. I rushed into different rooms, pulling children out. My lungs burned. My arms trembled. I couldn’t stop. My baby didn’t get the chance to live, so I would make sure these children got a chance, even if it killed me. My legs ached and my vision blurred as I ran through the flames. The fire was spreading faster. One by one, I helped them out. After checking all the rooms, and making sure everyone was safe, I began making my way out, coughing as it was getting harder to breathe. I blindly felt my way back as the smoke was too thick making it hard for me to see. Suddenly, something slammed into me, and I stumbled back, almost falling. “Bianca?” I choked out. She looked disoriented, and panicked, but her eyes widened when she saw me. “I—I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” she coughed, trying to wave away the smoke around her. “I just wanted to scare you… I didn’t know it would spread this fast!” “Are you insane?!” I screamed. “You set a fire in an orphanage! With children inside!” She shook her head. “I just wanted to piss you off, because I knew how much you cared about this place.” Before I could respond, the ceiling began to fall. “Move!” I yelled, grabbing her arm and pushing her out of the way. The ceiling fell before us, blocking us from the exit. We were trapped. Panic surged in my chest. Bianca whimpered, stumbling back. “I don’t want to die,” she cried. “Marcus… Marcus, help!” Suddenly, a voice yelled from outside. Marcus’s voice. “Isabella!” he shouted from outside. “Isabella’s still inside!” Seconds later, he burst through the smoke, with terror on his face. His eyes landed on me instantly. “Isabella!” he shouted, running toward me, holding two gas masks in his hands. They were from the first aid in our car. For a second, just one second, I thought he came for me. I thought I mattered. Until Bianca whimpered softly. “Marcus…” she called faintly, her voice was frail, scared, and pitiful. He froze, his eyes widened. He hadn't known that Bianca was also inside. “Marcus, the baby… I—I can’t breathe—” He immediately turned away from me to rush to Bianca. “No,” I croaked, reaching for one of the gas masks in his hands. He yanked them away from my reach. “Bianca will need them, Isabella! What if one is faulty?!” He barked at me, his eyes blazed wildly. I watched as he quickly placed one of the gas masks on her face, and carried her gently, holding the second gas mask uselessly in his hand. I felt numb at that very moment. I knew he had chosen her already, but being left to die was like a slap. His eyes met mine one last time, and I stared back into his eyes, but I felt nothing. No sorrow, no rage, just acceptance. He swallowed, an unreadable expression crossed his face, then he turned away, disappearing with Bianca in his arms. The flames drew closer. I slumped to the floor, accepting my death. The heat was unbearable, and everything hurt, but I didn't move. A sound reached my ears, but I was too weak to move. I was already losing consciousness. Then I felt strong, gentle arms wrap around me firmly. A deep familiar voice murmured near my ear. “I’ve got you, Isabella. Stay with me.” I tried to look up, but I couldn’t. “I’ve got you now… it’s alright… I’ve got you.” I didn’t know who it was, but I let myself relax into those warm comforting arms as he whispered soothing words over and over till I finally lost consciousness. That day, Isabella Pierce died, and a new person was born. Marcus,One day I will make you pay for what you did to me! 🚨 Plot twist alert! You won't believe what happens next…

