《Fake Heiress: The Billionaire’s Hidden Daughter》

Serena Lancaster calmly closed the DNA reports. The results were crystal clear—she wasn’t a Lancaster. She glanced at the couple sitting across from her, dressed in their usual elegant perfection. Her voice was steady. “So, I was switched at birth with the Quinns’ daughter? Elara Quinn is your real child?” Victoria Lancaster, the matriarch, didn’t even flinch. She simply nodded, showing no trace of emotion. On the opposite sofa, a girl sat hunched over, dressed in a yellowed, outdated dress. Her puffy red eyes made her look like a fragile little lamb. When she lifted her head, her gaze flickered with something unreadable as she looked at Serena—jealousy, masked beneath a layer of pitiful innocence. “Sister,” Elara sniffled, timidly reaching for Serena’s sleeve. “I just wanted to find my real family. You understand, right?” Serena stepped back, letting Elara’s hand drop. “Don’t call me that. It makes me nauseous.” Hate her? No. If anything, Serena wanted to thank Elara. For years, she had been looking for a way out of this golden cage, away from her two psychopathic brothers. Now, Elara had handed her the perfect excuse on a silver platter. Elara hesitated before standing up, carefully clutching the hem of Serena’s gown. “I know this must be hard for you. You’ve lived here for seventeen years—it’s your home. And your birth family is… well, not well-off. Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed? We could live as real sisters.” Serena’s brow arched as she glanced down at Elara’s deliberately dirtied hands. Her distaste was evident. “Stay away from me,” she said, flicking Elara’s hands off her dress. Then—thud. Elara collapsed onto the floor with a dramatic gasp. No one had even seen what happened. But there she was, curled up, her trembling fingers covering her face, tears pooling in her wide, sorrowful eyes. “Serena…” she whimpered, her voice laced with heartbreak. “I just wanted to get along with you. I thought if we stayed close, Mum and Dad wouldn’t be sad about you leaving. But… why did you push me? Did I say something wrong?” Normally, this would be the part where Charles and Victoria Lancaster rushed to comfort their long-lost daughter, reprimanding the fake one for being ungrateful. But instead—silence. The entire room remained still. Not even the butler moved. Elara’s soft sobs echoed through the air, making the whole scene unbearably awkward. Serena didn’t interrupt her little performance. She simply found it amusing. This was the Lancaster family. They didn’t waste their time on pathetic theatrics. The Lancasters had built their empire over four generations of politicians and six generations of ruthless businessmen. Blood ties mattered—but only as long as you were valuable. Clearly, in Charles and Victoria’s eyes, there was no real difference between Elara and Serena. If anything, Elara was even less valuable. “Enough.” Charles Lancaster’s voice was sharp and cold. “Go to your room.” Elara froze, her unshed tears glistening. Was that… pity? Serena smirked, tossing the DNA reports onto the coffee table. She sank into a chair, crossing her legs with lazy elegance. “I’ll leave tonight,” she said simply. Charles didn’t even glance at her. He sipped his whiskey. “Three million pounds. Sign the NDA.” Hush money. Serena almost admired his efficiency. “How generous, Mr. Lancaster.” Elara scrambled up. “Wait! At least take your things—” But Victoria silenced her with a glare. “Mrs. Taylor, burn whatever she leaves behind.” Elara’s jaw dropped. Burn a Birkin?! Serena didn’t bother looking back. She packed only what mattered—her passport, phone, and the USB drive hidden in her sock drawer. The Lancaster gates closed behind her. Let them enjoy their happy little family reunion. The real heirs—the twins—were coming back from Oxford next week. And they didn’t tolerate fakes. Serena smiled. Soon, all of London would know— the fake heiress was the most dangerous one of all.