Five years. Five years of studying abroad, only to return to the Reynold family estate and find that Brooke Ashton, the girl we’d taken in, had completely usurped my place as the Reynold heiress. It was Camilla’s birthday—my mother’s birthday—and the house was filled with guests bearing expensive gifts. Brooke spotted me instantly. First, a flicker of shock, quickly masked by a sneering smile. Then, in a voice loud enough to carry across the crowded drawing room, she launched her first attack. “Our family paid for your education, and it took you five years to finish a three-year program? I thought you were just planning to live off the Reynold money forever and never show your face.” She dramatically covered her nose, her expression morphing into one of pure disgust. “It’s Camilla’s birthday. How could you possibly show up looking so… grubby?” She waved her hand toward the housekeeper. “Mrs. Davis, please, take her luggage to the maid’s quarters. We can’t have her belongings stinking up the place for our guests.” A year ago—a lifetime ago—I would have crumbled under her manipulation, paralyzed by that familiar, poisonous blend of guilt and shame. But not now. I had been reborn. I snatched a glass of champagne from a passing tray and launched its contents directly into her face. “You’re nothing but a parasite the Reynolds took in! Who the hell do you think you are, calling yourself the heiress?!” 1 The icy spray of the champagne hit Brooke, and she froze, mid-sentence, jaw slack with shock. Mrs. Davis was the first to react, rushing forward to dab at Brooke’s face with a napkin. “Oh, Miss Brooke! You’re such a kind girl! What did you do to provoke her?” The housekeeper shot me a blaming look. “You stay away for years, and the minute you return, you cause trouble for Miss Brooke… Mrs. Reynold will be furious when she hears about this.” I looked at Mrs. Davis, and a chilling wave of clarity washed over me. In my past life, I had been unfailingly kind to her, even bringing her entire family to live and work on the estate. Yet, she had been Brooke’s loyal accomplice, helping to humiliate me at every turn. I cut her off, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Mrs. Davis, I was only gone for five years. Since when does an outsider get to be called ‘Miss Reynold’ in this house?” Mrs. Davis’s wiping hand paused. She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. In my previous life, Brooke’s gaslighting had convinced me that I was the one who was defective, which was why none of the staff respected me. Brooke finally snapped out of her shock. Her eyes welled up instantly, fat, perfect tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stella! I’ve treated you like a sister since we were kids! How can you say such a thing? What did I do to deserve this?” I dropped my luggage and sat down casually, staring her down. “Don’t even try. I don’t want you as a sister.” “The Reynold family has no room for a fraud like you, Brooke.” A tall, imposing figure stepped forward immediately, placing himself between me and Brooke. It was Troy Maxwell, the sole heir to the Maxwell fortune. “Camilla has taken Brooke to every social event for years. If anyone is the interloper here, it’s you!” He glared at me, his handsome face twisted with distaste. “As long as I’m here, you will not lay a finger on Brooke.” Troy Maxwell. Four years ago, my father had mentioned an arranged engagement with the Maxwells. I hadn’t even met him then and had been lukewarm about the idea. Now, after only five years, he was fiercely devoted to Brooke. Good, I thought. I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. Other guests chimed in, circling me with looks of open contempt. “I heard the Reynolds had an adopted daughter who was studying abroad. This must be her.” “So much education, only to come back and try to steal someone else’s life. What an ungrateful wretch!” Brooke managed a smug, triumphant look through her tears. “Stella, it seems you’ve forgotten your manners after five years away. The Reynolds are high society. Your behavior is an absolute disgrace!” Mrs. Davis quickly nodded. “Don’t upset yourself, Miss Brooke. Mrs. Reynold will be back soon. She’ll set things right.” I smiled. “Perfect. I’ll wait right here.” But Brooke couldn’t wait. She lunged at me, long, sharp nails extended, trying to pull me to my feet. I recoiled in disgust and pushed her away, but she held on, scratching deep into my arm. A sharp, searing pain. I looked down. Blood was welling up from the scratch. My fury, the suppressed rage of my entire last life, ignited. With a loud SMACK, I swung