My mother, Eleanor, dropped a bomb in the family group chat: she was bringing home a foster daughter. This girl, Isabelle, claimed to be a brilliant, underprivileged student recommended by a prestigious charity foundation. What she didn’t know was that my entire family could now hear my innermost thoughts. So, as Isabelle tried everything she could to win over my father, I stood by, thinking to myself: If Dad knew she was actually Mom’s illegitimate daughter with her secret lover, he’d probably have a heart attack. 1 In my past life, after Isabelle came to live with us, my family showered her with affection. Me? I was assaulted by thugs she hired and left to die in a corporate parking garage. Only in my final moments did the truth dawn on me: she was the daughter of my mother and her long-time lover. My mother, Eleanor, would never have married my father if he hadn't been a self-made man who founded the Sterling Group from nothing. After their wedding, her single-minded obsession became seizing the family fortune and leaving my father with nothing. Everything was going according to her plan. But then, I was reborn. I woke up on the exact day my mother brought Isabelle home. “From now on, Isabelle is your little sister. You need to take good care of her, alright?” Mom said, a warm smile plastered on her face. Isabelle hid behind her, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, the very picture of pitiable innocence. It was this same damsel-in-distress act that had wrapped my entire family around her little finger in my last life. My father’s face softened into a kind smile as he saw her, and he reached out to draw her closer. I sneered internally. Heh. My mother’s daughter with her secret lover. If Dad knew, I wonder if he’d just have a heart attack on the spot? My father’s hand froze in mid-air. He glanced around the living room, as if searching for the source of the voice. The house staff were all in the kitchen preparing dinner. It was just the four of us. Finally, his gaze landed on me. “Claire? Was that you who just spoke?” Seeing my blank, confused expression, he started to reach for Isabelle again. I thought silently, If he knew the truth, he would flip this house upside down. He snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. In my previous life, my father had doted on Isabelle. He never imagined that his affection would be the very thing that destroyed our entire family. Seeing my father retract his hand, Isabelle’s face immediately crumpled into a mask of hurt. Tears welled in her eyes as she tugged on my mother’s sleeve. “Aunt Eleanor,” she whispered, “does… does Uncle not like me?” My mother stroked her hair, her voice dripping with sympathy. “Don’t be silly. Now that you’re here, you’re my own daughter. You’re part of this family. Don’t you worry.” With that, she ordered the housekeeper to prepare a guest room. “Aunt Eleanor, that room is so beautiful,” Isabelle said, pointing toward the second floor. She was pointing at my suite—the entire floor was mine, complete with a terrace filled with my favorite roses. In the May air, they were in full, glorious bloom, their fragrance filling the house. My mother nodded, then turned to me. “Isabelle grew up in an orphanage. You’re the older sister, Claire. You should let her have it.” I didn’t say a word, but I couldn’t stop the sarcastic thought from bubbling up. So that’s why Mom’s been ignoring me lately. She was too busy taking care of my new “sister.” My mother couldn’t hear my thoughts, but my father heard every single word. His face darkened. He stopped the housekeeper, who was already heading upstairs. “That is Claire’s suite. Who gave you permission to make decisions for her?” “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sterling! I just thought the room was beautiful, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” Isabelle was quick on her feet, immediately playing the part of the contrite victim. Before I could even speak, she had launched into a one-woman drama. This was her signature move. In my past life, it made my father pity her, while I was chastised for being selfish for not wanting to give up my own room. Isabelle sobbed. “Please don’t be angry, Uncle. It’s my fault. I grew up in an orphanage, I’ve just… I’ve never seen such a beautiful room before…” Watching her, a wave of familiar frustration washed over me. Here we go again. Dad’s going to get angry with me. I guess I should just give it to her. But… he’s the one who designed that room just for me. My father looked at me, a flicker of pain in his eyes. He remembered. The room was his gift for my thirteenth birthday, a custom design he’d commissioned himself. Back then, the company was just starting out, and he was drowning in stress, his brow constantly furrowed with worry. I had learned to bake a cake just to surprise him and see him smile. He was remembering that. 2 “Who are you, a stranger, to claim my daughter’s suite? That room belongs to Claire,” my father said, his voice ice. He then instructed the butler to clear out the storage room in the basement for her. Isabelle