Chapter Six
1480 Words
A hush fell over the Lionel living room as Oliver stepped forward, polished and imposing in a perfectly tailored suit.
“We come bearing gifts for Miss Lionel’s birthday.”
Daphne blinked like a deer caught in headlights. She darted a quick look at her friends, cheeks flushed pink under layers of foundation.
“F-For me?” she stammered.
But almost immediately, she caught herself. Her chin rose, a tight smile stretching her lips as she adjusted the neckline of her glittering birthday dress.
“Of course… the one and only,” she said, a false breeziness coating her voice. “Who else would it be?”
Oliver inclined his head slightly, polite but unreadable. “Are you Miss Daphne Lionel, daughter of this household?”
Daphne tossed her hair over one shoulder, giving a small, superior sniff.
“Obviously. Why? Who exactly are you people?”
Before Oliver could reply, Ash stepped forward, voice crisp and eyes glinting with the chill of a winter night.
“We’re representatives of Clyde Enterprises.”
Gasps ricocheted through the room like dropped glassware. Glasses stilled halfway to lips. Chairs scraped closer as guests leaned in, breathless.
At this point, drinks and food were forgotten, friends stopped laughing with each other at the mention of Clyde.
Everyone etched closer to witness what would unfold next. Even Hazel took some steps closer in confusion.
“What would the Clyde family want with ours? Is this some sort of a prank?” She thought. Her chest suddenly felt tight.
Clyde Enterprises. Even the name felt luxurious enough it sent shivers down anyone's spine.
It felt enormous, echoing inside her skull.
“Clyde Enterprises? The billionaires?
What the hell’s going on?” Hazel wasn't the only one confused and questions swirled around the room like fine wine.
Lucy Lionel lowered her wine glass in slow motion, liquid trembling in the crystal.
Ash continued coolly, “On behalf of Clyde Enterprises, we’d like to present Miss Lionel with tokens of our esteem.”
She flipped open a black velvet box. Inside glimmered an exquisite jewelry set—a necklace dripping in midnight-blue gemstones, paired with delicate earrings and a bracelet that sparkled like frost.
“This is from our new Celestia Noir Collection,” Ash said. “Only three sets exist in the entire world.”
A collective gasp swept the room.
Anna let out a strangled squeal from where she stood, gazing at the jewelry set like it descended from the sky.
Daphne’s eyes widened, fingers twitching toward the jewelry, though she tried to keep her voice casual:
“Oh… well. How… thoughtful.”
But inside, her thoughts roared, “The Clydes. Sending me jewelry. Three in the world. I knew I was born for bigger things…”
Portia burst forward, practically vibrating:
“Wait—only three sets in the world?! Why would Clyde Enterprises give that to Daphne Lionel?”
Whispers crackled like live wires. It was unbelievable.
“Is she marrying one of them?” someone asked the most obvious question
“Is this a business alliance? God, maybe she’s been secretly dating a Clyde brother!” Another guest said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Oliver lifted a hand for silence.
“There’s more.”
A hush swept the room so deep Hazel could hear her own rapid heartbeat.
No way, she thought.
Ash motioned to the doorway. A uniformed chauffeur entered, bearing a glossy velvet cushion upon which sat a sleek, black car key fob.
Oliver cleared his throat, his voice silk over steel, powerful enough to command silence.
“Alongside the Celestia Noir Collection, Clyde Enterprises also wishes to give Miss Lionel a brand new Aventis Royale V8 Coupe, custom-built in Obsidian Black.”
Another eruption of shocked exclamations rattled the room.
Anna shrieked, “That’s a ₦340 million car!”
Anthony’s mouth fell open. He stared at the car key as though it might combust.
Hazel felt like she was watching a surreal play. The names, the money, the Clyde family—it all collided in her mind like stars crashing. Why would they send this… to Daphne?
Daphne swayed slightly, grabbing the back of a chair, trying to compose her face. But inside, her giddiness clawed up her throat.
“Me. An Aventis Royale. The world is finally seeing who I really am…” she said coolly, her friends nodding in agreement.
But Oliver wasn’t finished. He raised his hand again.