my hand across her face. “Ah!” Brooke shrieked, stumbling backward. She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re just a ward of this family! How dare you hit me!” The guests scrambled to steady her, and Troy wrapped his arms tightly around her, his face a mask of furious protectiveness. He pointed a finger at me. “You ungrateful wretch! Camilla should never have wasted her charity on you!” I calmly adjusted my jacket, then pointed to my own face, addressing the crowd. “Don’t you notice the resemblance? Doesn’t anyone see how much I look like Mrs. Reynold?” I paused. “I’ll tell you something. I am the true Reynold daughter. If any of you cross me, don’t expect the Reynold family to continue any business partnerships with you.” Brooke gave a short, hard laugh, pushing away the people supporting her. “Look-alike? That’s a joke! My mother and I are cut from the same cloth! These people aren’t blind, Stella!” I nodded slowly. “You’d better remember saying that.” Just then, Mr. Harrison, a long-time associate of the Reynold family, emerged from the crowd. He scrutinized me, his eyes widening slightly. “Wait… you do look remarkably like Camilla’s predecessor, Mrs. Reynold… Is there some kind of misunderstanding?” “Misunderstanding?” As the guests muttered among themselves, a sharp clatter of heels echoed from behind. “I’d like to see who is bullying my Brooke!” 2 Heads turned toward the sound. A perfectly composed, impeccably dressed woman glided into the room. It was Camilla Stone—the current Mrs. Reynold. Camilla was a nationally recognized news anchor, famous for her heroic, on-the-scene reporting of a major disaster years ago. The station that had broadcast her to fame? My father’s. The moment she saw me, Camilla pulled Brooke close, stroking her hair as she spoke to me with a sugary venom. “So, you finally decided to drag yourself back? I truly thought you’d use the Reynold’s money to live out your days and never bother us again.” She gave a possessive squeeze to Brooke. “It just goes to show you the difference between a natural child and… well, not. Brooke already bought me a global limited edition diamond necklace for my birthday. Unlike you, all you’ve given me is a headache.” She was openly calling me the adopted child, the lesser child. Brooke leaned into her, the picture of tearful martyrdom, and choked out, “Mom, it’s okay. Maybe Stella just forgot your birthday. And she’s always felt a little inferior to me, so I understand why she’d lash out.” The surrounding guests started buzzing, accusing me of bad manners and ingratitude. One woman spoke up, addressing Camilla. “Mrs. Reynold, she’s back from college. You have no obligation to keep supporting her. Why don’t you just kick her out?” “Exactly! You didn’t see how she hit Brooke a minute ago!” Only Mr. Harrison remained thoughtful, his brow furrowed. He took a deep breath. “This is too big for an impromptu decision. Maybe we should wait for Mr. Reynold to return to deal with it.” “I hear he’ll be back next month.” Five years ago, my father had a critical overseas project. I had always been close to him and distant from Camilla, so he took me with him to make sure I wasn’t uncomfortable at home, which turned into my five-year education abroad. In my past life, I hadn't waited for him; Camilla and Brooke had driven me to suicide before he ever came home. Brooke had then seamlessly taken my place as the Reynold’s only daughter. Camilla’s face hardened at Mr. Harrison’s suggestion. “What are you implying? That I’m wrong to be angry?” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch. “She may be my ward, but I raised her! I know exactly what kind of person she is! She’s been tormenting Brooke for years!” Mrs. Davis immediately jumped to her defense, her expression one of agonizing sincerity. “Mrs. Reynold is right! Miss Brooke is too sweet for her own good. She never spoke up when Miss Stella bullied her before. She only spoke sharply today because she cares so much about the birthday party. Usually, she’s a perfect angel.” Watching their synchronized, nauseating performance, I felt a knot of cold resolve tighten in my chest. This time, Camilla and Brooke would not get the chance to destroy me. I looked directly at Camilla and enunciated every word clearly. “Camilla. This time, when I walk back in, it’s not just Brooke who’s getting tossed out.” “You are too.” “You!” Camilla trembled with fury. