I’m the True Heiress, I Took Back Everything

Chapter 2

I ordered the household staff to move all my belongings into the bedroom Isabel had once occupied, and throw every single one of her possessions out of the house entirely.

A strange, heavy silence hung over the estate after that; no one dared whisper to one another in my presence anymore. I fired the two maids who'd gossiped about me, along with every other maid close to Isabel. It was a warning to the rest, and the effect was immediate.

Even so, I noticed my parents grew quieter and more reserved around me by the day. I thought I simply hadn’t done enough to win their affection.

So I pushed myself relentlessly. I drilled complex social etiquette, memorized tangled commercial clauses, and practiced the piano until my fingertips swelled and ached.

I told myself that if I kept working hard, everything would fall back into its rightful place. But reality struck me hard, completely out of the blue.

At an afternoon tea gathering for society elites, I dressed up carefully and tried my best to fit in. Yet Isabel's circle of close friends stared me down with unkind glares. "If it isn’t the so-called birth daughter who drove Isabel out of the Winslow household," one woman drawled.

I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing myself to stay composed. "Where did you get that idea, Miss Green? She left of her own free will."

She let out a scoff of disdain. "Everyone across Manhattan knows the story. The Winslows brought back some hick from the countryside, turned the whole mansion upside down, and chased off their well-raised adopted daughter. You've dragged the Winslow name through the mud."

My whole body trembled with rage. I was the true blood daughter, yet everyone acted as if I were the villain. She leaned in and lowered her voice. "No one in these circles cares about blood ties. What matters is breeding and grace. Isabel excels at everything—she’s the daughter who brings honor to the chairman of the board. What about you?"

I opened my mouth to retort, yet no words would come out. She watched me crumble with satisfaction, speaking lightly. "Do you honestly think she was forced to leave? The chairman and his wife knew you could never stand having her around, so they lined up everything for her long before."

She chuckled softly. "This morning, the chairman personally brokered an engagement between her and the sole heir of the Harrington Group, an old family ally of the Winslows."

She shot me a pitying glance. "Enjoy your title as the true daughter all you want."

I tracked down Isabel's new residence. I hid around a corner and watched a sharp, aristocratic man in a tailored suit climb into an extended Rolls-Royce at the complex gate.

My parents stood beside the car, waving goodbye to him with warm smiles I'd never once seen them direct at me. Once the man drove off, my father looked utterly relieved. "We've finally crossed the biggest worry off our list. The Harrington Group holds immense power and wealth, and Wright Harrington is already confirmed as their heir—his future is boundless. Isabel's luck has turned for the better at last."

My mother's voice brimmed with fondness as she smoothed Isabel's hair and murmured gentle reminders. "My darling girl, marrying into a family like theirs means countless strict rules, but don't let anyone mistreat you. If trouble ever arises, come to us without hesitation. The Winslow family will always stand firmly behind you."

Isabel's voice cracked with emotion as she wrapped her arms around my mom. "Mom, Dad, I don't want to leave you two."

"Silly child, don't talk nonsense. This place will always be your home."

The warm, loving scene stung my eyes sharply. As they turned to head back into the complex, I rushed forward and blocked their path. All three froze, their warm smiles melting into shock the second they laid eyes on me. I forced a bitter, ugly laugh. "The future Mrs. Harrington… what an extraordinary match you've secured for her."

Father's expression darkened instantly. Mother tried to speak, but I cut her off before she could utter a word. "I distinctly told her to go back to where she belonged. I also warned you both never to meet her behind my back. You've been lying to me this entire time."

"Ella, what is this tantrum about!" Mom finally found her voice, frantic and upset, instinctively stepping to shield Isabel behind her frame. "Isabel grew up sheltered and delicate. That household is full of harsh pressures—how could we send her there to suffer alone?"

I let out a loud, mocking laugh, as if she'd told the most ridiculous joke imaginable. "Mom, have you forgotten? I, your own birth daughter, survived that exact kind of harsh, unforgiving life. Why is it acceptable for me, but unbearable for Isabel?"

My foster parents—the biological pair who'd given birth to Isabel—were utterly despicable human beings. My foster father abused drugs, gambled every cent we owned, and drank himself into violent rages. He beat me constantly throughout my childhood, leaving scars all over my body. Even now, permanent marks mar my legs. My foster mother was cruel, cheap, and malicious. She treated me like a servant, forcing me to wash clothes in freezing water long before dawn in the dead of winter.

For twenty years, I lived without dignity, without enough food to eat, and without a single ounce of familial love. Every day brought nothing but endless torment and despair. Twenty years of suppressed grief and anger spilled over, and hot tears streamed down my cheeks nonstop. "I endured that subhuman life for twenty full years! No one felt a shred of sympathy for me. I survived all of it, yet now, just because she has to return to a life that was originally hers, you fuss over her, pity her, and fear she'll face the slightest hardship!"

Deep down, I'd known they would never truly send Isabel away for good. Still, a pathetic flicker of hope lingered in my heart. I'd thought they might hide her far from me to calm my anger, at the very least put on a convincing show of honoring my wishes. But they could not even be bothered with such shallow pretenses.

Mom flinched from the raw hatred blazing in my eyes. She pulled her arm away from Isabel, reaching toward me before hesitating and drawing back. "Ella… I failed you. For those twenty years, I thought of you every single moment, yet I could never find you."

Tears flooded her face, thick with genuine sorrow and remorse. Yet she lifted her gaze to me moments later. "But you're back with us now. All that pain is in the past. Why do you insist on tearing this family apart? How could you grow so bitter and cruel?"

So my suffering meant nothing to them at all. In an instant, every ounce of strength drained out of my body. Perhaps I never should have come back here in the first place.