Claimed By the billionaire

Chapter 8

The grand ballroom of the InterContinental was bathed in a warm, amber glow. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a fractured, diamond-like light over the city’s elite. In the center of the room, a grand piano sat on a raised platform, a pianist playing a soft, melancholic melody that floated above the hum of high-society chatter.

Rachel stepped into the room, her posture straight, her expression an unreadable mask. She had chosen a classic, tailored emerald-green gown. It elegantly hugged her curves, but it was modest—nothing too revealing, yet undeniably sophisticated.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, effortlessly cutting through the sea of tuxedos until they landed on Chloe.

Her adoptive sister was practically radiating vanity, wearing a plunging, midnight-blue gown with a dramatic open back. One of Chloe's hands clutched a limited-edition designer clutch, while her other arm was tightly glued to their mother’s.

Rachel had deliberately left the dress her mother sent her sitting in its box. It had been an aggressively sultry, low-cut piece—the kind of dress designed to make Rachel look desperate and classless in front of the media, contrasting sharply with Chloe's "refined" elegance.

As Rachel walked past the peripheral groups, the familiar, venomous whispers of the elite drifted into her ears.

"Look, there’s the real daughter. The one they found in the slums."

"Tragic, really. She has the bloodline, but Chloe is the one who actually behaves like a true Stewart."

"Did you hear about the Vance wedding yesterday? Dominic totally humiliated her. No wonder her family keeps her in the shadows."

Rachel didn't blink. The words that used to slice her to the core now felt like background noise.

Spotting her, Mrs. Stewart and Chloe immediately broke away from a group of investors and marched toward her. Her mother’s eyes instantly raked over Rachel’s gown, her face twisting into an immediate frown.

"Why are you late?!" Mrs. Stewart hissed under her breath, glancing frantically around the room. "And why are you standing here alone? Where is Dominic? I told you specifically to bring him!"

"I told you yesterday, Mom," Rachel replied, her voice deadpan and steady. "Dominic and I are done. We broke up."

Ever since that horrific hour in the warehouse—ever since Dominic had explicitly given those monsters permission to do whatever they wanted to her body—Rachel had stopped seeking people’s love. She was done begging Dominic, done begging her mother, and done trying to prove her worth to a family that viewed her as a transaction.

Chloe let out a soft, mocking scoff, scanning Rachel from head to toe. "Mom, look at what she's wearing. It looks like a shroud. Why do you always have to look so drab, Rachel? On tonight of all nights?"

Mrs. Stewart’s irritation flared higher. "Why didn't you wear the dress I sent to your apartment? Do you enjoy publicly embarrassing me?"

Rachel looked directly into her biological mother’s eyes, a cold, mocking smile touching her lips. "Since you like Chloe so much more anyway, you shouldn't concern yourself with what I wear. It shouldn't matter to you."

Without waiting for a response, Rachel turned on her heel and walked away.

Mrs. Stewart let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, watching Rachel’s retreating back. Why does my biological daughter have to be so incredibly stubborn?she thought bitterly.

Why can't she just be compliant like Chloe?

Chloe squeezed her mother’s arm, putting on her best comforting, angelic expression. "Don't upset yourself, Mom. Rachel is just naturally rude. You shouldn't worry about her—you still have me."

Mrs. Stewart’s expression instantly softened, a proud, warm smile returning to her face as she patted Chloe’s hand. "Yes. Thank goodness I have you, darling."

On the opposite side of the ballroom, Rachel picked up a small silver plate from the catering station and placed a slice of strawberry cake on it. She took a quiet bite, the sweetness doing little to cut the bitterness in the room.

"Do you honestly think that by acting out like a petulant child, Mom and Dad will suddenly notice you?"

Rachel didn't even have to look up to know Chloe had followed her. She took another slow bite of her cake, completely ignoring the provocation.

Frustrated by the lack of reaction, Chloe stepped closer, intentionally tilting her head back. "You might carry their DNA, Rachel, but let's be real. They love me more. They will always love me more. You're just a stranger who crashed our lives."

Rachel finally set her fork down, turning a cold, vacant stare onto her sister. "Are you done?"

"Not quite," Chloe smirked. She reached up, deliberately brushing her hair behind her shoulder to fully reveal the jewelry gleaming against her skin.

Rachel’s breath instantly hitched, her entire body locking up.

Resting against Chloe's collarbone was an antique, intricately carved platinum necklace, paired with matching teardrop earrings.

When Rachel had first returned to the toxic Stewart family, the only person who had ever shown her genuine warmth or kindness was her paternal grandmother. The elderly matriarch had protected Rachel fiercely, but tragically, she passed away just one year after Rachel's return. Her death had utterly devastated Rachel. Before she died, the grandmother had privately left behind two precious family heirlooms—this exact necklace and earring set—explicitly meant for Rachel.

But after the funeral, Mrs. Stewart had locked them away, coldly telling Rachel she was "too unrefined" to care for such expensive history and promised to return them later. Rachel had naiveley believed her mother was just keeping them safe.

Now, seeing them displayed proudly on the adoptive sister who had stolen her life, a raw, burning fury ignited in Rachel's chest.

Chloe touched the platinum pendant, her eyes gleaming with pure malice.

"Recognize this? Grandma might have written your name on the paper, but Mom gave it to me the very next day. I've had it this entire time, Rachel. Because true luxury belongs to those who actually know how to wear it..."

"AHHH!"