Chapter 1
My phone buzzes, shattering the silence. I am mid-presentation at the National Institute of Science. It is my mother.
On the other end of the line, she is a mess, sobbing so hard that her words are just a jumble of panic. "Honey," she finally manages to choke out, "your brother... his fiancée... she called it off!"
I drop everything and speed over to her family's house. The scene in the living room is worse than I imagined. My brother is trapped in the center of the room, looking like he's seen a ghost.
A girl dripping in designer labels is practically poking him in the chest with pure disdain.
"You?" she sneers, letting out a sneer. "Let's be real. I'm the heiress to Sinclair Holdings. My father just sank three hundred million dollars into your little research institute. And you think you're in my league? Get over yourself."
Even her mother chimes in, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.
"Ethan, sweetie," she says, patting the air condescendingly. "Olivia is destined for more. This is just a fantasy. It's best for everyone if you just accept that."
My blood is boiling, and I am about to storm in there and give them a piece of my mind, but the name "Sinclair Holdings" hits me like a ton of bricks.
Sinclair Holdings?
Since when does the husband I get in a marriage of convenience have another kid? We only have one rebellious son, not a secret daughter.
I step back into the hallway, my fingers flying as I dial his number. I plaster on my iciest, sweetest smile.
"Darling," I purr into the phone the moment he picks up. "I'm a little confused. When, exactly, did you find the time to have a secret love child behind my back? And more importantly, why is she trying to torpedo my little brother's engagement?"
*****
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
On the other end of the line, my husband-in-name-only, Charles Sinclair, sounded completely emotionless.
"Grace Foster," he said. "You, of all people, should know whether or not I have a daughter."
His casual tone doused some of my initial anger, but a knot of suspicion tightened in my gut.
Charles and I were a textbook business arrangement. Our prenup was ironclad: we stayed out of each other's lives and only put on a show as the loving couple when absolutely necessary.
The only thing connecting us was our rebellious son, who was away at a boarding school overseas.
For years, we'd maintained a polite distance. You could almost call it peaceful.
Charles was far too shrewd to make a sloppy mistake over something so fundamental.
"You'd better be right," I muttered and hung up.
My eyes fell on the scene in the middle of our living room.
The girl who called herself Olivia Sinclair was decked out in head-to-toe designer brands with flawless makeup. But no amount of polish could hide the sharp, nasty glint in her eyes.
Standing opposite her was my brother, Ethan Foster, swallowed by a faded sweatsuit. His fists were clenched as he pressed his lips into a thin line.
He was a classic scientist, awkward with words and definitely not built for confrontation.
Right now, he looked like a cornered animal, radiating nothing but stubborn defiance.
"What's this? You called for backup?" Olivia snapped.
Her gaze landed on me, dripping with disdain as she looked me up and down.
"First Mom, now big sister? What is this, a family reunion? Are you all just going to come out one by one like clowns from a car?"
The woman beside her, dripping in jewels, was her mother, Lexi Willis, who chimed in instantly.
"Olivia, darling, don't lower yourself to their level. It's beneath you."
She then turned to me, putting on the grand air of the lady of the manor. Her voice was pure condescension.
"Miss, I'm aware of your family's circumstances. An ordinary, working-class family. It's truly commendable that you managed to raise a promising researcher like Ethan.
"But you must know your place. We are the Sinclair family. Olivia was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Your family, well, you're simply not in our league."
She let out a theatrical sigh.
"That 300-million-dollar investment? That was a little gesture from our family, done on Olivia's behalf, to support national research. So I'd advise you not to get any ideas. Annoy the Sinclair family, and we can pull that funding in a heartbeat."
Watching this mother-daughter act, I almost laughed out loud.
How dare they use my own money to threaten my own brother!
You can't make this stuff up. This is so fucking absurd.
My mother, Alisa Foster, too furious to speak, just clutched Ethan's hand as tears streamed down her face.
I stepped forward, placing myself between them and my family.
"Mrs. Sinclair, is it?" I asked coolly as I met her eyes. "Charles Sinclair of Sinclair Holdings is a fairly public figure. It's strange. In all these years, I've never once heard him mention a 'Mrs. Sinclair' or a 'Ms. Olivia Sinclair.'"
The moment the words left my mouth, both of their faces changed.
It was plain to see they hadn't anticipated such a composed and direct challenge.
In their minds, a "poor sister" like me was supposed to grovel at the mention of the Sinclair family and 300 million dollars and then simply crawl back into my hole.
Lexi's shock morphed into fury.
"Who do you think you are? We don't need to report our family affairs to a nobody like you!"