Chapter 2

I looked out, and sure enough, a black Bentley was idling in the driveway.

The door swung open and out hurried my so-called real dad, Richard Carter, looking every bit the flustered, wealthy man.

Vanessa froze in her tracks.

Her friends' eyes lit up, their expressions practically screaming, "We've got backup!"

"Hey, slum girl," one of them said, crossing her arms and smirking at me. "You're screwed. Mr. Carter adores Vanessa. Just wait till he finds out what you put Vanessa through."

I arched an eyebrow, not bothering to agree or disagree, when my dad came rushing over.

"Sweetheart!" he called out, sounding all pitiful and dramatic.

He looked like he was about to throw himself at me, but then he caught sight of the awkward tension hanging in the room.

He froze mid-step, frowning. "What happened here?"

I didn't even get a chance to open my mouth. Vanessa's fan club erupted into a chorus of whines and accusations, tripping over each other to tattle.

"Mr. Carter, you've got to stand up for Vanessa," one of them cried, their voices full of drama.

"Emily is just way out of line! She's always picking on Vanessa. Oh, my poor Vanessa."

"That's right. Mr. Carter, you remember all those days with Vanessa, no? You can't just let this happen."

They went on and on, laying it on thick, until Vanessa finally stepped in, pretending to be all sweet and innocent.

"Please, stop," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at Richard. "Dad, it's not Emily's fault. I know she doesn't mean it..."

Then she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth like she'd committed a crime. She shot me a look of pure, manufactured terror.

"Oh, Emily, I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I forgot you said I'm not allowed to call him 'Dad' anymore. It was an accident, I promise."

Then she turned to Richard, barely holding back tears.

She said, "Dad—no, Mr. Carter, now that Emily's back, I'll give it all back—the house, you, everything.

"And since my presence bothers her so much, I'll just go."

With that, she covered her face and started up the stairs, sobbing dramatically.

But she moved so slowly. Clearly, it was a performance meant to be watched.

Finally, Richard snapped out of it.

He frowned at Vanessa, pressing her, "Are you saying Emily wanted you to go?"

Vanessa bit her quivering lip and gave a tiny, helpless nod.

Then she added, "But I don't blame her. Not at all! She's just... jealous that I'm smarter, more refined, and that you love me more. I understand, really."

Despite her words, she kept crying badly.

The whole place reeked of her fake innocence.

I just stood there with my arms crossed, watching it all go down with a cold detachment.

Part of me was braced for the classic cliché: the clueless dad completely snowed by the imposter, ready to turn on his real daughter in a heartbeat. I was already mentally preparing my scathing rebuttal.

But then, Richard suddenly slammed his hand on the table and glared at the stunned butler and maid.

"What are you waiting for?" he snapped, voice icy. "Didn't you hear Emily? She wanted Vanessa to leave. Move and pack up for Vanessa."

The fake, sweet expression on Vanessa's face instantly solidified into a mask of shock.

Her posse's smug smirks vanished, replaced by pure, unadulterated disbelief.

Even the staff was speechless for a second. And one of them blurted out, "Mr. Carter, do you really want Miss Carter to leave?"

Vanessa snapped out of her daze, forcing a fresh wave of tears and turning her most pitiful look on Richard.

He just scoffed, utterly unmoved, "What are you even talking about? 'Miss Carter'? My daughter stays with me."