He stepped into the room, dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair slicked back to a gleaming perfection. His looks might’ve passed for charming if the following words hadn’t overturned my stomach.

“Alyssa,” James began with the self-assurance of a man who believed the world revolved around him, “I know you’re acting out because you’re madly in love with me. That’s why you keep insisting you’re the Ashford Family’s true daughter.”

The room fell silent as he continued, each word grating more than the last. “But you’ve gone too far today.”

Seeing Elissa’s pearly appearance, he was heartbroken and immediately stated.

“The only person I love from beginning to end is Elissa and I will only marry Elissa as a wife in this life; I won’t look at you more than once, even if you stalk me.”

Then, with an air of smug righteousness, he added, “I’ve seen women like her, you—insatiable, bullying, wanting to be my wife, don’t you look at yourself as a city slut?”

He turned back to Elissa with a saccharine smile, pulling out a handkerchief to gently dab at her tears. “My wife,” he declared, loud enough for the room to hear, “must be as kind and graceful as Elissa.”

I didn’t miss the glint of triumph in Elissa’s eyes as she leaned into his gesture, though she quickly masked it with her usual air of humility. “James,” she murmured, her voice soft and trembling, “don’t speak so harshly about my sister. Sure, she’s a little jealous, a little mean-spirited, a little shallow and maybe she has a habit of twisting the truth and fantasizing about being the real Ashford daughter—but apart from all that, she doesn’t mean any harm.”

When people were speechless, I almost laughed out loud.

James—a man whose family owed their entire fortune to the crumbs of business my parents had tossed their way—accusing me of scheming to marry up? I’m not poor and crazy and I’m not stupid.

Before I could respond, a few guests who were friends with Elissa jumped at the chance to add their own insults.

“Alyssa, look at that face you’re making—are you that bitter? James has made it crystal clear that he’ll only marry Elissa. You’re a clown, so get lost where you came from.”

Someone else snickered behind a raised hand. “She’s probably still dreaming herself into thinking she’s the real Ashford heiress and even dreaming about marrying The Young Master James Hansley.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, but Elissa raised her hand delicately, silencing them. “Please, everyone,” she said, her tone full of false compassion. “Let’s try to be understanding. I was born lucky, but my sister wasn’t. She grew up in a mountain village without a mother and father. Her relatives even sold her to a man in his sixties to be his wife. She’s just desperate for love. We should show her some compassion. After all, people with psychological trauma need support, not scorn.”

I stared at her, speechless.

In my twenty years, I have never seen a person who can be shameless to such an extent.

Every word she spoke was a twisted version of her own story. If my parents hadn’t intervened in time to adopt her, she’d have been married off to that sixty-something-year-old man years ago. Yet here she was, weaponizing her past as my own, painting herself as a saint while making me the villain.

I stepped forward, my voice cold and sharp. “Elissa, if anyone here has psychological trauma, it’s you. If I had known you’d turn out to be this shameless, I would’ve begged my parents to leave you to rot in that mountain village with that sixty-something-year-old man. The two of you would’ve been perfect for each other.”

Elissa’s face turned red, her eyes brimming with tears as she played her part to perfection. “Sister,” she sobbed, her voice breaking, “why must you twist everything around? Must all the misfortunes of the world be my fault for you to feel better? Fine, blame me. If it’ll make you happy, then go ahead. Just... don’t scare our guests anymore, please.”

My eldest brother couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough, Alyssa!” he barked. “Even a dog would be more grateful than you. The Ashford Family should’ve known better than to take you in.”

After saying that, he let my second brother go to the study to get a document.

When I looked at the equity transfer agreement that was taken out and Elissa’s name written on it, I froze in place like lightning struck me.

It was a transfer of ownership document—sixty percent of the Ashford Family’s shares, signed over to Elissa.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Sixty percent. Enough to control every major decision within the company.

My mind raced. Before I left the country as an exchange student, my father had shown me this very same document, telling me it was meant to be my birthday gift when I returned.

I knew my father wouldn’t lie to me.

But now, here it was, with Elissa Ashford’s name on it.

The only ones who could’ve orchestrated this betrayal were Theodore Ashford and Gregory Ashford—my so-called brothers.

“Look carefully!” my eldest brother sneered, shoving the document into my face. “See the signature and the seal? Dad’s handwriting was plain as day. If you’re the true daughter of the Ashford Family, why isn’t your name on this paper?”

He hurled the file at me, letting it smack against my chest before it fell to the floor. He didn’t care that I might rip it to shreds in a fit of rage; in front of all these people, doing so would only make me look guiltier.

