The marriage uniting the Pruitt and Gilbert dynasties had the whole city watching.

I stood there in my couture gown, exchanging rings with Alex Gilbert.

Then a girl in plain clothes, her long hair loose, burst into the hall and announced that she was the Pruitts' real daughter.

"I'm sorry… but I'm the true eldest daughter of the Pruitt family. My name is Irma Finch."

"Twenty years ago, the hospital mixed up two babies, and that's how I, the Pruitts' real daughter, ended up lost in the mountains for twenty years."

Under the stunned stares of every guest in the room, her eyes rimmed red, she produced a DNA paternity test.

My parents rushed to her side at once, holding her up, their eyes brimming with tears of pity.

My fiancé turned to me with the air of a man doing the righteous thing.

"Ida, since the childhood arranged marriage was meant to be with the Pruitt heiress, I can't marry you."

"But since you aren't the Pruitts' daughter, you'll return all the shares and assets in your name to her."

With that, he turned and handed the ring he'd been about to slide onto my finger to Irma Finch.

Looking at the certainty in my fiancé's eyes, I smiled.

If I hadn't noticed that the paternity test was dated ten days ago, I might actually have believed they were all innocent.

A man whose heart has turned is nothing but last night's leftovers. You dump them in the trash. You don't keep them around to make yourself sick.

After all, I, Ida Pruitt, have never been short of men, and certainly never short of money.

——

In the lavish banquet hall of Cloudpeak Manor, everyone stared at this melodrama unfolding before them, jaws slack.

In her plain white dress, her face meek, Irma Finch clung tightly to my mother's arm, her eyes red as she spoke.

"Mom, Dad, I only found out when I gave blood that my type didn't match my foster parents'. They went to the hospital to check, and that's when we learned the babies had been switched."

"Mom, Dad, I suffered and toiled in the countryside for a full twenty years. The one who should have had silk and luxury and an elite education was me. The one who should have married Mr. Gilbert was me, too."

My parents exchanged a bewildered glance, then looked in disbelief at the paternity test held out before them.

"Child, are you sure you haven't made a mistake…"

Before my father could finish, a woman who looked every bit a village wife darted forward.

"Rose Fernandez, don't you remember me? We shared a hospital room. We really did switch the babies. Your daughter has a red birthmark on the back of her hand. Did you forget?"

As she spoke, she yanked up Irma Finch's sleeve and bared her wrist.

"See this birthmark for yourself. Could I ever give birth to a girl this pretty? She's the spitting image of you."

My mother stared at the red mark, frozen for a moment, and then her eyes finally welled up.

She pulled Irma Finch into a fierce embrace, her face full of guilt and heartache.

"My child, you really are my daughter. You poor thing. Twenty years of hardship. Your father and I have wronged you."

My father, his own eyes red, gathered Irma Finch into his arms as well.

A murmur slowly rose through the hall.

"This is the Pruitts' real daughter? Switched with Miss Pruitt by some twist of fate?"

"Do you even need to ask? Look at the girl. Isn't she the spitting image of Mrs. Pruitt in her youth?"

"So how is Miss Pruitt supposed to run Pruitt Group after this?"

Eyes met other eyes all across the room.

After all, I wasn't just blessed with looks. I was exceptionally capable, and even in my youth I'd shown a startling gift for business.

From the moment I graduated college, I led my own team to develop three patents, and personally maneuvered through a crowd of seasoned old foxes to land the permanent partnership agreement with the Four Great Families.

Single-handedly, I raised the third-rate Pruitt Group to the very top of the industry.

The family elders who knew the inside story all knew I was a business prodigy the likes of which came along once in a century. Yet I always stayed humble and low-key, giving every bit of the credit to my father, saying it was all the result of his careful guidance, that I was merely following behind him and learning.

Over time, everyone simply took it for granted that my father was a man of extraordinary ability.

And my own vision, my skill, my methods—all of it, they assumed, came from his careful teaching.

Amid the whispering of the crowd, Alex Gilbert stepped forward and spoke without a flicker of hesitation.

"Mom, Dad, since the one I was engaged to is the true Pruitt daughter, then the engagement between me and Ida is void."

"My family is old money, a name that means something. We could never marry a fake heiress who took someone else's place in the nest."

Watching his expression change into something I no longer recognized, my chest sank all at once, my fingertips going stiff.

Just yesterday he'd held my hand and spoken of growing old together, the moment still fresh before my eyes; the sound of him swearing he'd love no one but me in this life still echoing in my ears.

Before I could say a word, he spoke again, and what came out of his mouth left me dumbstruck.

"Ida, we may have grown up together, childhood sweethearts and all, but I've always stood by my principles. I stand for the truth."

"Since you aren't the Pruitts' daughter, every core patent under your name, your R&D team, all your resources should go back to the Pruitts. These were always meant to belong to Irma."

My heart cooled, degree by degree, until a chill seemed to radiate from my whole body.

Seeing how grim my face had gone, my parents thought I was unwilling. They came over, their tone heavy with apology.

"Ida, we know this is hard to accept all at once, but what Alex says makes sense too. Irma has suffered twenty years of hardship. It's only right we make it up to her now."

"The resources and assets in your hands—just split half of them off for your sister. We owe her that much."

The whispers rose at once.

"Old Pruitt means business. Said it right out in front of all these people."