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InactiveJun 27, 26
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I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis at 49. I'm 61 now. Turns out I never had osteoarthritis at all. For twelve years, I "managed" a condition I didn't actually have. Twelve years of anti-inflammatories that tore up my stomach and barely touched the pain. Twelve years of topical creams that wore off before I'd finished rubbing them in. Twelve years of being handed a prescription and told to "learn to live with it." I did everything they asked. I kept a symptom journal for three years straight. Every morning. Every flare. Every swollen knuckle. I noted the time, my stress level, the weather, what I'd eaten the night before. I cut out gluten for over a year. I ate more fish. I stretched every single morning. Plain, careful living while everyone around me ate and moved like normal people. When that didn't work, they ran more tests. Rheumatoid factor. Negative. Anti-CCP antibodies. Negative. ANA, CRP, ESR. All normal. "Everything looks fine," my rheumatologist said. "It's just osteoarthritis. We've ruled everything else out." He handed me another prescription for anti-inflammatories and told me to come back in six months. I felt like a hypochondriac. Like maybe I was making it up. The blood work was NORMAL. The doctors were certain. But every single morning, my body told me something was wrong. By the time I woke up, my fingers were locked into claws. It took an hour of hot water before they'd bend. By lunchtime the swelling was so bad my rings wouldn't come off. By evening, just gripping a fork made me wince. Then I'd sleep. And wake up locked tight all over again. I planned my whole day around my hands. Every jar. Every doorknob. Every button on every shirt. I couldn't sit through a dinner without wondering if I'd be able to hold my own glass. I stopped accepting invitations. I never knew if I'd be okay or doubled over trying to cut my own food before the meal even arrived. I bought slip-on shoes and jackets with no buttons because some mornings my fingers just wouldn't cooperate. And every doctor just nodded. "That's osteoarthritis. It gets worse with age. Have you tried losing a little weight?" I tried physical therapy. I tried acupuncture. I tried cortisone shots that wore off in weeks. I tried hand exercises a specialist charged me $150 a session for because someone said they had evidence. I tried fourteen different supplements. Glucosamine. Turmeric pills. Fish oil. Apple cider vinegar shots every morning. Nothing worked. I started to believe this was just my body now. That I'd spend the rest of my life planning my days around my hands and declining invitations because I couldn't trust my own joints. Then my friend asked me a question no doctor ever had. She has seronegative RA herself. We were having coffee, and I was complaining about my hands—I complained to anyone who'd listen at that point. "Have your doctors ever actually checked you for rheumatoid arthritis?" I almost laughed. "I've had blood work a dozen times. They would have caught it." She shook her head. "Not necessarily. Most doctors rule out RA the second your blood tests come back clean. But there's a kind that doesn't show up on the standard panels at all. It's called seronegative RA. The antibodies they look for just aren't there. I spent seven years being told it was osteoarthritis before anyone figured out mine." My mother had RA. So did her mother before her. I'd spent my whole life being told mine was different—just wear and tear, just age. I'd believed that for twelve years. "You're telling me it was never osteoarthritis?" "I'm telling you that you might not have osteoarthritis at all." She set down her cup. "Think about it. Osteoarthritis is wear and tear—the cushioning in your joints slowly wearing down. But that's not your pattern. Both hands. Swelling you can see. An hour of stiffness every single morning. That's not wear and tear. That's inflammation. That's your own immune system attacking the lining of your joints." She wasn't done. "The morning stiffness? That's the inflammation settling in overnight while you're lying still. Your joints seize up because your immune system has been at work all night. The swelling is immune cells flooding the joint. And the reason it loosens once you start moving is that movement finally gets everything circulating again." "What about the exhaustion?" I asked. Because I was always tired. Bone tired. The kind of tired sleep didn't fix. "That's the part no one warns you about," she said. "Your immune system is running a war around the clock, attacking your own body. That takes everything out of you. You're not worn out because you're getting old. You're worn out because your body is fighting itself every single day, and it never gets to stop." Then she said the thing that broke me. "And your blood tests coming back normal? That's the cruelest part. The standard tests hunt for specific antibodies. With seronegative RA, those antibodies aren't there to find. The disease is real. The inflammation is real. But the test that's supposed to catch it was never going to." I went home and couldn't stop reading. Seronegative RA. I'd never even heard the word. But once I knew to look for it, it was everywhere. Research showing it's far more common than most people realize—that huge numbers of RA patients test negative on the standard antibody panels and