I was the fake heiress, blessed with stunning beauty, pursued by countless wealthy heirs. She was the true heiress, cursed with an unattractive face, treated like a plague by the man she loved. When she was reborn, she finally got her wish—stealing my identity and flaunting her newfound beauty arrogantly. But little did she know, a life built on beauty alone is a life in hell. “According to the will of Mr. and Mrs. Grant, all of their assets are to be inherited solely by Chloe Grant,” the lawyer announced, his words sending shockwaves through the room. “What?! They left everything to the adopted daughter? The Grants must have been out of their minds!” I listened to their gossip with a cold expression. I am Chloe, the adopted daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Grant. The contents of the will didn’t surprise me—I’d already known about it the night before their tragic accident. I glanced at my “sister,” the biological daughter of the Grants, standing beside the pastor and sobbing uncontrollably. Her red, swollen eyes were fixed on me, blazing with hatred. I knew that at this moment, her resentment toward me had reached its peak. After the funeral, she asked me to meet in a quiet place to talk. I didn’t refuse. “Chloe, now that Mom and Dad are gone, it’s just the two of us. We need to stick together,” said Eliza Grant, her voice trembling. She stood there with her hands behind her back, her bloodshot eyes devoid of warmth. Though she was the same age as me, she looked far older—her skin coarse, her hair streaked with gray. She forced an awkward smile and stretched out her arms. “Come here, Chloe. Give me a hug, won’t you?” We were never close, but seeing her like this, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity. Just as I began to lift my arms to embrace her, a sharp blade pressed against my neck. “You bitch! Do you think I’d ever want to play the role of a loving sister? The only reason I humored you was to get close enough to kill you!” she snarled, her eyes wild. She pressed the cold blade against my skin, her twisted smile growing wider. “You’ve gotten so much in this life just because of that face of yours. Let’s see how far you get without it.” The knife slashed across my cheek and cheekbone, leaving deep, bloody gashes. I staggered back, clutching my face, staring at her in horror. She reveled in my pain, gripping the bloodstained knife as she slowly approached me. “Everyone always called you a goddess, didn’t they? Well, let’s see how you like going to hell with that hideous face of yours!” She shoved me against the wall, pinning me in place as the blade plunged into my abdomen. I felt the hot rush of blood pouring from my ruptured artery, spraying uncontrollably like a broken faucet. My body grew colder by the second, and a heavy drowsiness pressed down on my eyelids. In my final moments of consciousness, I saw her face—a mask of madness and triumph.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in an unfamiliar room. “Eliza, did you have a nightmare?” The voice came from a woman sitting beside me—her face familiar. It was the face of my birth mother, the one I’d barely had time to reunite with in my past life before Eliza drove her out of Cedar City, leaving her to disappear without a trace. I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the reflection in her pupils. What I saw wasn’t me. It was Eliza Grant. I had been reborn, but this time, I was in Eliza’s body—the true daughter of the Grants. As memories of my past life flooded back, my chest tightened. I thought of the way the Grant family had “cared” for me, and I thought of the love my birth mother, Sarah Monroe, had for her daughter despite everything. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I threw myself into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “Mom!” “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is school stressing you out?” she asked, her voice full of concern. “No, Mom, I’m fine. I’m just tired… Can you make me some of your wontons?” Sarah was startled by my sudden request but nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Of course, honey. If that’s what you want, I’ll make you all the wontons you can eat.” She stroked my head gently before heading to the kitchen. I followed her, watching as she rolled out dough and prepared the filling. She glanced back at me, puzzled. “Eliza, is there something you need to tell me? Is something going on at school?” “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to watch you make wontons,” I replied with a smile. Her hands paused, and she turned away to wipe her eyes. When she turned back, her smile was full of love. In my previous life, Eliza had spent her early years desperately trying to prove herself, fueled by a desire to rise above the people who mocked her appearance. She studied relentlessly, not for the love of learning, but for the power to crush anyone who looked down on her. But after being welcomed back into the Grant family as their biological daughter, she began to despise Sarah, her birth mother, for being poor and uneducated. She never visited her, not even once. Worse, she paid people to vandalize Sarah’s fruit stand, forcing her to leave the city she’d called home her entire life. Eliza never realized that the unconditional love she rejected was the very thing I had always longed for. As I wiped away my tears and savored the wontons Sarah had made for me, a plan began to form in my mind. This time, no one would control my fate.
