The day I returned to my birth parents, the fake heiress held a knife to her throat. “I’m a person, not your puppet! Stop controlling me! Do you need me dead to be happy?” she screamed. “Force me into marriage again, and I’ll make you front-page news!” She spun dramatically, pausing near me. “Now that your real daughter’s back, go suck the life out of her!” Furious, my father slammed a leather document on the table: The Beaumont Legacy Agreement. “To be our daughter,” he growled, “sign this lifetime contract.” My hands shook as I read it: I. Tai Chi with Grandpa at 6 AM. Reward: $10,000/session. II. Never speak to unsavory people near parents. Reward: $1M/day. III. Compliment your brother 10 times daily. Reward: $10,000/each. Isabelle laughed from the doorway. “You actually want this puppet life—” I snatched a pen and signed boldly. “Ten compliments? How about a hundred? I’ll even throw some in for Mom, Dad, and Grandpa!” 1 "Are you insane? That's an indenture contract! Once you sign it, you'll never be able to leave the Beaumont family!" Isabelle whirled back around, shocked by my sycophantic tone. "I've already lived twenty years in this suffocating prison," she declared. "And you people won't even spare your own flesh and blood, who just got here? Are you monsters?!" With that, she snatched the papers from my hand and ripped them to shreds with a vicious shrrriiip. My heart sank. Judging by her tortured expression, you’d think her life for the past eighteen years had been worse than mine—and I’d spent them scrounging through trash cans. My father slammed his fist on the table with a deafening crack. My mother looked at Isabelle, her face etched with pain. "You wear Chanel, you're driven in a Rolls-Royce, you dine on foie gras and lobster, and your monthly allowance is five million dollars. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that your life is 'suffocating'." Isabelle rolled her eyes, retorting without a shred of gratitude, "Did I ask for any of that? You forced it all on me. Do you really think I've been happy all these years?" Grandfather struck the marble floor with his cane. "Get out! If you insist on leaving with this gutter rat, then from this day on, the Beaumont family no longer has a daughter named Isabelle!" The "gutter rat" in question, a boy named Leo, clenched his fists, his eyes burning with humiliation. "What's that supposed to mean? You think you're better than me?" My brother let out a cold snort. That only enraged Leo further, but before he could launch into some cliché speech about the poor rising up against the rich, the security guards arrived and began escorting him out. Isabelle threw herself in front of him. "What are you doing? Leo can go wherever he wants! This is a violation of his personal freedom!" "Isabelle, let's go," Leo said, grabbing her arm. "One day, they'll regret what they did today!" As he pulled her away, she made one last appeal to me. "Aren't you coming? Are you really going to sell your freedom for a little bit of dirty money? To become a pawn in their marriage games?" All eyes in the room turned to me. Terrified my new sugar daddies might misunderstand, I immediately declared my allegiance. "Isabelle, you have no idea what you're talking about. This family raised you with everything you could ever want, and you throw it back in their faces. If anyone's suffocating here, it's Mom, Dad, my brother, and Grandpa!" Isabelle trembled with rage, pointing a finger at my nose. "I try to help you, and this is the thanks I get." "Aurora Beaumont! You'll regret not listening to me!" 2 I watched her leave with a blank expression, but inside, I was mourning the one million dollars she'd just torn to pieces. My mother dabbed the corner of her eye and slipped a lustrous jade bracelet from her own wrist. "My dear child," she said softly. "We were just so frightened by Isabelle's behavior. We never truly intended to force you to sign anything." She placed the heavy, cool bracelet on my wrist. "This is a welcome home gift from your mother. Please, keep it." My father waved his hand dismissively and handed me a black card. "Take it. Spend what you want. Just don't end up like that ungrateful brat." My brother produced a stack of property deeds and several sets of luxury car keys. Not to be outdone, Grandfather had the butler bring out a prepared portfolio of stock transfer agreements. I stared at the mountain of wealth in my hands, and my eyes began to well up. They were completely caught off guard by my reaction, and panic flickered across their faces. Mother immediately turned on Father. "This is all your fault! Did you have to shove a contract in her face? Look, you've scared our daughter to tears!" Father shot her a wounded look but wisely kept his mouth shut. My brother asked nervously, "Do you… do you feel suffocated too?" I quickly shook my head, wiping my eyes. "No, it's not Dad's fault. I just… I never imagined you would all be so kind to me…" The tears started falling again. All those years I was lost, I had grown used to fighting. Fighting for a bite of meat. Fighting for a new set of underwear. Fighting for the chance to learn. I had never dreamed that there were things in this world you didn't have to fight for, things your family would simply place in your hands. And Isabelle… she had enjoyed the life that should have been mine for twenty years, and now she had the audacity to claim she had suffered in my place. Fine. Let's just see how long her precious "freedom" lasts. 