The annual Vance Gala was the event of the decade.
Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in warm, golden light. A sea of black tuxedos and designer gowns parted as Eleanor Vance took the center floor.
To her right stood Chloe, draped in silver sequins, wearing the Vance diamond tiara like she had been born for it.
In the shadows, holding a serving tray, stood Maya in her stiff, gray, short-sleeved uniform.
The room fell dead silent.
“My empire goes to my true daughter,” Eleanor’s voice echoed, cold and absolute.
Chloe stepped forward with a sweet, camera-ready smile. She gently touched Eleanor’s arm. “Thank you, mother.”
Eleanor’s head snapped toward her. Her eyes were ice.
“Not you.”
Chloe’s smile vanished.
Eleanor turned, her diamond-ringed hand cutting through the air, pointing straight at the edges of the room. Straight at the maid.
“Her.”
The tray slipped from Maya’s hands. Glass shattered against marble. The weight of a lifetime of poverty, grief, and isolation crashed into her all at once. Her face twisted in disbelief as she burst into uncontrollable sobs, burying her face into Eleanor’s shoulder as the billionaire pulled her into a fierce, desperate embrace.
The crowd gasped.
Chloe froze, her jaw dropping in sheer horror.
“What are you doing?!” Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking in frantic panic. “Then who am I?!”
Eleanor pulled away from Maya. She didn’t look at Chloe with a mother’s pity. She looked at her with pure venom.
Slowly, Eleanor raised a thick, unmarked brown envelope.
“You are a fraud.”
Eleanor’s words were deliberate. Lethal.
“You discovered the hospital’s mistake five years ago. You paid off the doctors. You deliberately hired my real flesh and blood just to watch her scrub your floors.”
Eleanor thrust the envelope toward her.
“And here is the DNA to prove it.”
She didn’t blink.
“Guards. Lock the doors.”