Chapter 1

I was the long-lost heiress who just got home, and now the system wanted me to start some serious drama.

My birth mom clung to Leila Shaw, the girl who'd grown up in my place. "You're our blood, but Leila has been our daughter for eighteen years. We can't just let her go."

The system yelled, "Now! Flip the table. Scream about favoritism."

I just nodded. "Makes sense to me. If it were me, I'd pick 18 years of feelings over blood ties too. Blood's just biology, but feelings? That's real sunk cost."

Mom was stunned.

My fiance, Nathan Cooper, slapped a check in my face. "Take it and get lost. I don't do charity cases from the countryside."

The system screamed, "Rip up the check! Shout 'don't underestimate the poor'."

I just pocketed the check. "Honestly, this is fair. Forcing a relationship never works, and he even gave me a breakup fee. That's pretty generous."

Nathan was totally dumbfounded.

The system was freaking out. "Host, come on, just go a little crazy. The story can't move forward like this!"

I said, "I'm the normal one here. You guys are the real drama queens."

*****

Though Shaw Manor's living room was chilled by the AC, the air still carried the unmistakable, practiced scent of injured innocence.

Beverly Shaw, my birth mom, was clutching Leila, the girl who'd grown up there in my place.

Leila was sobbing like she was in a soap opera, her shoulders trembling like she might pass out any second.

Beverly patted her back, shooting me a look that was a mix of guilt, regret, and something else I couldn't quite place.

"Claire, even though you're our real daughter, Leila's been with us for 18 years. You don't just throw away a bond like that overnight," Beverly said.

"We can't just let her go. I hope you understand why I have to do this," she added.

Harold Shaw, my birth father, standing off to the side, just sighed with his hands behind his back, silently going along with it.

And then, right on cue, the system in my head went off like an alarm.

It said, "Host, don't just stand there. Confront them—your clueless parents. Flip that table. Scream that blood means everything. You're their only real daughter!"

It was blaring in my head, giving me a headache.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of my parents' and Leila's anxious stares, and nodded.

"Honestly, I totally understand," I said.

Leila's sobs stopped dead, her tear-stained lashes quivering in shock. She clearly hadn't expected that.

Beverly was stunned too. "You... you're not angry with me?"

I settled into a nearby armchair, casual, like I was discussing weekend plans.

"Makes sense to me. If it were me, I'd pick 18 years of feelings over blood ties too. Blood's just biology, but feelings? That's real sunk cost," I said.

I pointed at Leila's designer dress, then at my own thrift store clothes.

"You've invested 18 years of money, time, and care into her. It's like leveling up a premium account to max—and now you're supposed to toss it and start fresh with a basic one? Of course you'd hesitate. That's just basic resource management. I really do get it," I said.

The living room fell completely silent.

Beverly looked like she'd just swallowed a fly, wanting to explain herself but totally thrown by my reasoning.

The system was screeching in my head, "Host, what kind of twisted logic is that? Your job is to win their affection. To make them see the light!"

I just ignored it and turned to Leila, keeping my voice genuinely sincere. "Go ahead and cry. Don't mind me. Think of me as an intern. Still learning the ropes around here—this family, I mean."