“And one last gift…”
Everyone seemed to hold their breaths.
There's more?
Two guards appeared, carrying a steel briefcase. They set it on a table and flicked the locks open with a crisp snap. Gasps rippled anew as stacks of naira bills gleamed under the lights.
Ash’s voice dropped low, deadly calm.
“This contains ₦150 million in cash. Also, a Beverly Hills mansion has been placed under Miss Lionel’s name, fully furnished and move-in ready.”
The entire room imploded into chaos.
“A mansion?”
“This has to be fake—”
“Beverly Hills?!”
Lucy grabbed a chair to steady herself, the color draining from her cheeks.
Anthony stared at the money like he’d just witnessed the Second Coming. His brain raced.
“If Daphne’s tied to the Clyde family… How much higher could I climb?”
He gave a smug smile, edging even closer to Daphne and feigning pleasantness.
Daphne, trembling, managed to rasp out, “All… all of this… for me? From the Clyde family? The richest family in the country?”
Oliver inclined his head gravely. “That’s correct, Miss Lionel.”
Lucy suddenly swept forward, planting her red-taloned hand possessively on Daphne’s arm, a brittle smile carved across her face as she spoke sweetly
“Well… your uncle must’ve pulled some strings, Daphne. My brother is CEO of StellarGrid Technologies. His company’s massive. I suppose he’s rather… tight with the Clydes.”
Her laugh was sharp and glassy as shattered crystal.
Oliver’s smile vanished. His voice became precise as a scalpel.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mrs. Lionel.”
Lucy blinked, confusion clouding her eyes.
“Excuse me?”
Oliver spoke with perfect enunciation, each word a pin dropped in the silence.
“These gifts come directly from the Clyde brothers. They sent them because… their long-lost sister has finally been found. The true heiress of the Clyde family. And that is Miss Lionel here, Daphne.”
The silence that followed could have shattered stone.
Everyone stared at one another, as though they’d all simultaneously forgotten how to speak.
Portia’s voice finally cracked the stillness, small and trembling,
“Did… did he just say… heiress?”
Daphne’s lips worked soundlessly. Her friends clutched one another, eyes wide as dinner plates.
Anthony swallowed hard, panic and greed twisting his insides.
Hazel stood frozen, pulse pounding so hard it blurred her vision. She almost took a step back to sit somewhere but held her footing.
This can't be real, she thought.
But Daphne…Daphne is—
Lucy’s mind was spinning so violently she almost felt sick.
Her eyes darted back and forth between Oliver, the glittering suitcase of money, the luxury car key, and the hushed, gaping crowd.
“Sister of the Clyde brothers? Heiress of the Clyde family?”
No. That couldn’t be right. Daphne was her daughter—her future, her ticket to wealth and status.
But even as she tried to steady her breath, dread slithered into her chest.
“Unless… it’s…
Her eyes drifted, almost against her will, toward a quiet corner of the room.
There, half-hidden behind the gawking guests, stood Hazel.
Pale. Trembling. Strawberry-blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like gold silk. Honey-brown eyes wide and glassy.
Lucy’s heart clenched like a fist.
“No. No, no, no!!!. This cannot be happening…” her mind was a battle.
But every instinct screamed the truth at her.
Hazel, oblivious to Lucy’s penetrating stare, looked utterly lost.
Lucy’s mouth went dry. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Could it… could it really be her?
Lucy’s gaze burned holes into Hazel’s delicate birthmark just barely visible beneath the edge of her dress neckline—the faint shape of a teardrop.
“No. I cannot allow this. Daphne is my daughter. The Clyde family… that power… that wealth… it belongs to us. Not… not to her…”
Lucy stood frozen, a tight, brittle smile plastered across her face as conversations exploded all around her. But inside, she was screaming.
“If this is true… everything will change.”
Her fingers curled into fists so tight, her manicured nails bit into her palms.
She forced her lips to part, whispering under her breath
“Her…”
And there, in the swirl of music, whispers, and flashing lights, Lucy Lionel’s world tilted off its axis.
The secrets she’d buried for decades threatened to erupt like a bomb.
- Writer
