My father brought his illegitimate daughter home today. CRACK! The sharp, clean sound of a slap echoed through the opulent living room. I watched with cold eyes as the girl I’d just struck crumpled to the floor. She collapsed bonelessly against my brother, her eyes welling with tears. "Leo… your sister… she’s hurting me…" Heh. Such a convincing performance. As my brother, Leo, grabbed her slender arm, cutting off any chance of escape, our eyes met. In that fleeting glance, we shared a silent, cold understanding. I slowly crouched down, my fingers tracing the outline of her deceptively fragile face. I enunciated each word with chilling clarity. "An illegitimate daughter with no shame, daring to pull the innocent victim act in front of me, Scarlett Vance?" "Who gave you the nerve?" 1 My father, a man who might as well have been dead for all the attention he paid my brother and me, called out of the blue. His voice, slick with a false warmth, announced he was back from a "business trip" and had a "big gift" for us. Leo and I were in the dining room. At his words, we both put down our forks in unison. Our eyes met across the table, reflecting the same deep, biting mockery. A gift? From him? From a man who treated his own children with icy indifference, who hadn’t fulfilled a single fatherly duty in his life? We wanted nothing to do with his "gifts." Sure enough, when he pushed open the front door, the true nature of his "gift" was revealed. Standing behind him was a slender girl with a pitifully innocent face that bore a faint, three-tenths resemblance to my own. A cold sneer instantly formed on my lips. The love child he’d kept hidden for eighteen years? What a "gift" indeed. My father, the current patriarch of the Vance family, seemed oblivious to the glacial expressions on our faces. He frowned at my look of utter contempt and spoke in a tone dripping with condescension, as if bestowing a great charity upon us. "Your sister has suffered for eighteen years without a name or a home. It's time she was welcomed back into the family." His gaze shifted to me, his voice now a command. "Scarlett, from now on, you will get along with your sister." Sister? I stared at the girl. Her eyes, her features… they were a haunting echo of the woman who was indirectly responsible for my mother's death. My fists clenched at my sides, hidden from view. A soft cough from Leo pulled me back from the brink of overwhelming hatred. I turned, catching the signal in his eyes. It's time. In the next second, a calculated rage surged through me. Without a second thought, I lunged forward and delivered a resounding slap across the girl’s face. My years of karate training made the blow both vicious and precise. The so-called sister was sent sprawling to the floor in a pathetic heap. I loomed over her, the sneer on my lips twisting into something cruel. "The spawn of some cheap homewrecker, and you expect me to look after you? Not having my leftovers thrown in your face is the only charity you'll get from me." "You think your filthy blood makes you my equal? Keep dreaming, you gutter trash!" Humiliated, the girl cradled her face and began to sob on the cold marble floor, playing the part of the ultimate victim. Before the rage on my father’s face could erupt, my brother, Leo, beat him to it. He shoved me hard, sending me tumbling to the ground, and then slapped me in return. He roared at me, each word laced with profound disappointment. "Scarlett! How dare you talk back to Father! You disrespectful brat!" I landed on the plush carpet, looking up with a face full of defiance, staring daggers at my brother. My father, however, was thoroughly pleased by Leo's "righteous" display. He clapped him approvingly on the shoulder before turning back to me, his expression now a mask of frost. "To compensate your sister, I've already transferred all the shares your mother left you to Aurora." "We'll consider this matter closed," he warned. "But if you ever dare to bully Aurora again, don't blame me for forgetting you're my daughter!" With that, he stormed out without a backward glance. Aurora scrambled to her feet, clutching her swelling cheek. Before scurrying after him, she shot me a look so venomous it could kill. The moment they were gone, Leo’s expression changed completely. He reached down to help me up. "Get off," I snapped, batting his hand away and getting to my feet on my own. He paid my anger no mind, anxiously checking me over. "Did I push you too hard? Are you hurt?" he whispered. I brushed off my wrinkled clothes, my tone light. "I'm fine. The carpet's thick enough. No harm done." I glanced towards the door, adding with a smirk, "Unlike Aurora. She landed right on the marble. I bet her tailbone is cracked." Leo couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. The afternoon sun streamed in as the maid brought our tea. Leo sipped his coffee, his eyes flicking to the second floor where Aurora was now fawning over our father. A look of undisguised contempt crossed his handsome face. "Just a mistress's daughter. A born sycophant who only knows how to cling to men. And she thinks she's worthy of Mother's shares?" I curled my lip, speaking in a voice only we could hear. "Brother, the show is just beginning. You need to learn patience." "After all," I added, "getting her to spit it all back out, with interest, is going to require a major effort from you." We looked at each other and smiled. In the quiet before the storm, this moment of peace felt surprisingly precious. 2 My brother Leo and I are allies forged in hatred. Our mother came from one of the most prestigious old-money families in the city, the sole heiress to her father's fortune. But she had terrible judgment, falling for my father, a penniless social climber with nothing to his name. My father built his empire on the back of my mother's family, only to cheat on her without a second thought while she was on her deathbed, driving my grandfather to an early grave from pure rage. He even had the gall to steal the inheritance our mother left for us, all to please his mistress. Thankfully, the mistress didn't live long, dying early and leaving behind only that wretched creature, Aurora. Our original plan was to wait until Leo had complete control of the Vance Corporation, then cast both of them—our father and Aurora—into the pits of hell. But we never expected our father to be so impatient. Before the shares could even warm Aurora’s hands, he eagerly paraded her through the front doors of our home. Fine. The plan may have been forced ahead of schedule, but Leo and I were determined to take back everything that was rightfully ours. Not a single piece would be left behind. Of course, this required a little bit of strategy. Aurora was laughably naive. She must have truly believed she was some heaven-sent protagonist, that everyone should revolve around her and treat her with unconditional kindness. So when Leo showered her with "affection," she didn't suspect a thing. Instead, she soaked it all up, reveling in the attention. Over the years, as the Vance business grew, my father became lost in the vanity of his success, his grip on the company loosening. Now, Leo had already taken over most of the operations. In the eyes of the city's elite, he was the de facto heir. In the past, I was the one who accompanied Leo to all social functions. Aurora would watch me leave in my couture gowns and dazzling jewelry, her eyes overflowing with an envy she couldn't hide. So, she started whining to Leo, crying and begging for a chance to see the world of the rich and famous. I threw a massive tantrum over it, which only strengthened Aurora's resolve to replace me. In the end, our father stepped in, scolding me for being "immature" and "not knowing how to yield to my sister." He ordered the maids to pack up all my finery—gowns, jewelry, everything—and give it to Aurora. In that moment, Aurora looked like a victorious rooster, proudly clinging to my brother's arm, her face a mask of undisguised triumph. I watched them leave with a look of pity, silently lighting a candle for my poor brother in my mind. He was in for a rough night. Aurora grew up on the streets. You could dress her in royal robes, but she'd never look like a princess. She might have a face similar to mine, but she could never replicate the high-society grace that had been ingrained in me since birth. Her posture, her table manners, even the most basic ballroom dancing—she was clueless about it all. On what grounds did she dare to compete with me? Sure enough, two hours later, I received a text from my best friend, Gwyneth. Gwyneth: Scarlett, did your brother get kicked in the head by a donkey? Why would he bring that illegitimate girl out in public to embarrass himself? Gwyneth: She's a disaster! She just stomped on my foot while dancing. My new Louboutins! Aaaah! I looked at the screen and couldn't help but laugh out loud. I could just picture Aurora, clumsy and flustered, making a fool of herself at the gala. It wasn't until eleven o'clock that night that Leo returned, an exhausted-looking Aurora in tow. The moment she walked in, she glared at me with eyes red and swollen from crying. I just shrugged innocently, not bothering to engage. Leo patted my shoulder, not even trying to hide the schadenfreude dancing in his eyes. That night, the private group chat for the city's trust-fund kids exploded. Everyone knew I didn't get along with my "sister," so they didn't hold back in their mockery of her. I scrolled