The True Heiress's Revenge
Black wrought iron entwined with gilded floral patterns, like a cold net, smothering my last flicker of hope for my biological parents.
When the butler opened the door, his gaze swept over my threadbare coat, that appraising look like one sizing up a cheap commodity.
I should have known long ago that they had already been investigating me.
A few days ago, I received the kinship acknowledgment letter; it made no mention of my disappearance twenty years ago, only saying "found estranged distant relatives." Now, it seems even "distant relatives" was a carefully chosen euphemism.
As I stepped into the living room, the crystal chandelier's light stabbed into my eyes, leaving me unable to look up.
Simon Johns, my biological father, sat on a genuine leather sofa, smoking a cigar; the diamond cufflinks on his suit were worth more than all my possessions combined.
He didn't look at me, merely nodding his chin toward the man beside him.
That was Michael Johns, my half-brother. He frowned at me as if I were a stranger who had invaded his territory.
"This is Noelle Scott," Simon finally said, his voice as flat as if reading a shopping list, "a distant relative of mine. There was some trouble at her home, so she's staying here temporarily."
The phrase"distant relative" stabbed at my throat, tightening it painfully.
I opened my mouth to argue, but a delicate voice cut me off.
Sherilyn Johns descended the spiral staircase, her pink princess dress making her skin look porcelain white, the emerald necklace around her neck dazzling the eye.
She deliberately stopped in front of me, lifted her hand, and brushed the necklace: "Dad bought this in S Country last month. It cost eight million dollars. It's said to be the only one in the whole N city."
Her nails painted in pearly polish gently scraped the surface of the gem: "Some people might never see something this expensive in their whole lives, and do not dare to even touch it."
I took a half step back and accidentally bumped into the tea table.
The glass wobbled.Sherilyn suddenly screamed, "What are you doing? Do you want to break Dad's collection? Can you afford to pay for it?"
Michael immediately rushed over and shoved me. "Keep your hands to yourself! Apologize to Sherilyn right now!"
I staggered and crashed into the corner of the wall; a dull pain radiated through my back.
Is this truly my biological father and elder brother?
In their eyes, there was only Sherilyn, the adopted daughter who usurped my identity for twenty years.
I bit my lip, saying nothing. My father Simon frowned and said, "Nanny Mueller, take her upstairs to the small room. Don't let her come down unless necessary."
The small room was in the farthest corner of the villa, its window facing the trash heap in the backyard.
I sat on the hard single bed, gazing at the gray, overcast sky beyond the window.
Recognition by my biological family wasn't salvation—it was throwing me from the warm nest of my foster parents into an even colder abyss.
The next morning, I was roused by crying from downstairs.
Dressed quickly, she ran downstairs to find the living room already crowded with servants.
Sherilyn knelt on the floor, clutching the emerald necklace broken in two, tears streaming like beads slipping from a broken string: "Dad! My necklace is broken! It was Noelle! I saw her creeping outside my door last night!"
My heart sank suddenly.
I never left my room last night; Nanny Mueller can vouch for me.
Before I could say a word, Michael had already drawn a whip from the cabinet.
The whip was made of cowhide, its iron-tipped end barbed with spikes; sunlight shimmered coldly on it, casting an eerie glow.
"Was it you who broke it?" Michael Johns's hand clenched tightly around the whip, veins bulging.
"It wasn't me," I hurried to explain. "Nanny Mueller was in my room last night when she brought me medicine. She can confirm it!"
"You still dare to lie!"Sherilyn rose to her feet, pointing right at my nose.
"Who else could it be? You're just jealous because I have a father who loves me, jealous of this beautiful necklace!"
I looked toward Simon, hoping he would give me a chance to defend myself.
But he only waved his hand coldly.
"Michael, strike her. Let her learn that the Johns' belongings aren't for just anyone to touch."
Two servants immediately grabbed my arms and pinned me against the sofa armrest.
"Wait!" I struggled, lifting my head. "My husband is Charlie Lucas! You can't hit me! He won't let you get away with this!"
I thought Charlie's name would make them hesitate.
