I Audited My Family and Fired the Fake Heiress

I had been the first female president in Aldorian history. On the day I died of overwork at the Presidential Residence, the three armed forces fired a salute, and the entire nation lowered its flags to half-mast. When I opened my eyes again, I had become the biological daughter of the Hawthorne family—the one who had been lost for 18 years. On my first day home, my biological mother looked at me with disdain, and my eldest brother warned me to know my place. The fake daughter forced me to apologize to her friends. A table full of influencers held up their phones, waiting for me to make a fool of myself, calling me trailer trash. I laughed. I had faced the guns of the Hall of Congress more than 100 times. This little circus was supposed to be a "compliance test" for me? If the team couldn't deliver, I'd lead it myself. Goal: three years—put the Hawthorne family on top of the Sterling Fortune List. ***** Wendy's tears came on command. "Evelyn, don't blame Mom—she's just... not used to you yet. Why don't you apologize to my friends first? You really startled them when you walked in." The moment she finished, a girl beside her chimed in, "Exactly. Dressed like that, barging in—I thought some trailer trash had wandered into the wrong house." Another one raised her phone and aimed it at me. "Hold still. Let me get a shot. This outfit would go viral on Vibe—I already have the caption: Kingsport Hawthorne heiress dresses worse than a MarketMart cashier." The table burst into laughter. Wendy stood in the middle, saying "Don't be like that," but her hand never moved an inch. My biological mother sat beside the head of the table, looking at me like I was a piece of gum that had stuck to the floor of a banquet hall. Her eyes traveled from my head to my toes, lingering far too long on my faded cotton shirt. Then she turned away and continued chatting with the socialite next to her. My eldest brother, Samuel, leaned against the marble fireplace without even looking up. "Apologize. Don't make things difficult for Wendy." I swirled the red wine in my glass. It was too warm. The tannins were bitter from the heat. I held it up, my gaze drifting past the crowd to a flustered server nearby."You," I said calmly. "Come here." The server froze for a second and pointed at himself uncertainly. I nodded once. He hurried over immediately, bending slightly as he approached. I handed him the wineglass and pointed toward the small spill on the carpet. One of Wendy's friends had knocked it over earlier while crowding around me. "Clean this up. And,"—my voice was calm, but it made several heads turn—"bring me a glass at the right temperature. A 1982 Lafite should be served at 16 to 18 degrees. This one is at least 20." I turned to my biological mother. "By any formal event's hosting standards, a stained carpet should be immediately replaced, or the guests should be redirected to a backup reception area. Leaving a stain in plain sight and ruining the event's atmosphere—that's on you." Her face—overfilled with injections—was frozen in shock. "You..." She probably hadn't expected a wild girl from a small town to know more about banquet etiquette than she did. I ignored her and turned to Samuel. "Protecting the women in this family is your basic duty as the eldest brother. This young lady,"—I pointed at the flamboyantly dressed girl beside Wendy—"verbally attacked me, and you stood by doing nothing. That's a failure of duty."Samuel's face darkened instantly. Finally, my gaze landed on Wendy's tear-streaked face. "As the host of tonight's birthday party, your primary responsibility is entertaining guests, not creating internal conflict that damages family unity." "Using guests to pressure another family member shows poor judgment and stupidity." I paused briefly before delivering my conclusion. "The three primary responsible parties have all failed in their duties. The performance rating for this birthday banquet: failing." A heavy silence settled over the corner of the banquet hall. Even the music in the distance suddenly felt muted. Wendy stood frozen in place, the tears still clinging to her lashes as if she had forgotten how to cry. My mother was trembling with fury now, the hand pointing at me shaking so badly that the diamonds on her wrist rattled softly. Beside her, Samuel's expression had turned darker and darker, like a storm about to break. He ground his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw twitched visibly. "Who do you think you are?" "My name is Evelyn Hawthorne," I announced. "Starting today, I officially join the Hawthorne family—as the eldest heiress." I gave them a polite nod. "I hope we work well together in the future." After delivering my verdict, I stopped looking at them altogether and walked straight through the crowd toward the buffet table as if nothing had happened. The buffet table was piled with caviar, and the dessert tower stood tall as the Arden Spire. Even the macarons were dusted with edible gold leaf. I picked up a white porcelain plate and took a slice of Black Forest cake—the most normal-looking thing on the table. Behind me, muffled, chaotic whispers buzzed with shock. I'd barely taken two bites when the entire banquet hall fell silent. I looked up and saw a tall, middle-aged man descending the spiral staircase. He wore a dark tailored suit, and the only jewelry on him was a plain wedding band on his left ring finger. In this sea of glitz and glamour, he stood out precisely by being understated. His features resembled Samuel's, but his gaze was far deeper—carrying an authority that brooked no argument. This was the head of the household—my biological father, Harrison Hawthorne. He walked straight through the crowd and stopped in front of me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe with a look that was both curious and measuring. I calmly swallowed the cake and met his gaze. "Yes?" "You're Evelyn?" he asked at last. "That's right." "I heard about what happened just now." His brows furrowed slightly. "You came home on your first day and already caused this much chaos. "Do you really think that was appropriate?" I wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin, slow and unhurried. "Dad," I said. His expression shifted slightly. "This wasn't causing trouble. This was corrective management for a newly assigned family member." I looked around the glittering banquet hall before returning my gaze to him. "This family has problems from the foundation up. If nobody fixes them soon, sooner or later something serious will happen."