get sent away. Women who'd spent years being treated for osteoarthritis before anyone recognized the inflammation through their symptoms, an exam, or imaging. Forum posts from people who sounded exactly like me. Normal labs. Every treatment tried. Dismissed for years. Then they found something that finally calmed the inflammation down. And everything changed. I texted my friend the next morning. "Okay. Let's say you're right. What do I actually do?" She called me on her lunch break. "Here's the thing," she said. "You can't out-stretch inflammation. And you can't fix it by cutting out one more food. You have to actually support your body's inflammatory response and protect the joints from the damage it's doing. There's one thing I take every day for exactly that. It's called Vitalisse Quercetin." "What's different about it is the main ingredient—quercetin. It's research-backed for helping support a healthy inflammatory response, and it works as an antioxidant against the oxidative stress that feeds all that stiffness and swelling. And it's not just quercetin sitting on its own. It's got vitamin C for your joints and collagen, plus bromelain, elderberry, and zinc all working alongside it." I looked it up that night. It had been formulated by a doctor—Dr. Linda Clarke—built around quercetin as the primary active ingredient. Sixty-day money-back guarantee. After twelve years of things that didn't help, what was one more try? I started taking two gummies a day. On day four, my hands opened easier in the morning. Not pain-free. But easier. For the first time in months, I got through breakfast without running my fingers under hot water just to make them bend. By the end of the first week, I realized I'd gone two whole days without thinking about my hands. Hadn't braced before picking something up. Hadn't asked anyone to open anything for me. Hadn't planned my morning around an hour of stiffness. That hadn't happened since I was forty-nine. Then came the morning I'll never forget. I looked down at my hands—really looked at them. The swelling that had blurred my knuckles for years was gone. My rings spun loose on my fingers. I could see the bones and the tendons again. I stared at them. Stunned. Then relieved. Then furious. This had been inflammation the whole time. My own immune system, attacking my joints, year after year, while doctor after doctor called it osteoarthritis. "Lose a little weight," they said. "It's just wear and tear," they said. "Learn to live with it," they said. Nobody checked for inflammation. Over the next few weeks, the mornings kept getting easier. The stiffness shorter. The flares further apart. Then they stopped catching me by surprise altogether. By week three, I woke up and my hands worked. And kept working. All day. No hour of stiffness. No swelling by lunch. No wincing every time I gripped something. For the first time in twelve years, I buttoned my own coat without thinking about it. I cooked a whole dinner and carried the dish to the table myself. I picked up my grandchild and held her without being afraid my grip would give out. I don't have osteoarthritis. I never had osteoarthritis. I have seronegative rheumatoid arthritis. For twelve years. And nobody thought to check. I'm not cured. Seronegative RA doesn't just vanish, and I don't pretend otherwise. But now I support my body the way I should have been doing all along. I take two gummies of Vitalisse Quercetin every day. That should have been part of my care from the very beginning. If you've been diagnosed with osteoarthritis… If you've tried the anti-inflammatories and the creams and the supplements and the stretching and nothing has worked… If your blood tests keep coming back normal but you know something is wrong… If your joints are swollen and stiff every morning and not one doctor has ever said the word inflammation… I'm not saying you definitely have seronegative RA. But I spent twelve years treating a condition I didn't have while the real problem kept attacking my joints. Right now Vitalisse keeps their Quercetin in limited stock, and it's been moving fast as more people realize their "osteoarthritis" was never osteoarthritis at all. Once this run sells out, the next one is weeks away. Sixty days to try it. If nothing changes, full refund. But if it works? If you wake up on day four and your hands open easier? If by week two you stop planning your whole day around your joints? If a month from now your rings fit again and you're cooking your own dinner and holding your grandchildren without fear? You'll wish you'd started twelve years ago. I know I do. https://tryvitalisse.shop/products/quercetin-ra You don't have to keep managing a condition you might not even have.

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InactiveJun 27, 26 · 1d
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The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

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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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InactiveJun 26, 26 · 1d
The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

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The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

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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? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&

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