Chapter 3

"Ah!" Edith screamed, jumping to her feet.

Linda jumped up, too, jabbing a finger at me. She was so mad that she was practically speechless.

She shouted, "You bitch! You totally did that on purpose. Scheming at such a young age? Clearly, your family didn't teach you any manners!"

Wait, did she just insult herself, too?

I flinched in fright, and the glass slipped from my hand, falling onto the carpet.

"I swear I didn't do it on purpose! I just got too worked up, and my hand slipped," I blurted out.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I fumbled for a napkin, trying to help Edith wipe it up.

"Edith, I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad. Getting mad isn't good for you," I pleaded, my voice full of worry.

Edith gave me a hard shove, and I staggered back several steps, bumping into a chair.

She couldn't fake it anymore. Her eyes burned with hatred, and she didn't even bother to hide it.

"Serena, you damn bitch! You're just jealous of me and can't stand to see me happy. Humph. I don't need a sister like you," Edith sneered.

I was so caught off guard by Edith's shove that I landed on the floor with a thud, looking up with tears streaming down my face. I looked completely wronged and helpless.

"Edith, you've got it all wrong. I didn't... I swear I didn't..." I sobbed, my voice cracking with desperation.

I was putting on my best act yet, milking every ounce of sympathy I could.

Richard, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly set down his fork and knife.

He picked up his phone, tapped a few times, and then turned the screen toward Edith and Linda. It was the post I had just posted.

Richard's voice was icy as he asked, "Did you take that bottle of 1982 Lafite from my study?"

That bottle was a vintage Richard had been saving for years, meant to be opened on his wedding anniversary.

Edith's face went ghostly pale in an instant.

Linda's jaw dropped as she stared at Edith, totally stunned.

"Edith, you..." Linda murmured.

Edith was flustered, stumbling over her words. "I... I didn't know... I thought it was just some regular wine. Dad, I'm sorry..."

"That's not the real issue," Richard interrupted coldly, his gaze piercing. "The problem is you used my things to flaunt yourself and tried to frame your own sister."

He stood up and ordered, "Serena, head back to your room. Edith, come with me to the study."

Edith wobbled, barely able to stand.

I got up timidly from the floor and said softly, "Dad, Edith didn't mean it. Please don't punish her."

Richard looked at me, his eyes unreadable. "Go back to your room."

I obediently nodded and walked away in tiny steps, glancing back at him every few steps.

Back in my room, I locked the door, grabbed my other phone, and opened up a livestream app.

The livestreamer, Gossip King, was on fire, practically spitting with excitement.

He said, "Guys, hot scoop! The Moore family's real and fake heiresses' first battle just happened, and the fake heiress got totally owned. She tried to flex with her dad's vintage wine, but got exposed right then and there."

The livestream was showing a carefully chosen angle from the restaurant's security cam, catching Edith's smug grin and the whole scene of my "slip".

The chat was going absolutely wild.

Netizens: [LOL, the real heiress is something else. She's playing dirty right back.]

[Look at the fake heiress's acting. Up against the real deal, she's straight up preschool level, not even close.]

[I bet the real heiress dropped this footage herself.]

I watched the chat explode and grinned, totally satisfied.

Damn right. The security cam livestream link? I sent it to Gossip King, all anonymous.

Edith wanted to stir up drama? Fine, I was ready to go big or go home.

I was gonna make sure everyone saw the real Edith hiding behind that sweet, innocent mask.

For the next few days, Edith went totally quiet.

She locked herself in her room, hardly ever showing up for meals.

The way Linda looked at me changed from just hating me to this complicated mix of fear and bitterness.

Richard was still as icy as ever. He didn't treat me differently.

But I was damn sure that Edith would not just give up.

Sure enough, a week later, the Moore family was hosting a massive charity gala, with all kinds of big shots on the guest list.

This was my first real debut as the legit Moore heiress, and for Edith, it was her best shot at making a comeback.

The day before the gala, Edith personally showed up at my door and knocked.

"Hey, Serena, the gala's tomorrow. Got your dress ready yet?" she asked.

I opened the door. She flashed me that sweet, innocent smile. I pretended to be all flustered and grateful. Then I murmured, "Thanks for caring, Edith. But... I don't actually have a dress."

"Don't worry. I've got you a dress," Edith said, waving the maid over with a dress box. "I picked this out just for you. Try it on and see if it fits."

I opened the box and found a champagne-colored strapless gown. The design was super extra, with gems plastered all over it.

I put on my best grateful face and said, "Wow, it's beautiful! Edith, this is way too fancy. I really shouldn't take it."

But that was not what I was thinking. Beautiful, my ass. What kind of taste was this? Even the characters in those poor dramas had better style. It couldn't be worse.

"Silly girl, we're sisters. No need to be so formal," Edith said, giving my hand a friendly squeeze. "Go on, try it. It's custom-made by a top foreign designer, and there's only one like it in the world."

After a bit of fake hesitation, I let her put it in my hands.