Thrown in the Trash
1040 Words
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed with disgust as she glared at Eliana.
“We raised you for eighteen years. That’s more than enough. This necklace was a gift for Maddie, not for you. Don’t push your luck. Before I call the police, I suggest you leave—and never come back.”
“Mom!” Madeline gasped, rushing to put on her gentle act. “Eliana’s birth parents don’t even have jobs. She’s got five older brothers to marry off and a sick grandma to take care of. This necklace might help her survive. She needs it more than I do…”
The maids around them looked touched. How kind. How selfless. What a perfect daughter.
Madeline snatched the necklace back from Clarissa and presented it to Eliana like an offering.
“Here, sis. Take it. I know you didn’t mean to steal it… I was going to give it to you anyway.”
Eliana lifted her eyes, lashes long and thick, her gaze calm and unreadable as it landed on Madeline.
Still pushing the “thief” narrative?
Same tricks. Same fake halo.
Couldn’t she come up with anything new?
“I’ll hold off Mom. You can go,” Madeline added sweetly.
Eliana’s lips curled into a slow, cool smile. The glint in her eyes made Madeline’s heart skip a beat. There was something about Eliana—something regal, unshaken. She looked like a queen simply deciding who was worth her time.
Eliana took the necklace from her, looked it over…
Cheap.
The ruby was poorly cut. The color dull. The metal was barely polished.
Where did they even get this thing? A street vendor?
Ten thousand?
To her, it was worth less than a paperclip.
And just when everyone thought she’d pocket it—
Clink.
She tossed it right into the trash bin.
Clean. Precise. No hesitation.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Clarissa’s eyes bulged. “Eliana! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! That was Maddie’s favorite necklace! She gave it to you and you—you trashed it?!”
“You said it was mine now. I get to decide what to do with it.” Eliana tilted her head. “Besides, I didn’t take a single thing you ever gave me. Why would I start now?”
She glanced around. “Everything I own—I bought it myself.”
One of the maids scoffed. “With what money? Isn’t it all from Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore?”
Eliana’s eyes flicked over to her. “And that concerns you how?”
“You—”
“Focus on cleaning. That’s what you’re paid for, isn’t it?”
The maid flushed but said nothing more.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Charles Whitmore finally spoke, his voice weary. “Eliana, it’s time. Let me walk you out.”
“No need, Mr. Whitmore.”
Mr. Whitmore. She made the cut clear.
Clarissa snorted. “Let her go. She doesn’t even know what’s waiting for her out there. In that backwater town, she’ll be begging to come back.”
“Sir, shouldn’t we check her bag?” the maid piped up again. “It looks full…”
“Enough.” Charles waved her off. He might be the wealthiest man in Eastbridge, but he wouldn’t lower himself to accusing a girl of theft. Not out loud. Not publicly.
⸻
Eliana stepped out of the estate. A black sedan waited at the curb.
It was… dented. The rear bumper was loose, the hood misaligned. The windshield had a hairline crack across it.
A man got out, looking disheveled. His glasses were askew, and his shirt had oil stains.
He paused when he saw her.
She was stunning. Striking. That delicate nose, those eyes, the sharpness in her bone structure… She looked just like Madam Lancaster in her youth.
No—better. More powerful. More captivating.
“My apologies, Miss Eliana,” the driver said, hurrying forward. “There was a truck accident—rear-ended us on the way. I didn’t want to waste your time by changing cars. I checked everything. The vehicle still runs. Just looks… not great.”
That one sentence revealed so much.
Didn’t they say she came from some poor countryside?
Yet someone still sent a car to pick her up?
And this car… It might’ve been beat-up now, but under the scratches and dents—it was a custom Rolls-Royce Phantom, a one-of-one design. Price tag? Over eight figures.
Eliana raised an eyebrow. “Miss Eliana?”
“Yes, you’re the sixth child. You have five older brothers.” The driver quickly added, “Oh, forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Uncle Liu, the family driver.”
She had a driver?
So much for the “poor peasant family” narrative.
“Miss, where’s your luggage?” Uncle Liu looked around. “Is it still inside? I can help bring it out.”
“No need. Everything I need is right here.” She patted her backpack lazily.
Liu nodded. “I’ll just run inside to deliver the gifts your parents prepared. A token of gratitude to your foster family. I’ll be right back.”
He opened the back door.
Bang.
The entire door detached and clattered to the pavement.
Just then, the Whitmore family stepped outside.
Madeline’s jaw dropped.
What the hell kind of car was that? Was that… paperboard?
They had to be dirt poor. Who even drives a car that falls apart like this?
Clarissa looked horrified. This was the family she left with?!
This was her future?!
Even Charles squinted. That car… It had a Rolls-Royce emblem on it, but something felt off. It didn’t look like any model he’d ever seen.
He’d been in luxury his whole life. He knew every limited edition on the market.
He narrowed his eyes.
That badge… could it be fake?
Was the driver just a mechanic playing pretend? Covered in grease, worn-down suit, wrong age to be a sibling…
Maybe he borrowed the car. Maybe he faked the badge. Maybe he wanted to look impressive in front of Eastbridge’s richest man.
Either way, Charles was unimpressed.
What was the point of pretending to be rich in front of someone like him?
- Writer