was stunned, clearly not expecting this turn of events. She bit her lip, fresh tears welling up instantly. Grew up in an orphanage? I scoffed internally. The moment my mother got her hands on the first investment return from my father’s startup, she bought Isabelle an entire wardrobe of luxury goods. Her old flame was in some kind of trouble, which is the only reason Mom brought her here—to push us all out. She had told my father I was too introverted and needed a sister for company. In reality, it was all a meticulously crafted plan to drive my family out and seize control of the Sterling Group. My father was a workaholic, obsessed with growing the company. He was completely blind to it. But this time, I was here to ruin her perfect plan. My mother grew anxious and grabbed my father’s arm. “Darling, Isabelle has had no one to care for her. It’s only natural she’d want a nice place to live. Why are you so upset?” Just then, he heard my voice in his head again. Mom’s old flame has a lot of connections in the city. It wouldn’t be smart to have a full-blown confrontation right now. My father visibly suppressed his anger, turning to take my hand and lead me away. Mom started to say something but stopped herself. Dad was rarely home, so this was her prime opportunity to have Isabelle charm him. But my father’s patience was gone, his mind now a storm of suspicion. My mother and Isabelle exchanged a look, probably wondering how my straightforward, unsuspecting father had suddenly become so sharp. Inside his study, my father pulled me close, his expression serious. “Claire, what’s wrong?” “Huh?” I feigned ignorance, but my mind was racing. Don’t tell me he’s starting to believe them? Well, he fell for their act completely in the last life. It led to the ruin of our entire family. His expression grew even darker, a hint of fury now coloring his features. He stood up, ready to confront my mother, but I quickly grabbed his hand. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Instead, my thoughts did the talking. No, I can't let him confront her now. If they get desperate, who knows what they'll do? I need him to find hard evidence on her old flame first. Something concrete. My father paused. He looked at me for a long moment, then patted my shoulder and left the room. Just like in my last life, Isabelle acted impeccably behaved and diligent after moving in. She practically tripped over herself to do chores, quickly winning over the household staff. She stood respectfully by my mother’s side, looking at me with a face full of envy as she spoke to my father. “Claire is so lucky. Unlike me… I only know how to do simple things like serve coffee.” The cup in my hand trembled, and I pulled back as if shocked, lowering my head. It’s all my fault. But if I started doing the butler’s job, what would we be paying him for? I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. It’s my fault. I… I won’t drink this coffee.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father glaring at Isabelle, his face a mask of stone. Isabelle, however, thought my father was impressed with her humility and lowered her head shyly. I hid a cold smile. She sidled up to my father. “Uncle, please don’t blame Claire. She’s had people waiting on her since she was a little girl…” “That’s enough!” My father finally snapped. He slammed his coffee cup down on the table, making Isabelle jump. “Un-Uncle… please don’t be angry. Claire just…” Even now, she had no idea why he was furious, still thinking he was about to defend her. On the surface, she was putting on a show, but inside, she was probably thrilled. My father shot her a glacial look. “I don’t care what games you’re playing, but now that you’re here, you will behave yourself. Stop the theatrics.” He threw a glare at my mother, then turned and stormed out. Isabelle’s eyes were wide with bewilderment. Once my father was gone, my mother anxiously pulled Isabelle aside, whispering urgently. “What happened? You told me he was an oblivious workaholic who wouldn’t suspect a thing!” My mother was just as confused. My father had always been gentle and easygoing with her, at least until Isabelle arrived. She racked her brain and concluded that he must be having trouble at the office. “It’s fine. As long as you’re in this house, you’ll have your chances. The most important thing now is to deal with Claire. The Sterlings have arranged a marriage for her with the Crestwood family—they’re the wealthiest family in the city. All we need to do is ruin her reputation.” “Then you can take her place. The Sterling Group will be ours.” Crestwood Industries was the pinnacle of high society. Becoming the young mistress of the Crestwood family meant unlimited wealth and status. As my mother spoke, a greedy light shone in her eyes. Isabelle’s mouth hung open, her gaze distant, as if she could already see herself as Mrs. Crestwood. She nodded vigorously. In my past life, I was so sheltered that I never suspected my sudden “sister.” I not only deferred to her in everything but also covered for her mistakes. Under my mother’s constant persuasion, I