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.

I crouched on the floor, sorting through the market data I'd collected through countless skipped meals and sleepless nights, and tears dripped one by one onto the contracts.

Ten minutes later, I straightened up and dialed the company's internal line, my voice level.

"Roger Finch, pass the word. The sales team meets in the conference room in ten minutes."

I shoved the noise out of my head and sat down with the sales director, the general manager, and the others to work through next quarter's plan.

We drafted the expansion strategy and reached out to our regular clients.

By the time the work was done, it was night, and I realized I hadn't eaten a single thing all day.

I lingered in the office for a quarter of an hour, then grabbed my car keys and headed home.

She was just a young girl. A little jealousy, a little insecurity, that I could understand. Mom and Dad would believe me. They would see right from wrong.

The moment I stepped into the living room, even though I'd braced myself, something in my chest still ached.

My mother sat beside Irma Finch, feeding her one spoonful at a time.

Dad sat on the sofa, poring over a stack of documents.

"There, sweetheart, eat more. I simmered this premium health tonic for two hours myself, added cordyceps and everything. Look how thin you are."

"The doctor said today that you're anemic, too. How on earth did that foster mother of yours treat you?"

Irma clung sweetly to my mother's arm, smiling as she said,

"Mom, my foster mother loved me too. Pulling weeds every day, cooking, washing clothes, it really wasn't so hard. All the kids up in the mountains live that way."

"After Dad passed, she raised me and my little brother all on her own. It wasn't easy for her. If hitting me a few times and yelling at me made her feel better, then that's fine."

My mother's face shifted, and Dad looked up too, a fresh flicker of anger in his eyes.

"Despicable. Treating a daughter of my Pruitt family like that…"

At the sound of the door, every head turned toward me.

Irma scrambled to her feet at once and, in her flustered haste, knocked over my mother's bowl.

She dropped back down to the floor, frantically picking up the pieces.

"Mom, I'm sorry, it was all my carelessness. I'll never break another bowl, I promise. Please don't hit me."

My mother couldn't hold back her grief and fury another second. She pulled Irma into her arms and broke into wails.

"Oh, my daughter, you've suffered so much."

Irma's eyes reddened as well, and she gently dabbed at my mother's tears.

"Mom, it's all my fault. I accidentally got my sister burned this morning, and she didn't mean to push me, she was just angry for a moment. And tonight I knocked over the bowl by accident. I really am useless."

Alex Gilbert stepped in front of me, his gaze hard and cold,

his tone thick with resentment.

"Ida, I know you can't stand it, having to hand over what's yours to Irma, so you back her into a corner at every turn. Irma's timid by nature, that's why she panics and goes pale in front of you."

"Let me make this clear. Irma is my fiancée. Drop that superior attitude of yours, keep a low profile from now on, and stop bullying her."

There was no guilt on Alex's face. Only cold contempt.

I looked at the four of them, my eyes icy, and suddenly I saw it in every gaze: something heavy, something laden, disappointment, sorrow.

So it really was me who had bullied Irma Finch.

And I had no idea how to explain.

The living room sank into silence. After a moment, my father spoke, slowly,

"Ida, good thing you're here. There's something I need to tell you."

"I know you're a capable, good child. But our Pruitt family's true daughter has come home now. I've decided to transfer all of Pruitt Group's shares over to Irma, to give her the footing she needs to stand in high society."

"And the clients, the team, the resources you hold, ease Irma into them little by little, and let her take over from here on out."

A bucket of ice water poured down over my head. The living room was as warm as a spring breeze, yet I was shaking from head to toe.