My boyfriend had secretly planned a proposal for me, and the fake heiress tipped me off three days in advance.
I pretended I didn't know a thing.
Three days later, she dragged me to the venue.
I was about to act surprised when my boyfriend dropped to one knee in front of the entire crowd—facing her.
Althea Winfield gasped, hands flying to her mouth.
"Oh, Doreen, I had no idea he was going to propose to me. You two are so close, I just assumed it was for you..."
Solomon Simmons looked down at me, his expression dripping with condescension.
"Doreen Winfield, so what if you're the real daughter? Althea is the one who grew up with me. Let today be a lesson—know your place, and stop coveting what was never yours."
My best friend, Mia Lawson, was shaking with rage beside me.
"You're just going to take that?!"
Yeah. I could.
...
When the diamond ring slid onto Althea's finger, every pair of eyes in the room swiveled toward me, gleaming with mockery.
"She actually thought it was for her. I'm dying."
"If that were me, I'd crawl into a hole and never come out. How humiliating."
"She deserves it. Everyone knows Althea and Solomon are the real couple. She just throws her 'real heiress' card around and tries to steal everything from Althea."
Mia was already lunging forward. I grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
"They're doing this to mess with you on purpose! And you're just going to stand there?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
I watched Solomon pull Althea into his arms, his lips curling into a smirk aimed squarely at me.
All I felt was relief.
This whole deranged circus of a family—I was finally done performing.
Three years ago, on my first day at Winfield Corp, Kevin Winfield's eyes had gone red the moment he saw me.
"Doreen, after all this time, you've finally come home."
"You stormed off after that fight with Althea, and she's been blaming herself ever since."
I explained, over and over.
My name wasn't Doreen Winfield. It was Sybilla Sawyer. It was right there on my employment contract.
But they stared at my face with deadly seriousness.
"You're home now, so stop with the games. A fake name? Really? Are you trying to cut ties with the Winfield family? Or do we have to send Althea away before you'll be satisfied? She's lived with this family for over twenty years. Sending her away would be no different from abandoning her!"
That was when I learned the truth. This family had a real daughter and a fake one.
After the real daughter was brought home, she couldn't stand how the family bent over backward for the adopted one. Even her childhood fiancé refused to take her side. Three years ago, she'd blown up at her family and walked out.
No one had heard from her since.
And apparently, I looked exactly like her.
Solomon had stepped in front of Althea, shielding her.
"During the three years you pulled your disappearing act, Althea was worried sick about you. She thought everything was her fault. She nearly fell into depression. As long as you stop causing trouble, I'll honor our engagement. But the condition is this—you leave Althea alone."
I had no interest in getting tangled up in this family's mess. I tried to resign on the spot.
Solomon chased me down. He tossed me a bank card loaded with two hundred thousand dollars.
"Are you trying to push Althea over the edge again? Stay. You'll get one of these every month."
Who would say no to that?
So I played the part of the Winfield family's real daughter.
I kept a low profile, stayed out of sight, and collected my paycheck on time.
But Althea always found new ways to frame me. One day she'd throw herself down a staircase; the next she'd slip an allergen into her own food.
The security footage showed everything. Not a single person chose to believe me.
Two hundred thousand a month—at that point, it felt more like compensation for emotional damages.
Now the charade was over.
And I could finally quit.
In front of everyone, I walked up to the happy couple.
