"The address?" Pilot Rick Sullivan asked through his headset, his tone professional but tinged with curiosity.

Catherine didn't hesitate. "Hampton. Callahan Manor. ”

Bryce Bass, sitting in the back seat, heard the address through his headphones and his brows twitched slightly. The Callaghan family—he knew—a deeply rooted Old Money family in New York, whose influence and wealth were slowly and steadily declining. He glanced at the quiet and resourceful woman in the corner, his interest growing even stronger. What is her relationship with them?

The helicopter began to turn, leaving the vast gray Atlantic waters behind as it flew toward the Hamptons' neatly trimmed green lawns and stretches of mansions. After circling for a week, it began to descend—not landing on a private tarmac, but heading straight for the wide, lush green lawns of Callaghan Manor.

The deafening roar of the rotors tears through the elegant atmosphere below. Today is Bryanna Callahan's twenty-first birthday, and the estate is packed with New York's socialites. Champagne flows, string quartets play Vivaldi, and the air is filled with the scent of expensive perfume and polite but meaningless pleasantries.

Bryanna wore a fluffy pink Chanel haute couture gown, the center of the party, immersed in the joy of being surrounded by flattery. Her mother, Anis Callahan, gracefully weaves through the crowd, embodying the perfect hostess, chatting and timely revealing that Bryanna is about to get engaged to the heir to a banking tycoon.

When that black helicopter appeared in the sky—a model that was too advanced and expensive for any of their guests—a wave of excitement spread throughout the party. This uninvited arrival is full of drama.

Anes and Bryanna exchanged a knowing glance, full of anticipation. They thought it was a reclusive billionaire, perhaps a tech giant from the West Coast, drawn by the allure of this exclusive party. An unexpected heavyweight guest.

Bryanna immediately smoothed her skirt, patted her meticulous hair, and prepared to greet the mysterious guest with the brightest smile.

The helicopter's rotors slowed down, and the hatch slid open. Two men dressed in dark suits and wearing headphones stepped out first, exuding a quiet yet chilling aura. They glanced at the crowd, and then one of them set up a portable ladder on the grass.

Then, she appeared.

A young woman, her clothes tattered and dirty, hair a mess, and her face covered in mud. Catherine stepped off the helicopter and stepped onto the clean lawn, squinting slightly in the afternoon sunlight.

The party fell into a shocking deathly silence. The music gradually faded and then stopped completely. Hundreds of pairs of eyes intertwined with confusion and disgust, staring at her.

Bryanni's smile, practiced countless times, froze, then twisted into a look of disgust. "Who is that? What are beggars doing here? ”

Aneth's expression darkened. She calmly signaled the manor security guards with her eyes, signaling them to go over and stop and take away the uninvited guest.

Catherine ignored everyone. Her gaze fell on the grand mansion before her, supported by white columns. A cold and hard hatred congealed in her stomach. This is her mother's house. Her home. And these vultures have devoured them completely.

Bryanna never misses a chance to show her cruelty. She strode toward Catherine, waving a silk fan in her hand, exaggeratedly covering her nose. "Oh my god, you smell like a subway station. Get lost, don't ruin my party. ”

But the security guards hesitated. The helicopter had not yet left, the rotors were still slowly turning, silently and threateningly signaling the power behind it. Aneth was much sharper than her daughter and sensed danger. She walked forward gracefully, her face polite and caring. "Miss, I think you've come to the wrong place."

Catherine's gaze passed over them and landed on a man sitting on the balcony. The champagne glass in his hand froze in midair, just an inch from his lips. Hillary Callaghan—her father.

The moment he recognized her, shock, fear, and anger all intertwined across his face, a complex tide surging through him. The way he looked at her was not that of a long-lost daughter, but of a trouble that had just landed on their own lawn.

Aneth followed Catherine's gaze, and a wave of fear suddenly gripped her. She remembered Hillary once mentioning a daughter he had left in a forgotten town in Pennsylvania—the child of his first wife, who was also Aneis's own sister.

Bryanna was completely unaware, continuing her long speech, mocking Catherine's tattered shirt and mud-stained shoes. All the glamour and extravagance at the party seemed to hold their breath at that moment. Fake smiles and social engagements are completely forgotten.

Catherine looked at the two women in front of her, at their exquisite makeup and hollow eyes. A slow, cold smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She said nothing, just stood there—a ghost from the past, waiting for the grand show to begin.

As if an eternity had passed, Hillary Callahan finally forced himself to take a step. He walked down the balcony steps, wearing a stiff and hypocritical smile, walking toward the daughter he had abandoned years ago.