truly came to see her as my own flesh and blood. But they were vipers. They destroyed my family, killed the man I loved, and ultimately consumed the entire Sterling Group. Watching her lost in her fantasy, my nails dug unconsciously into my palms. Did she really think this life would be just as easy? 3 My 24th birthday was in a few days. My father had booked the penthouse suite at the city’s most luxurious five-star hotel for a lavish party, inviting a host of business tycoons and socialites. Isabelle had been remarkably quiet lately, no longer trying to get my father’s attention. She had clearly sensed his coldness and decided to stop wasting her time. David Crestwood was my childhood friend. We grew up together, and we were in love. He founded his own company right after graduation, promising to give me the world. But in my past life, Isabelle drugged my drink at this very party, causing me to be dishonored. The scandal ultimately led David to die of a broken heart. Seeing him again now, I could barely hold back the tears. Before I could pull myself together, Isabelle had already pushed her way to his side. Her eyes raked over him with an aggressive gleam. “You must be Mr. Crestwood. I’ve heard so much about your success. It’s an honor to finally meet such a prodigy.” This was how she’d approached him last time, too. David, like me, was young and innocent, unversed in the world’s darker games. While he had been dismissive of her in our past life, he never truly saw her as a threat. But Isabelle was relentless, and her unrequited love eventually twisted into a vengeful hatred that destroyed him. I remained silent, but my thoughts were a frantic storm: Oh no, she’s starting already. David is so guileless. What if he falls for her tricks? I could feel David’s gaze fixed on me. He frowned slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Isabelle has been targeting me from the start. Mom treats her like her real daughter and ignores me completely. What am I supposed to do? If only David knew she was the reason we both died in our past life. He would lose his mind. David’s expression turned to ice. Isabelle, completely oblivious, prattled on. “Mr. Crestwood, I read your company’s project proposal. It’s absolutely brilliant. I love studying financial projects. I’ve heard, however, that Claire isn’t very interested in such things…” Before she could finish, David roughly shoved her away. “Get lost!” This was a side of David I had never seen. He was always so gentle and polite. This was the first time I had ever seen him truly angry. He had pushed her so hard that she stumbled and fell to the floor. Isabelle’s face flushed a deep crimson, but she didn’t dare say a word. She scrambled back to her feet, tears in her eyes, a perfect picture of wounded grace. “I don’t know what Claire might have said to you, Mr. Crestwood, for you to treat me this way.” Her words drew the attention of the surrounding guests. “Isn’t that the foster daughter the Sterlings took in from an orphanage?” “Yes, I heard it was a very small, poor one. The poor girl.” “Right? And the Sterling heiress seems so petty.” Isabelle listened to the murmurs with satisfaction, hoping David would see her in a new, more favorable light. No wonder everyone hates me. I should just leave. I lowered my head, about to turn away. David quickly stepped forward and grabbed my hand. Then, he turned to Isabelle, his voice stern. “Stay away from me. And for the record, I don’t recall Claire having a sister. Don’t go around claiming relationships that don’t exist.” Seeing her plan about to implode, Isabelle’s eyes darted around frantically, finally landing on the gift box in David’s hand. “Mr. Crestwood, is that for Claire? It looks so expensive. Claire’s jewelry box is filled with pieces I’ve never even seen before. If only I could have something so beautiful.” I had to admit, Isabelle’s acting was Oscar-worthy. Her ability to play the victim was second to none. No wonder she insisted on dressing so plainly today, not wearing a single piece of the clothing or jewelry my mother had bought her. She had even told my father, “Today is Claire’s birthday party. I shouldn’t steal her thunder.” It was so convincing it made my father question if he was hearing things correctly. Hah. So that was her plan. Dressing like that was just to make everyone think she was being mistreated. I let out a silent, cold laugh and began my inner monologue. Is she complaining that we treat her poorly? The moment she arrived, Mom took her on a shopping spree at the international plaza. She bought her five complete designer outfits, each worth six figures. I’ve never gotten that kind of treatment. Mom is just so good to her. Isabelle was still weaving her sob story. “In the dead of winter, I used to scavenge for bread people threw away outside the orphanage. I had only one set of clothes for the whole year. Sometimes, when I was hungry, I had to drink tap water to fill my stomach.” Too bad she couldn't see it. My father’s face was now as black as the bottom of a pot.
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