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. As if one wasn’t enough, she struck me several more times in quick succession. “Stella Reynold!” “I took you in and raised you for twenty years! You won’t even call me Mom, and you think you can kick me and Brooke out?! In your dreams!” My head snapped sideways with the force of the blows. My face was stinging, and I tasted the metallic tang of blood from a cut on my lip. Brooke, delighted by the sight, raised her chin proudly. She clutched Troy’s arm. “Troy and I are getting engaged next week. I expect you to keep today’s little outburst quiet so you don’t affect both our families’ stock prices.” 3 “Engaged? Ha!” Brooke had always snatched everything I had. It was clear that from the moment the Reynold-Maxwell engagement was first rumored four years ago, she had been throwing herself at Troy. And now, she thought she’d won this ridiculous competition? But the new me saw things clearly. Their engagement was a safety net. If my father returned to find Brooke established as the future Mrs. Maxwell, he would likely be forced, for the sake of the business alliance, to grant her a formal position and forgive her past transgressions. Seeing me frozen in place, Brooke assumed I was scared. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low, condescending whisper, a tone of false mercy. “Kneel down, apologize to me now, and I might consider letting bygones be bygones.” I couldn’t take any more. I wiped the blood from my mouth and shoved her away from me. “Apologize? Are you insane?! Apologize to a fraud?!” “Trust me, Brooke. You’ll be the one begging for forgiveness soon enough.” Troy, quick as a viper, caught Brooke as she staggered backward. He gently stroked her cheek, then turned back to me, his brow furrowed in annoyance and his voice dripping with condescension. “Did you have no parental guidance growing up? How dare you act like this in someone else’s home!” “I’ve heard the rumors that the Reynold’s ward constantly covets Brooke’s things. But I’m warning you: she is my fiancée now. That is something you, the parasite, will never achieve!” The sheer arrogance of the man. He saw I hadn’t moved and turned to Camilla with a serious expression. “Camilla, call security now. Get her out of here before she can cause any more damage.” Camilla’s face was dark. She immediately pulled out her phone and sent a voice message to the guards. “Get in here immediately and throw Stella Reynold out!” I couldn’t believe her audacity. In the five years my father and I were gone, she had clearly grown bold. Did she truly believe her fame as a news anchor made her untouchable, even by the Reynold family? Before I could process the thought, several heavy-set security guards approached me, their faces grim. Camilla spoke coldly. “Get her out. I don’t want to see her in this house tonight!” The other guests clapped and cheered. “Good! That ungrateful wretch needs to be put in her place!” “That’s the fierce spirit of the famous anchor, Camilla Stone! So decisive!” Mr. Harrison tried to push through the crowd to help me, but he couldn’t get through the wall of bodies. The guards grabbed my arms without a word, pulling me roughly toward the door. The grip was agonizing. “My father is coming back tonight! How dare you lay a hand on me! Let go!” I roared. Brooke’s face flickered with a brief look of panic. She immediately turned to a similarly startled Camilla. “Mom, what did she say? Dad… is he back?” Camilla glanced at her phone, then let out a scoff. “She’s a wild child. She’s been a liar since she was little.” She paused, then added viciously, “Even if he is, so what? Do you think he’d let you hurt Brooke? She’s the future Mrs. Maxwell. You will never measure up to her!” Encouraged, the guards grew more forceful. One yanked my hair, roughly dragging me toward the exit. “Just go already!” Camilla smiled, her eyes filled with scorn. “You’ll never be good enough to stand beside my Brooke.” Suddenly, a voice, deep and filled with cold, absolute authority, ripped through the commotion from the doorway. “Take your filthy hands off her!” It was my father. Victor Reynold. 4 Seeing my father, I instantly felt my eyes well up. In the past life, he died without ever knowing the truth, never even seeing me one last time. The very first thing I had done, the moment I was reborn, was to ensure he rushed back today. When Camilla saw Victor, the color drained from her face. Her eyes darted around, and she stuttered, “V-Victor… you’re back?” She turned to the bewildered guests. “Well, the party is about over. Everyone… please disperse. I’ll… I’ll host you properly another time.” My father stared her down, his voice low and dangerous. “Why the rush? What are you so afraid of?”
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