The next day, I arrived at school to find a crowd gathered outside the classroom. Sitting at my desk, one leg crossed over the other, was Chloe. “Eliza Monroe, get over here,” she called out. The moment she spoke, the onlookers scattered like frightened sheep, clearing a path for me. Chloe’s eyes swept over me with disdain before she pinched her nose dramatically. “Ugh, you reek of poverty. And that face—absolutely revolting.” “Maybe you should watch your mouth,” I said calmly. In my past life, I knew she was obsessed with appearances, especially when it came to comparing herself to me. But I hadn’t expected her jealousy to twist her into this hateful version of herself. “You think you’re worthy of speaking to me, Eliza?” she sneered before slapping me hard across the face. The sting caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily stunned. But when she raised her hand to hit me again, I caught her wrist mid-swing. Without hesitation, I flipped her over my shoulder, slamming her onto the floor. A collective gasp erupted from the crowd. “She really just fought back against Chloe?” someone whispered in disbelief. “She’s done for… totally done for…” “Shh! Keep your voice down, or she’ll hear you!” Though the whispers were hushed, Chloe and I could hear them clearly. Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Chloe, have you had enough?” I asked coolly. The bell had already rung, but no one dared enter the classroom. Teachers and students from other classes had gathered to watch the drama unfold. It was humiliating. “You’re going to regret this, Eliza!” Chloe spat, yanking her hand free and storming off toward the office. I didn’t care. Nothing was more important than focusing on my studies. But I underestimated just how far her hatred for me would go. Fifteen minutes into the next class, our homeroom teacher appeared at the door, his face dark with frustration. “Come with me to the principal’s office,” he said sharply. “What on earth were you thinking, picking a fight with her?” His scolding continued as we walked down the hallway. “Do you have any idea how much her dad donates to this school? Even the principal has to tiptoe around her. If it were anyone else, I’d try to smooth things over, but this time… you’ve gone too far. When we get there, you’d better apologize, do you hear me?” He gave me a pitying look. “With grades like yours, you have such a bright future. Don’t throw it all away over something so stupid.” When we entered the office, the principal and the head of the grade were already there. “Principal, Mr. Thompson, Eliza understands what she did wrong,” my teacher said with an apologetic smile. “Eliza, apologize to Chloe right now.” “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said firmly, lifting my head to meet everyone’s gaze. “I didn’t start this. She hit me first. Why should I apologize?” “Eliza !” my teacher snapped, his anger evident. The principal and the head whispered to each other for a moment before the head finally spoke up, smiling as if trying to smooth things over. “Kids will be kids. If you don’t want to apologize, fine—we’ll just call your parents instead.” At the mention of involving parents, Chloe’s face darkened. “Principal, my parents are really busy. Let’s not bother them over something so trivial,” Chloe said quickly, flashing her signature “gracious” smile. “But… since she refuses to admit her fault, how about this: take away her scholarship and make her run laps around the track as punishment. Let’s just leave it at that.” The head nodded. “That sounds fair. Eliza, you’re lucky Chloe is so understanding. Now go run those laps, and don’t even think about slacking—we’ll be watching from the windows.” The sun was brutal that afternoon. I ran for an entire class period, my legs trembling by the time I finally collapsed onto the scorching track. Chloe strutted over, her head held high, and prodded my shoulder with the tip of her shoe. “Do you understand what happens when you cross me now? If you know what’s good for you, transfer to another school. Stop showing up with that hideous face of yours—it’s disgusting.” I glared up at her, hatred burning in my eyes. “You think I have to do whatever you say?” “You—” She pressed the sole of her shoe into my back, grinding it down with a smirk. “You’re not the heiress anymore. I am. I’m the one everyone loves now. If you don’t leave, I’ll make sure every day here is hell for you.” When I got home that evening, my mother, Sarah, noticed the dirt and shoe prints on the back of my white school uniform. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gently brushed her fingers over the stains. “Eliza, they’re bullying you too much! I’m going to the school to demand an explanation,” she said, her voice trembling with anger. “Mom, it’s okay,” I said softly, trying to reassure her. But Sarah wiped her tears and pulled me into a tight hug. Chloe didn’t give up on making my life miserable. Under her pressure, teachers and classmates avoided me like the plague, terrified that even speaking to me would bring Chloe’s wrath upon them. But I didn’t let their cold-shoulder treatment get to me. Instead, I doubled down on my studies. By the end of the semester, I scored first place in the entire grade. What I didn’t expect was for my biological parents to show up out of nowhere. That day, after school, I hadn’t even reached the gate when I saw a massive crowd gathered outside. My biological parents were standing there, along with the mayor and a swarm of reporters. The moment I stepped out, my biological mother rushed toward me, tears streaming down her face as she pulled me into a tight hug. “Oh, my baby! Come home with Mom!” she sobbed. I responded with a cold smirk. Did they really think I didn’t know what was going on? Did they think I hadn’t already figured out that the “switched-at-birth” fiasco was orchestrated by them in the first place? Did they assume I’d fall for the web of lies they were now spinning under the guise of familial love? But I raised my head and played along, letting the charade continue. “Mom—” I said, my tone soft and obedient. I didn’t even have time to notify Sarah. The moment the public reunion ended at the school gates, I was whisked away by my biological mother, Catherine Grant.
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