“He’s a wonderful, wonderful man,” she said.
“And his last name is Hughes too. Don’t you think that’s quite a coincidence, sis?”
I ignored her, turned, and got into a taxi.
My phone kept buzzing with message notifications.
The private investigator I’d hired had sent me a series of photos and videos.
Sophia looked strikingly like my father’s old flame.
The investigator suspected she might be his illegitimate daughter.
The pink lilies at the gate were planted by my father and Daniel themselves.
Inside the mansion, all my photos had already been replaced with Sophia’s.
Even three days ago, at the business summit, it was Sophia who went on stage to receive an award on behalf of Lunar Group.
My father, who had never once praised me, stood proudly before everyone and declared:
“My daughter Sophia and Daniel are a perfect match. Five days from now, don’t forget to join us for the wedding banquet!”
Daniel—who had delayed our engagement again and again, claiming he needed to establish himself first—had spent an entire week carving a heart-shaped diamond ring for Sophia.
The entire wedding was planned by him personally, every detail handled with care.
I deleted all of Daniel’s posts from my social media feed and switched off my phone.
My mother was still recovering; I didn’t want her to worry.
Two self-serving men—did they really think they could swap me out under my nose?
Sophia was only a month younger than me.
If she truly was my father’s illegitimate child, that meant he had cheated on my mother while she was pregnant with me.
Her replacing me had clearly been planned all along.
I reopened my phone and searched the account the investigator had given me on TikTok.
My father’s old flame, Isabella Moore, had crafted an online persona as a single mom.
Her videos documented her years of raising her daughter alone.
Though her daughter never appeared on screen, her voice was unmistakably Sophia’s.
Cross-checking carefully, I realized Sophia had been born the very day my mother and I were trapped at an airport by a typhoon.
At the time, my father’s phone had been off the entire day. He hadn’t offered us a single word of comfort.
The millions of dollars missing from the company books—supposedly for business entertainment—had actually been funneled to Isabella, funding her lavish lifestyle and “independent rich woman” persona.
And right after I applied for the overseas assignment, my father had rushed to bring her back while sending my mother away to a rehabilitation center.
Three months ago, Isabella had even posted a video, explaining her daughter might not appear as often anymore.
Sipping on a straw, she’d smirked and said:
“Back then, I thought her dad was useless and couldn’t set a good example for her. But now? I hear he’s made it big in New York, a self-made tycoon. He insisted on bringing her back to live like a princess. He even found her a promising young fiancé. So, I let him take her.”
The comments were filled with envy.
“So lucky! She’s rich on her own, and her ex—abandoned by her sister—climbed his way up to become a tycoon!”
“That girl must have never suffered a day in her life. Her parents raised her so well!”
Ha. I couldn’t help but laugh.
A son-in-law who married into the family—did he really think he was the head of Lunar Group?
Then I scrolled to a video that enraged me even more.
Five days ago, Isabella had streamed a dinner where she said her daughter was about to be engaged. The four of them sat together in a candlelit five-star hotel.
Daniel even appeared in her camera, calling Isabella “Mother-in-law” with a smile.
That same day, my mother had called me.
