At the Manhattan’s elite gala, Father told me to lead the opening dance. The three childhood friends who’d promised me weeks ago—all of them avoided my eyes and walked straight toward the fake heiress, Fiona Foster. “Fiona’s position is awkward. If no one picks her, it’d be humiliating.” I stood there, watching Xavier—heir to the Sterling family—approach. I thought he’d finally announce our engagement publicly, but he leaned in and whispered an apology. “You’re calculating, Evelyn. You have means. You’re the Foster family’s true heiress—you don’t need my protection. But Fiona’s different.” I grabbed his hand. He pulled away, walking toward Fiona anyway. When Fiona looked past everyone else and took Xavier’s hand, the crowd started their commentary: “So she was waiting for Mr. Sterling all along. No wonder she ignored everyone else.” “The Foster heir and the Sterling heir—two future powerhouses. A match made in heaven!” Everyone congratulated my father. But his face went black. They didn’t know—everyone in the Foster family was hoping I’d fall in love, so they could hand my inheritance to the fake heiress without a fight. … This opening dance represented the Foster family’s reputation. I’d been lost for twenty-two years. Found and brought home only three years ago. This was the first time the Foster family hosted a gala where I was asked to lead—a recognition of my identity. Xavier knew exactly how much this meant to me. But he still walked toward Fiona without looking back. The atmosphere turned strange. I stood rooted, throat tightening. Watching Xavier take Fiona’s hand and step into the center of the dance floor. The spotlight followed them. The mockery chased after me: “I heard the Sterling and Foster families were planning an alliance. Guess we know who the real match is now. We all thought it’d be the noble true heiress…” “Looks like Mr. Sterling came tonight to back his future fiancée…” The music started. Xavier lowered his head slightly, listening to something Fiona was saying. His gaze—tender in a way I’d never seen before. Turns out when someone truly cares about another person, even their eyes soften involuntarily. And me? I only ever got to see the ruthless business king side of Xavier Sterling. After all, in his eyes, I was the daughter who clawed her way back into the Foster family halfway through— Scheming. Calculating. Even my sadness looked performative. My aunt swayed over with a wine glass, half the ballroom watching. “Well, well. Our legitimate Foster heiress standing all alone?” “Some people just aren’t born with that kind of luck, you know.” “Your grandfather gave you the best of everything the second you came back, but Fiona—she’s naturally blessed. Even after you pushed her aside, she still manages to take everything.” Aunt’s words scraped past my ears like blades. I tightened my grip on the wine glass. Before the gala, Xavier had told me—his position was delicate. Every move he made sent a signal for his family. Unless the Sterling elders gave a clear stance, he wouldn’t dance with me publicly. I was anxious, but I understood his difficulty. After all, in Manhattan, the balance between the Sterling and Foster families was fragile. If he asked me for the first dance, it would be picking a side. So I’d prepared ahead of time. I’d asked each of my three childhood friends separately to dance with me at this gala. They’d all agreed. No hesitation. But when the lights came up, they all walked toward Fiona instead. I’d guessed the beginning. I just didn’t guess the ending. Xavier did avoid dancing with me, the Foster heiress. He just walked toward a different member of the Foster family instead. Turns out there was no family signal. He just didn’t want to protect my dignity. He wanted to give someone else security.
Applause erupted. The first dance ended. Xavier’s hand rested naturally on Fiona’s waist. The three childhood friends who came for me were now busy crowding around them with champagne glasses. Xavier crossed through the crowd toward me. He lowered his head to look at me: “Fiona’s had it rough these years. You came back and easily slid into the heir candidate pool. She worked for years—lost everything because of bloodlines.” “It’s just one dance. You’ve always been generous.” “If tonight gets out,” I cut him off, “what will people say? That the Foster heiress is a joke who can’t even hold her own event?” His brow furrowed. “You overthink everything. Who’d dare laugh at you?” Seeing my silence, his voice dropped. “Evelyn, you’re strong. You can stand on your own. But Fiona’s different!” “If I don’t choose her tonight, if I don’t show I value her, she becomes the Foster family’s abandoned child.” I looked down at the wine swirling in my glass. He didn’t know—the Foster inheritance battle had reached a life-or-death point. Father’s message was clear: Either marry someone from a family equal to the Fosters, like Xavier Sterling, and let Grandfather kick me out of the running. Or he’d “arrange” me to some borderland upstart and eliminate the problem permanently. I’d wanted to stay outside the game a little longer. But this one dance shattered all my room to maneuver. Fiona trotted over, eyes hopeful as she looked at Xavier: “Xavier, could you introduce me to some of the guests?” “I’m not as thorough as Evelyn.” “She always keeps this little notebook—records which young heirs are rising, which uncles control rare resources…” She covered her mouth, frowning with self-reproach. “I—I don’t mean she’s opportunistic. She’s just… diligent.” Nearby, two ladies’ smiles faded. “Recording everyone’s value? This Foster heiress… quite the schemer.” “No wonder she made heir candidate in just three years.” Whispers drifted over. My blood ran cold. That notebook was homework assigned by Grandfather. When I first entered the circle, he told me to study the merits of each family’s elders… Xavier had even coached me on it. But he didn’t say a word in my defense. Let me become the center of the storm instead. Fiona looked at Xavier regretfully: “Did I say something wrong again? I just admire how capable Evelyn is…” He patted her hand. “It’s fine. Evelyn has a big heart—she won’t be mad at you.” Then he led Fiona away to greet others. “Xav—” Surrounding whispers drowned out my voice: “I felt bad for her getting her spotlight stolen, but ugh… turns out she’s that calculating.” “…” I stood in place, freezing from the inside out. Suddenly remembering that rainy day three years ago when I first returned to the Foster family. My adoptive parents were considered upper class. But compared to top-tier families like the Fosters, they weren’t truly seen as equals. The day I was brought back to the Foster estate, Manhattan was drowning in rain. I stood alone outside the ancestral home. Grandfather deliberately tested me, refusing to let anyone open the door. That’s when I met Xavier. He walked over with an umbrella and said: “Just got home? I’ll protect you from now on.” Now, his umbrella was over someone else’s head. I set down my glass and turned toward the terrace. The night wind was cold against my face. The composure I’d forced earlier cracked at the edges. Grandfather returns in seven days. If tonight’s events spread, it would definitely cost me points in his eyes. … After standing there for a while, I walked back into the ballroom. Caleb suddenly hurried toward me. “Evelyn, don’t go over there.” I followed his gaze. Those two were still spinning in the dance floor. He thought I was going to make a scene. Can’t blame him. Of the three childhood friends, he was the only one who’d survived years with me at the orphanage before I was adopted. Back then, whenever they handed out apples, I’d fight for the biggest, reddest one. Once I got it, I’d shove it at him first. Because he was slow at everything, and I was afraid he’d starve. Later, my adoptive parents took me in. I saved every bit of allowance, begged them to pull strings. Sponsored his expensive art school tuition. Did everything I could to lift him up into the influential appraiser he is today. But I was just a wild vine that clawed out of the mud alongside him. No matter how much support and nourishment I gave— I’d never compare to that untouchable sun high in the sky. I stepped around him to leave. He grabbed my wrist from behind. “Evelyn, if Xavier already chose, going over there now will just humiliate you more.” “Let go!” I tried to pull my hand back. He gripped tighter. In the struggle, my already-injured ankle twisted. I lost balance and fell backward. My back slammed against a pillar and I dropped to my knees, the impact echoing dully. Searing pain exploded. Caleb froze. “Why are you doing this? You’ve had everything at the Foster house these three years. What does Fiona have left?”
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