Chapter 3

3.

I adapted to the "real heiress" job quickly.

In the original story, the protagonist was so jealous of Bella that she always dressed in flashy, over-the-top outfits to one-up her, only to be mocked for looking like a Walmart sales rack. I didn't need that. I was here to work.

Every day, I wore sharply tailored Saint Laurent power suits, my hair pulled back neatly, walking through the house with purpose.

My relationship with Bella settled into a strange truce.

She stopped playing the innocent victim in front of me, and I stopped threatening her. We were like two coworkers forced to share an office, maintaining a polite surface with a deep layer of distrust underneath.

But in private, Bella's true colors started to show.

Once, I accidentally saw her losing her temper at a new maid in the walk-in closet. The maid had singed a corner of her Dior silk blouse while ironing it.

"Do you know how much this costs? More than you make in a year. My God, is it so hard to find competent help?"

Her voice was cold and sharp, a stark contrast to the gentle, kind persona she projected for our parents.

The moment she saw Eleanor walking over, she switched masks.

"Mom, I think I accidentally ruined my blouse. Poor Maria feels so terrible, but honestly, it was all my fault. I'm so clumsy."

Eleanor hugged her, full of sympathy.

I stood in the shadows of the hallway, watching the whole performance.

Bella wasn't clumsy. She was smarter than anyone in this house.

She just used "clumsy" and "weak" as a strategy.

In this family, the strong were expected to bear responsibility, while the weak... only needed to be protected.

In a way, I understood her. It was how she had survived for twenty years in a family with no blood ties.

But understanding isn't the same as forgiveness.

The Wednesday board meeting arrived as scheduled.

I wore a dark gray suit from The Row and sat in the far corner of the conference room―the observer's seat.

Richard sat at the head of the table, flanked by a few white-haired old directors.

And Liam Sterling sat across from him.

He was in a navy three-piece suit today, no tie, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of his collarbone.

I didn't say a word during the entire meeting, just furiously took notes. But Liam would occasionally glance my way―not a scrutinizing look, but more like he was confirming something.

After the meeting, Richard asked me to stay.

"So? What did you think of the meeting?"

I opened my notebook and pointed to a page.

"EBITDA was six hundred million last year, but working capital turnover dropped by twelve percent. The Southeast Asia sourcing strategy needs a complete overhaul. Also, that hedge your CFO mentioned―the counterparty was downgraded by Moody's last month. He either missed it or chose not to mention it. Neither scenario is good."

Richard was silent.

This information wasn't in today's meeting packet. I had done my own homework―SEC filings, Moody's rating changes, supply chain analysis from industry databases. It was all public information, but you had to know where to look and how to interpret it.

He looked at me, and for the first time, there was something real in his eyes―not affection, but the instinctual recognition of one predator identifying another.

"Where... in Missouri... did you learn all this?"

I didn't tell him the truth.

The truth was that the previous Harper, the foolish girl they had driven to her death, had spent countless nights shivering under a thin blanket in a trailer park, using the spotty WiFi to devour every article on Investopedia. She had worn out every valuation textbook by Damodaran in the library and audited finance classes at a community college for two years―before being forced to drop out because she couldn't afford the tuition.

She thought that if she were smart enough, this family would finally accept her.

She was wrong.

But everything she learned, she left for me.

"The public library is free, Richard. And the internet doesn't care about your zip code."

Richard nodded, not asking any more questions.

But from that day on, he started giving me access to some of the company's non-critical business operations.