After all, no one in N city dared to underestimate the Lucas Technology Co. Ltd.
But they suddenly burst into laughter.
Sherilyn laughed, unable to straighten her back: "Charlie? Have you gone mad? How could Mr. Lucas, such an important figure, marry a country girl like you?"
Simon sneered, "I think you've lost your mind trying to climb the social ladder. Michael, don't waste your breath on her."
When the first whip came down, I felt as if my back had been seared by fire.
The coarse cloth tore open instantly, blood beads seeping out, cold and painful as they stuck to my skin.
"Ah!" I couldn't help but cry out.
"Shut up!" Michael swung the whip again. "After stealing our things how can you still have the nerve to yell!"
The thorns tore into my flesh; with every strike, it felt like my soul was being ripped apart.
Sherilyn stood nearby, her eyes filled with smug triumph, occasionally sneering, "Brother, go easier! She still hasn't admitted her guilt!"
By the twentieth lash, I no longer felt any pain—only a numb coldness.
I remembered what Charlie said before his business trip: "Noelle, if you suffer any injustice, call me anytime."
But now, my phone had been confiscated by Sherilyn; I didn't even have a chance to cry out for help.
The moment the thirtieth lash fell, my vision went black, and I lost consciousness.
My last thought before passing out was: Johns Family, I will never let you go.
The seed of revenge quietly sprouted amid the bloodstains covering my back.
The wound on my back took half a month to scab over.
When Nanny Mueller secretly brought me anti-inflammatory medicine, she always sighed, "Miss Scott, don't go head-to-head with Miss Johns. No one in the Johns will help you."
I nodded, but deep inside, my resolve to leave this place only grew stronger.
Before I could find the chance, Sherilyn's birthday banquet had arrived.
"You have to go too," Simon's secretary said as he tossed me an old formal dress. "Madam said you'd better not disgrace the Johns."
The dress was off-white, its collar yellowed, the sleeves shortened, and the skirt bore a stubborn stain that no washing could remove.
It was obviously a leftover from Sherilyn.
On the night of the birthday banquet, the Banquet Hall was filled with champagne towers and red roses.
The guests wore custom-tailored gowns, holding stemmed glasses as they chatted and laughed.
I stood in the corner wearing that old formal dress, feeling like an outcast.
Sherilyn wore a princess gown encrusted with rhinestones, surrounded by a circle of socialites.
When she saw me, she deliberately approached and said, "Noelle, are you wearing that dress just to set me off? Well, I guess you can only ever be a backdrop."
I turned to leave when suddenly the doors of the Banquet Hall were thrown open.
Two men in black suits carried in a banner, swiftly unfurling it.
The words on the banner pierced my eyes like thorns: "Happy 20th Anniversary of the Johns Family's Adopted Daughter Noelle's Disappearance!"
The entire hall fell deathly silent.
All eyes fixed on me—some with pity, others with scorn, and a few with voyeuristic curiosity.
A chill ran through me as my nails bit deep into my palms.
Today is the day I went missing?
The Johns are throwing Sherilyn's birthday banquet today—and deliberately humiliating me with that banner!
Sherilyn smiled even more brightly. "Noelle, so today is the day you went missing? What a coincidence! From now on, my birthday will be your anniversary too!"
I clenched my fists tightly, barely able to contain the urge to rush forward.
At that moment, the banquet hall door was pushed open again.
Charlie Lucas stepped inside.
He wore a black suit, standing tall and proud, with two bodyguards following him, each carrying an exquisite gift box.
The entire hall fell deathly silent.
Simon Johns and Michael Johns instantly changed expression and hurried to greet him. "Mr. Lucas? Why have you come? We didn't send you an invitation."
Charlie ignored them, his gaze searching the crowd until it found me; then he quickly walked over.
He saw the old formal dress I was wearing, then caught sight of the glaring banner, and his brow immediately furrowed.
"Noelle," he gently grasped my hand, the warmth of his palm bringing tears to my eyes, "I'm sorry you've been wronged."