3 Perhaps because I grew up starved for affection, any small kindness shown to me made me want to repay it tenfold. I decided to use the money I had saved over the years to buy them all gifts. But in my excitement, I accidentally sent a link for an online group buy to the family group chat. Oh, god. They're going to think I'm so tacky. I was about to retract the message, but in the next second, my bank account balance exploded with new zeroes. Grandfather: [My dear granddaughter wants to start a business? Here’s a hundred million to practice with.] The others immediately followed suit, wiring me staggering amounts of money. My jaw dropped. They were definitely my real family. Still, I transferred the money back, trying to explain my embarrassing mistake. That only made them send even more. Mother: [Such a good girl. Definitely our blood. That other one… we raised her for twenty years and never saw a dime back.] She then sent a video. I opened it to see my father, bundled up in his blankets, sobbing his eyes out. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. These were my people. I settled in quickly. I no longer had to worry about where my next meal was coming from or fight with anyone over scraps. I was like a sponge, soaking up all the knowledge my family and the tutors they hired could provide. My only job was to learn. They paved the way for everything else. Mother personally coached me in etiquette and social graces. Father cultivated my taste in the finer things. In just one month, I transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan. Isabelle, who had somehow gotten my number, kept trying to convince me to leave. When she learned that the family was pouring all their resources into my education, she just scoffed. [So naive. You think they're doing this for your own good? They're just fattening you up for slaughter, getting a better price for you on the marriage market!] I ignored her, but the family found out about the messages. Terrified I would misunderstand, Mother called an emergency family meeting. Father tripped over himself to explain. Grandfather was ready to call off the engagement on the spot. My brother insisted that my opinion was the only one that mattered. But I knew this marriage was about more than just me; it was a long-term strategic alliance between two powerful families. More importantly, I trusted my family. They weren't the monsters Isabelle made them out to be. "I'm willing," I said, my voice clear and steady. "I trust Mom and Dad's judgment." My compliance only seemed to deepen their guilt. And as a result, my dowry grew even larger. 4 Before the wedding, my brother took me to a high-end jeweler to add to my dowry. An endless sea of glittering gems was laid out before me, all for the choosing. Even after a month of immersion in this new world, my eyes instinctively darted to the price tags. So. Many. Zeros. The old me couldn't have afforded a single one of these even if I collected plastic bottles for three hundred years. Just then, Isabelle's shrill voice cut through the quiet elegance of the boutique. "What do you mean I can't just take it? I always used to!" The sales associate maintained her professional smile with visible effort. "Miss Beaumont, previously your purchases were billed directly to the Beaumont estate. However, Mr. Beaumont personally called last week to cancel the account." "Your total comes to one hundred and fifty-six thousand dollars. Will that be cash or card?" Isabelle froze. To make matters worse, she was surrounded by the very same socialites she used to compete with. "Well, well, look how the mighty have fallen." "I heard she gave up her position as the Beaumont heiress voluntarily. I bet she's regretting it now." Isabelle's face flushed a deep, humiliated crimson. To save face, she turned to Leo, her voice a desperate whine. "Honey, I haven't been able to dress up at all since I left with you. Won't you buy this for me?" Leo glanced at the price tag, and his face paled. He forced a smile and patted her head. "Sweetheart, you don't need to dress up. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me. These are just useless rocks. They're not worth the price. Only an idiot would buy them!" Isabelle's face fell, a look of confusion in her eyes. "$156,000 is a lot? I never used to look at prices when I shopped." The more she thought about it, the more she wanted it. As if to prove to her old friends that she was still doing just fine, she planted herself in front of the counter and refused to move. Then, she spotted us. Her eyes lit up. "Brother! What are you doing here?" She latched onto his arm, reverting to her old habits. "Brother, they're all laughing at me! I want this! Pay for it!" My brother coolly detached her hand from his arm. "Isabelle, you are no longer my sister. Aurora is my only sister." She stared at him, stunned. She couldn't seem to comprehend that the brother who had doted on her for twenty years could say something so cold. Leo pulled Isabelle to his side. "Ignore him. Who does he think he is with all his money? We don't need him." Isabelle pouted. "But I want it~" Unable to reason with her, Leo pulled out his phone, took a picture of the necklace, and ordered a cheap knock-off from an app. "There. Happy now?" "That's not the same! Forget it, my brother adores me. He'll buy it!" She turned back to my brother. "Brother, I'm being the bigger person and talking to you, and you're still mad? If you keep this up, I'll really disown you! Now, hurry up and pay for this, or I'll never speak to you again!" My brother just laughed. "We've already severed ties. What you want has nothing to do with me." Isabelle glared at him, her face a mask of disbelief. "You're really going to be this cruel? Are you using this to try and force me to come home? Well, I won't give in!" "Think whatever you want." My brother walked past her and turned to me, his voice warm again. "Aurora, if you can't decide, we'll just have the staff pack up all of them." I maintained a graceful smile, but inside I was screaming. AAAAAAAH! THIS IS INSANE! 5 My fiancé, the crown prince of the city's elite circle, Damian Sterling, was a workaholic. His startup had just gone public, and he was so busy he didn't even have time to meet his own wife-to-be. I didn't mind one bit. Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, but he was more than willing to flex his financial muscle. My walk-in closet was overflowing with priceless jewelry, designer clothes, and handbags. I secretly hoped he would work overtime every day. Somehow, news of our unconventional romance leaked and went viral. The internet was buzzing with envy over our "fairytale" love story. Naturally, Isabelle found out. She called me immediately, her voice dripping with pity. "Aurora, this is all my fault. My selfish decision to run away has condemned you to this fate. Don't worry, I will save you!" Her nonsensical declaration left me so baffled that I immediately went online and ordered several spiritual cleansing kits. But she was relentless, haunting me right up until my wedding day. On the day of my wedding, Isabelle was also getting married. I have no idea where she got the money, but she rented a small hall right next to our grand ballroom. Across the corridor, I saw her in a wedding dress that was yellowing with age. I stood in my custom-made haute couture gown. She showed no signs of shame, only looking at me with pity, as if she was certain my life was a living hell. Just as Damian and I were about to exchange rings, she burst into the room, a strange man in tow. "Stop this wedding!" The dreamy music screeched to a halt. All heads turned to her. Isabelle pointed an accusatory finger at my parents. "This wedding is nothing but a business transaction! They are sacrificing their own daughter's happiness for profit!" "They only brought Aurora back because I refused to be their pawn! All they care about is money, not family!" She turned to me, her voice ringing with passion. "Aurora, we women deserve to be free! To marry the person we love!" As she spoke, she managed to squeeze out a few tears for dramatic effect. Our guests were too high-class to gossip openly, but the damage was done. We were a laughingstock. Grandfather clutched his chest, sinking into his chair. My parents' faces were ashen. Before they could speak, Isabelle pushed a red-haired punk in front of me. "You and your boyfriend deserve to be happy together. Don't worry about me. Go, run away and find your true love!" Wait, since when was this guy my boyfriend? I looked at her self-sacrificing expression, as if this pock-faced redhead, who was shorter than me even with lifts in his shoes, was some kind of prize. "Let's go, Aurora," the redhead said, reaching for me with a hand covered in some unidentifiable grime. "I'll take care of you from now on." "Who are you? Do I know you?" I said, desperate to distance myself from him before my billionaire husband got the wrong idea. But Isabelle seemed deaf, lost in her own heroic fantasy. "Aurora, you don't have to pretend to be strong anymore. This is all my fault. I am willing to take your place in this gilded cage!" She ripped the million-dollar pearls from my veil, sending them scattering across the floor like marbles. She snatched the microphone from the officiant. "Everyone here is a witness!" she declared. "Damian Sterling, all you want is the Beaumont family's shipping port shares, right? It doesn't matter who you marry!" She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for a great sacrifice. "Fine, Damian Sterling, you win!" she shouted. "I agree to marry you!"
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