"He's set on this daughter, no question. Blood is something carved into the bone, isn't it. One look and it goes straight to the heart."

Every gaze settled on me—on the fake heiress who'd taken what wasn't hers—watching to see whether I'd refuse outright, whether I'd be greedy enough to cling to what belonged to someone else.

I watched Alex move to Irma's side, quietly take her hand, and I caught the flash of envy and spite that crossed her eyes.

I drew a deep breath.

Fine.

The Pruitts had raised me for twenty years, given me the best education, given me their love. The debt was mine.

"Mom, Dad, you're right. Irma's been through so much out there. I agree to give her half of everything under my name."

My parents let out a relief they couldn't quite hide.

The wedding banquet was canceled.

With a sweep of his hand, Hal Pruitt turned it into a reunion celebration instead.

Within moments, someone brought out new clothes, an expensive diamond necklace, bracelets……

Thirty minutes later, Irma made her slow entrance in a lavish gown, attendants at her side, radiant from head to toe, not a trace left of the timid, pitiful creature from before.

In that moment, every eye fixed on the four of them, one happy family. Like a farce, the wedding had become a reunion party.

My father only patted my hand, then turned and led Irma and Alex off to work the room among the guests.

Not one person offered me a single word of flattery after that.

I quietly slipped backstage, changed out of the wedding dress, and drove alone along the River City waterfront until dawn.

Early the next morning, I drove to Pruitt Group as usual.

The company was something I'd built with blood and sweat. I wouldn't—couldn't—throw a tantrum and walk away.

My parents had raised me. Even if they favored Irma, I could understand that.

I'd just reached my office door, hadn't even turned the key, when a soft, simpering voice drifted out from inside, answered by a man's low, doting tone.

"Alex, it's so hard. Do you really think I can do it, if they hand all of Pruitt Group over to me?"

"Irma, you have to believe in yourself. You're your father's own flesh and blood. You carry his brilliant genes. You'll absolutely manage it."

“Besides, you've still got me, haven't you? From now on I'll back you with everything I have. You're going to make the finest heir Pruitt Group has ever had.”

The moment I pushed the door open, my breath caught.

There was Alex Gilbert, sprawled at ease with Irma Finch perched on his lap, guiding her hand through the contracts.

And spread out in front of him were the original baseline prices on the company's heaviest deals.

At the sound, both their heads snapped up. The instant Irma caught the sharp edge in my eyes, she scrambled off Alex's lap in a flurry of panic.

Then she dropped her head, timid, and stood off to the side.

“Sis, what are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn't have just sat in your seat. It was Alex and Dad who said……they said I'd be taking over the company one day, so I should get familiar with things first.”

She kept her head down, the rims of her eyes slowly going red.

Something dark flickered through Alex's gaze. He yanked Irma back and slid an arm around her waist without the slightest shame.

“Irma, don't be afraid.”

“You don't owe anyone an explanation. Everything here was always yours. Someone just moved into a nest that didn't belong to her.”

Irma slowly straightened up, and something smug flickered through her eyes.

Her hand curled around Alex's arm, even as her mouth shaped the words of apology.

“Sis, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to take anything from you. Getting Mom and Dad back, meeting Alex, that's already more than enough for me.”

As she spoke, she rose, picked up the kettle from the coffee table, poured a cup, and carried it over to me.

“Sis, this cup of tea is from me, your little sister. I hope you won't stay angry with me. From now on, the two of us can run Pruitt together, and look after Mom and Dad side by side, can't we?”

Watching her stand there in front of me, so meek, I felt like a great stone had lodged itself in my chest. In the end, I still reached out my hand.

The instant my fingers brushed the cup, the entire cup of tea poured down over the back of my hand, and a searing pain shot through my whole body.

On reflex, I shoved Irma away, and all at once she seized my scalded hand and rubbed it hard.

“Sis, I know you don't like me, that you blame me for taking your things. But I came to you in good faith, to apologize and explain. How could you pour your tea over my hand?”

The sting on the back of my hand jolted through every nerve, and I wrenched my arm free of Irma harder than I meant to.

There was a cry, and Irma toppled onto the coffee table, knocking over the kettle, the boiling water splashing across her arm too.

Before I could get a word out, a frantic shout rang through the office.

“Irma, what happened to you?”

My father crossed the room in a single stride and pulled her up.

Irma clutched her arm tight, eyes brimming red.

“Mom, Dad, I'm fine. I was just careless and touched the hot water myself.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Alex roared.

“Irma, even now you're still going to swallow it and protect her? Ida couldn't stand the sight of you. First she poured her tea on your hand, then she shoved you down, and you're still speaking up for her.”

Mom rushed forward at once and pulled Irma's hand down. A row of livid blisters across her arm came into full view of everyone.

She sucked in a sharp breath, tears of pity spilling over.

“You foolish girl, burned like this and still holding it in. Come with me to the hospital, quickly, before it leaves a scar.”

All four of them swept Irma out of the office in a panicked rush.

The moment he stepped through the door, my father turned back and gave me a long, weighted look, then sighed.

“Ida, Dad knows you're proud and capable. But Irma has already been through so much. You shouldn't have gone after her.”

And with that, he didn't spare me another glance, striding out of the office.

That single line, “Dad, it wasn't me,” caught in my throat in the end. Even if I had said it out loud, what would it matter? He wouldn't have heard it anyway.