

Chapter 1 of Discarded Bride, Hidden Tycoon
The marriage uniting the Pruitt and Gilbert dynasties had the whole city watching.
I stood there in my couture gown, exchanging rings with Alex Gilbert.
Then a girl in plain clothes, her long hair loose, burst into the hall and announced that she was the Pruitts' real daughter.
"I'm sorry… but I'm the true eldest daughter of the Pruitt family. My name is Irma Finch."
"Twenty years ago, the hospital mixed up two babies, and that's how I, the Pruitts' real daughter, ended up lost in the mountains for twenty years."
Under the stunned stares of every guest in the room, her eyes rimmed red, she produced a DNA paternity test.
My parents rushed to her side at once, holding her up, their eyes brimming with tears of pity.
My fiancé turned to me with the air of a man doing the righteous thing.
"Ida, since the childhood arranged marriage was meant to be with the Pruitt heiress, I can't marry you."
"But since you aren't the Pruitts' daughter, you'll return all the shares and assets in your name to her."
With that, he turned and handed the ring he'd been about to slide onto my finger to Irma Finch.
Looking at the certainty in my fiancé's eyes, I smiled.
If I hadn't noticed that the paternity test was dated ten days ago, I might actually have believed they were all innocent.
A man whose heart has turned is nothing but last night's leftovers. You dump them in the trash. You don't keep them around to make yourself sick.
After all, I, Ida Pruitt, have never been short of men, and certainly never short of money.
——
In the lavish banquet hall of Cloudpeak Manor, everyone stared at this melodrama unfolding before them, jaws slack.
In her plain white dress, her face meek, Irma Finch clung tightly to my mother's arm, her eyes red as she spoke.
"Mom, Dad, I only found out when I gave blood that my type didn't match my foster parents'. They went to the hospital to check, and that's when we learned the babies had been switched."
"Mom, Dad, I suffered and toiled in the countryside for a full twenty years. The one who should have had silk and luxury and an elite education was me. The one who should have married Mr. Gilbert was me, too."
My parents exchanged a bewildered glance, then looked in disbelief at the paternity test held out before them.
"Child, are you sure you haven't made a mistake…"
Before my father could finish, a woman who looked every bit a village wife darted forward.
"Rose Fernandez, don't you remember me? We shared a hospital room. We really did switch the babies. Your daughter has a red birthmark on the back of her hand. Did you forget?"
As she spoke, she yanked up Irma Finch's sleeve and bared her wrist.
"See this birthmark for yourself. Could I ever give birth to a girl this pretty? She's the spitting image of you."
My mother stared at the red mark, frozen for a moment, and then her eyes finally welled up.
She pulled Irma Finch into a fierce embrace, her face full of guilt and heartache.
"My child, you really are my daughter. You poor thing. Twenty years of hardship. Your father and I have wronged you."
My father, his own eyes red, gathered Irma Finch into his arms as well.
A murmur slowly rose through the hall.
"This is the Pruitts' real daughter? Switched with Miss Pruitt by some twist of fate?"
"Do you even need to ask? Look at the girl. Isn't she the spitting image of Mrs. Pruitt in her youth?"
"So how is Miss Pruitt supposed to run Pruitt Group after this?"
Eyes met other eyes all across the room.
After all, I wasn't just blessed with looks. I was exceptionally capable, and even in my youth I'd shown a startling gift for business.
From the moment I graduated college, I led my own team to develop three patents, and personally maneuvered through a crowd of seasoned old foxes to land the permanent partnership agreement with the Four Great Families.
Single-handedly, I raised the third-rate Pruitt Group to the very top of the industry.
The family elders who knew the inside story all knew I was a business prodigy the likes of which came along once in a century. Yet I always stayed humble and low-key, giving every bit of the credit to my father, saying it was all the result of his careful guidance, that I was merely following behind him and learning.

