Sherilyn saw Charlie, her eyes lighting up instantly as she tried to approach but was stopped by the bodyguard.
"Mr. Lucas, don't you recognize me?" She rushed out, "We met before at the charity gala! I'm Sherilyn Johns!"
Charlie didn't even glance at her. Coldly, he said to Simon, "Mr. Johns, my wife Noelle, is she a guest you invited? Is this how you treat her?"
Simon Johns was stunned. "What...wife? Mr. Lucas, you say Noelle is your wife?"
Charlie said nothing. He took a gift box from the bodyguard and opened it.
Inside was a diamond necklace; a pigeon egg-sized diamond sparkled brilliantly under the light, shining ten times brighter than the gem on Sherilyn' neck.
"This is for you," he said carefully, fastening the necklace around my neck before picking up another gift box. "Inside are samples of the anti-cancer medicinal herbs developed by the Lucas Group. I had intended to discuss a cooperation with Mr. Johns, but now, it seems unnecessary."
A wave of shock rippled through the entire hall.
No one could have imagined that I, scorned by the Johns as a distant relative, would actually be Charlie's wife.
Sherilyn's face drained of color instantly; she could no longer force a smile.
Charlie held my hand and faced all the guests.
"Everyone," his voice calm but unmistakably commanding, "Noelle Scott is not only my wife but also Mr. Simon Johns's biological daughter."
His words exploded like a bomb, sending the entire hall into an uproar.
Simon's face went pale at once. He hurried over and tried to take my hand.
"Noelle! My dear daughter! It was never my intent to deny you; I was simply confused before! Please forgive your father, will you?"
Michael also said quickly, "Noelle! I'm your brother! I was wrong before. I shouldn't have hit you. Please don't hold it against me."
I watched their faces change faster than flipping through a book, and my stomach twisted.
"Father? Brother?" I sneered, "Before, when you said I was a distant relative, accused me of being jealous of Sherilyn, and whipped me, why didn't you call me daughter or sister then?"
Sherilyn stamped her foot anxiously. "No! Dad, Brother, don't listen to her! She's a liar! She deliberately impersonated your daughter and even tricked Mr. Lucas into marrying her!"
"Whether she's a fraud, you can tell by watching the surveillance." Charlie took out his phone and handed it to the servant beside him. "Connect this to the big screen."
Soon, the big screen began playing the video.
The video showed Sherilyn's bedroom. She held the emerald necklace, glanced around left and right, then yanked hard, breaking the necklace.
She then sank to the floor, wailing loudly, and shouted toward the door, "Noelle broke my necklace."
The room erupted into an uproar.
"So it was she who broke it herself!"
"So scheming! she actually framed her own biological sister!"
"How could the Johns raise such an ungrateful wretch?"
Sherilyn stared at the video, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. "No... it's not like that... The video is fake!"
"Whether it's fake or not, the police will find out once they investigate." Charlie said coldly.
At that moment, a middle-aged man approached. It was Mr. Washington, head of the Washington Family and Sherilyn's future father-in-law.
His face pale, he looked at Simon. "Mr. Johns, our Washington Family cannot accept a woman like this! From today on, the engagement between Sherilyn and my son is off!"
Sherilyn screamed, "Mr. Washington! No! I didn't mean to! Please give me one more chance!"
Mr. Washington ignored her and turned away.
Simon stared at the chaos before him, sweat pouring down his forehead in desperation.
He tried to grasp my hand again, but Charlie blocked him.
"Mr. Johns," Charlie's eyes were like ice, "What you did to my wife—I haven't settled this with you yet."
"The whip marks, the framing, and today's humiliation. Do you really think it's over just like that?"
Simon's legs went weak with fear, and he nearly collapsed to his knees with a thud.
"Mr. Lucas, I was wrong! Truly wrong! How much do you want? I'll give it to you! Just please don't cause trouble for the Johns family!"
"Money?" Charlie sneered, "I am not short of money. What I want is for you to apologize to my wife and for the Johns to give her an explanation."
I looked at Simon's disheveled state and felt not a shred of sympathy.
They deserved every bit of it.
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