through the chat history, everything proceeding exactly as I'd planned. From the moment Aurora entered, her performance of incompetence began. She tried to strike up conversations, feigning familiarity. While most people maintained a polite facade, they'd quickly make an excuse and flee after a few sentences. I chuckled to myself. Honestly, what did you expect? You're an illegitimate child who can't be shown in public. Did you really think the snobbish heirs and heiresses would welcome you with open arms? Later, during the dancing portion of the evening, Leo was pulled away by some business partners to discuss a project, leaving Aurora stranded on the dance floor. It was a public execution. Completely inept at dancing, she managed to step on the feet of every single man who asked her for a turn. During a partner exchange, she even stomped on my best friend, Gwyneth. Gwyneth was famously sharp-tongued. She didn't miss a beat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Some people should learn not to force their way into circles where they don't belong. Is it fun making a complete clown of yourself?" That one sentence was enough to make Aurora's eyes well up with tears on the spot. The funniest part? When Leo returned, she didn't dare say a word of complaint, terrified that he would think she'd performed poorly and she'd never get another chance at such a "privilege." The city's high society is a small world. A new laughingstock was a rare treat. After they'd had their fill of mockery, the bored young elites started digging into her background. Overnight, Aurora's entire family tree, down to her great-great-grandparents, was practically unearthed for all to see. 3 The next morning, Aurora was up bright and early, seated at the dining table with a face of delicate makeup, looking every bit the lady of the house. I came downstairs just in time to see Leo, a "doting" expression on his face, peel an orange for her. Aurora accepted it with a shy blush and popped a segment into her mouth. The next second, her face contorted as she fought to control her expression against the overwhelming sourness. I desperately stifled my laughter until Leo turned away, and then I couldn't hold back the gleeful smirk. After breakfast, the driver was waiting to take Aurora and me to the same elite private school. My father, in his effort to "compensate" her, had transferred her there. He'd told her to study hard, then immediately left for his own pleasures at a private club. Inside the car, the partition slowly rose, shielding us from the driver's view. Aurora instantly dropped her fragile act, her eyes full of provocation. "Sister, I went to the gala yesterday, and all the young masters and ladies of the great families loved me. So many people came to talk to me." She lifted her chin smugly. "And so many handsome, distinguished men asked me to dance. I bet that's a level of treatment even you don't get, sister." I couldn't be bothered to even look at her. I rolled my eyes at the ceiling of the car and pulled out today's French newspaper. My mother had studied design in France when she was young, and her greatest wish was for me to learn the language. I'd kept up the habit for years, for her. Seeing my indifference, Aurora, not to be outdone, also picked up a newspaper. Though she couldn't understand a single word, she pretended to read it with great focus. I scoffed. Wasting my breath to mock her wasn't worth the effort. When we got to the classroom, I had just settled into my seat when Aurora began her deeply flawed self-introduction at the front of the class. When she finished, the teacher started looking for a seat for her. A quick scan of the room revealed only one empty spot. Next to my fiancé, Terrence Hawthorne. The teacher was clearly aware of our relationship and hesitated, even considering bringing in a new desk. After all, on one side was the fiancé of the legitimate Vance heiress, and on the other, the newly acknowledged illegitimate daughter. The situation was awkward, to say the least. However, upon learning Terrence's identity, Aurora's eyes lit up, and she volunteered eagerly. "Teacher, I'll just sit with this student!" The teacher shot me a troubled look. Seeing that I had no reaction, seemingly unconcerned, she could only nod helplessly. The other students watched Aurora's desperate attempt to latch onto him, their eyes filled with undisguised disgust. As for me, I calmly took out my notebook and began reviewing my notes, letting her buzz around Terrence like an annoying fly, pestering him with questions. Terrence was naturally aloof, but today, surprisingly, he showed Aurora an immense amount of patience. In just one morning, her form of address for him had already evolved from "this student" to