I bent down to pick it up, my hands trembling. The signature was unmistakable—my father’s. The seal, too, was his, the same one kept securely in his safe. My heart raced as a terrifying thought struck me, ‘Had my two heartless brothers done something to my father?’

But no, the thought was immediately rejected, that couldn’t be. Just yesterday, I had spoken to my parents on the phone. They were supposed to be home tomorrow.

Before I could think further, Elissa stepped forward, her face a mask of false concern. “Sister,” she said sweetly, her voice dripping with insincerity, “I know you’ve tried everything to take my place, but the truth can’t be faked. Reality is reality. You can’t blame anyone else, born in a mountain village, for your bad fate.”

She paused, letting her words hang in the air before adding with a saccharine smile, “But don’t worry. Since you’re my spare blood bank and I’ve been your older sister for so many years, I won’t treat you badly.”

She raised her hand, waving someone over. A squat, overweight man shuffled forward, his hands rubbing together in excitement.

Disgusted, I sidestepped quickly to avoid his touch.

I recognized him immediately—he was the housekeeper’s son, the one with the IQ of a five-year-old. He came toward me, drooling, his grin wide and unsettling.

Seeing the saliva bared open around his mouth, I had a vicious chill.

“Why are you dodging?” my eldest brother barked. “He’s going to be your husband soon. A hug won’t kill you.”

The housekeeper’s son lit up with glee, his eyes sparkling like a child offered a new toy.

I, however, stared in shock. Are my ears broken, or is his mouth pumping?

My second brother chimed in, giving me a rough shove. “What’s with the attitude? You’re just a raggedy thing that came out of a mountain pass that had already been used by an old man in his sixties. You’re lucky this idiot is willing to take you. Stop being so picky. Elissa is kind-hearted. And for the sake of your life’s events, she purposely gave up her birthday banquet for you to use as a wedding banquet. And today, several of our older siblings are here, so we’ll help you decide to get married right now. And when you get married, just be obedient and we can still treat you as a sister.”

Elissa covered her mouth, laughing lightly. “Sister, you slapped Auntie Margareth earlier, but she didn’t even hold it against you. How about this? Kneel down, serve her a cup of tea and apologize. Once you’ve shown proper respect, we’ll forget the whole thing. Then you can work on giving Auntie Margareth a plump grandson soon. Auntie Margareth’s so kind—she’ll treat you well.”

“That’s right!” Auntie Margareth chimed in, her voice grating with excitement. “Serve the tea and you’ll be my daughter-in-law. Tonight, you can sleep with my son.”

My vision went red with rage. Without thinking, I lashed out, kicking Auntie Margareth squarely in the chest. She stumbled backward, falling to the floor in a dramatic heap, wailing and screaming.

I straightened my voice ice cold. “Touch me again and when my parents come back, they’ll strip you of everything.”

Her sobs faltered, fear flickering across her face.

I turned to my brothers, my fury uncontained. “And you two—Theodore Ashford, Gregory Ashford—if you dare to pull this stunt, our parents will never forgive you.”

The room buzzed with whispers, but no one stepped forward to intervene.

“What’s the big deal?” someone muttered. “She’s just Elissa’s spare blood bank. The Ashford Family won’t really mistreat her.”

“Exactly,” another sneered. “She’s already been used by a sixty-year-old. Marrying a younger man is a step up for her. What’s she complaining about?”

Before I could react, my second brother grabbed my wrists in a crushing grip.

“Which leg did you use to kick Auntie Margareth?” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “This one, right?”

He slammed his foot into the back of my knee. The first blow sent a jolt of pain through my leg, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. The second kick, however, was too much. My legs buckled and I fell to the floor, kneeling against my will.

I struggled to rise, my voice shaking with anger. “Let me go! I’m the real daughter of the Ashford Family! Elissa is the fraud!”

No one listened. Instead, people laughed at me for being paranoid again.

My eldest brother pressed a heavy hand on my shoulder, forcing me back down.

“You’ve already stolen enough from Elissa,” he spat. “But now, you dare to lay a hand on your future mother-in-law? As the eldest son of the Ashford Family, it’s my responsibility to teach you a lesson about respect.”

Both of my brothers held me down, one pressing my shoulders while the other forced my head toward the ground. I fought against them, but the dull-witted man pinned me with his weight, drooling as he chanted, “Wedding night! Wedding night!”

Humiliation and despair welled up inside me, spilling over as tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

Then, cutting through the chaos, came a furious, familiar voice from the doorway.

“Stop it! What do you think you’re doing to my precious daughter?”