an intimate "Brother Terrence." My best friend Gwyneth was practically dying of anxiety watching this, but I remained unhurried, as if I weren't the one being publicly cuckolded. I played the part of the "spineless turtle" for a full two weeks. It wasn't until a group project in economics class that Aurora once again snatched my usual spot, brazenly demanding to be in a group with Terrence. This time, I had reached my limit. I stood up with a cold smile, grabbed Aurora's ponytail, and, under the watchful, anticipating gazes of the entire class, dragged her into the girls' restroom. My "loyal friends" were quick on the uptake, standing up to block a few boys who looked like they might interfere. I specifically chose the filthiest, uncleaned stall and ruthlessly threw her inside. "Aaaah!" Aurora let out a piercing scream. "Scarlett Vance, you bitch! You just wait, I'm going to get Terrence over here right now!" I sneered and delivered two crisp slaps to her face. "'Brother Terrence'?" I repeated slowly. "How intimate. What, are you already so eager to follow in your trashy mother's footsteps and become a mistress? Is this a family talent?" Aurora, furious, tried to fight back, but I kicked her back into the stall. Her brand-new school uniform was instantly soaked in filthy water. "Don't bother screaming. Your precious Terrence isn't here. Today, let me be the one to teach you the rules of high society!" Beside me, Gwyneth wrinkled her nose in disgust and picked up a half-full trash can from the corner, about to dump it on Aurora's head— "Stop!" A sharp command came from the doorway. Terrence Hawthorne, impeccably dressed in a suit and tie with his student council president badge pinned to his chest, had "finally" arrived, his face a mask of righteousness. Seeing her savior, Aurora's crying intensified, becoming a picture of pitiable beauty. Terrence helped her up with a pained expression, then glared at me with eyes full of utter disappointment. "Scarlett, I never thought you could be so jealous! I was only being kind to Aurora because she's suffered so much in the past, and you torment her at every turn!" "You've disappointed me so much!" He paused, delivering the final blow. "If there's a next time, I think I'd rather marry Aurora than a venomous woman like you!" With that, he carefully supported the "injured" Aurora and left. Before they disappeared, Aurora didn't forget to look back and shoot me a triumphant, victorious glare. I, of course, gave her exactly what she wanted: a performance of jealousy, resentment, and bitter hatred. Only when their figures had completely vanished did Gwyneth and I let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. Gwyneth stretched dramatically and sidled up to me with a grin. "That kick was epic. Aurora is covered in so much grime." She added, gloating, "Terrence was standing so close to her. That expensive suit of his is probably ruined too, right?" The image made me grimace in disgust. "Next time I hit her, we need to find a cleaner spot. That was truly revolting." For that economics project, Aurora ultimately got her wish and was paired with Terrence. The result? The professor mercilessly gave her the lowest possible grade. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Terrence had done the entire report by himself; Aurora was just a name on the paper. The blonde, blue-eyed economics professor frowned at Terrence on the stage and asked in fluent French, "Terrence, you and Scarlett have always worked so well together. Why the change? Your new partner, forgive my bluntness, is terrible. She can't keep up with your thought process at all." Aurora, not understanding a word of French, could only stand beside Terrence like a pretty, clueless doll. But the wealthy students in the audience understood perfectly. They erupted in undisguised laughter, all turning to look at me in the back row. I remained expressionless, as if I weren't the center of their discussion. Terrence, at a loss for words, could only lower his gaze and apologize in French. "Professor, I am very sorry. I messed up this project." The teacher glanced at the pitiful-looking Aurora, sighed in resignation, and waved them off the stage. Gwyneth, sitting in the front row, personally witnessed the teacher mark a bright red "D-" next to Aurora's name. As she graded, the teacher muttered in English, "I don't get kids these days. Trading a genius teammate for a useless but pretty vase." Gwyneth was shaking with silent laughter in her seat. And Aurora, at that very moment, was tearfully apologizing to Terrence, who just gently stroked her hair and comforted her in a soft voice. What a moving performance of deep, unwavering devotion.
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