I’m the True Heiress, I Took Back Everything

Chapter 3

Mom seemed startled by her own outburst, a flicker of panic and regret crossing her face. "Ella, that's not what I meant... But this whole mess—who would wish for it? Isabel is innocent too, and now she's been forced to leave home. What more do you want from us?"

Her eyes reddened again as she spoke, as if she were the one who'd been grievously wronged.

What more did I want?

I looked at her, a cold ache settling deep in my chest. My voice trembled with restrained anguish. "How am I supposed to move on? Move on while you two secretly arrange everything for her, then turn around and tell me, 'Let the past be the past'?"

I pointed toward the upscale neighborhood where Isabel now lived. "There has to be a limit to favoritism! She's your daughter too, but you raised her like she was made of gold and pearls. Even when she leaves, she gets protection and a future handed to her! And what about me? When I have grievances, I'm called difficult, insensitive, vicious! In your eyes, my pain will never be worth as much as a single frown from hers."

Every word cut like a knife. I hadn't even noticed when passersby began to gather at a distance, whispering and pointing at the scene.

My father's face darkened. The Winslows valued their reputation above all else—how had they ever endured such humiliation?

His voice carried the weight of authority and barely concealed disgust. "Enough! Haven't you made a spectacle of yourself long enough?"

Without sparing me another glance, he gave a sharp command to the bodyguards behind him. "Take Miss Ella home. She is not to set foot outside the estate without my orders."

The security guards stepped forward immediately and gripped my arms. And so, under the lingering stares of the onlookers, I was escorted back to Winslow Manor.

Back inside the villa, the elderly butler who'd raised me sighed at the sight of me. "Miss... why must you put yourself through this?"

I sat on the sofa, numb and unresponsive. His voice carried the weary wisdom of someone who'd seen too much. "Miss Isabel was raised by Mr. Winslow and Mrs. Winslow for twenty years. That bond... it doesn't break so easily. All this fighting—what does it get you except their disapproval? Instead of tearing the family apart and driving away whatever affection remains, wouldn't it be wiser to think about how to secure what's rightfully yours? Tangible things, in your hands."

His words struck me like cold water, but they cleared the fog in my head. Some things, indeed, couldn't be forced.

After that day, my parents never returned to Winslow Manor.

So I changed into a proper dress and calmly made my way to Isabel's home once more. The maid who answered the door hurried to inform them, but I didn't barge in. I waited quietly outside.

Soon my father and mother rushed out, their faces wary and impatient.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I spoke slowly, deliberately.

"Since you've secured the heir of Harrington Group for Isabel, I want one too. A marriage arrangement. No less than the Harrington Group."

I wasn't asking. I wasn't negotiating. I was informing them. Claiming what should have been mine by right.

"No less than Harrington Group?" My father's brow furrowed, his contempt undisguised. "Such an arrogant demand! Look at yourself—where is the poise and grace of a proper heiress? What respectable family would want a daughter-in-law so utterly lacking in decorum?"

I met his gaze without flinching, my face showing none of the shame he'd expected. My voice was eerily calm.

"You're right. I don't have Isabel's grace. No one ever taught me." I paused, then continued. "But since Harrington Group's heir is marrying a Winslow daughter, why not let me—the real Winslow daughter—take her place? Surely it's safer this way. Imagine if your precious Isabel marries him, and one day I, the 'vicious' one, stir up some scandal that tarnishes her precious reputation and Harrington Group's good name."

My mother gasped sharply, waving her hands in panic. "Ella! That's insane! The match with Harrington Group's heir was settled long ago—it's Isabel! You can't just swap people on a whim!"

My father said nothing. His gaze was fixed on me, studying me as if seeing his daughter for the very first time. He'd never considered my value before. To him, I was an uncontrollable loose cannon—a liability wherever I was placed. He frowned, looking exhausted.

"The match with Harrington Group is set. It's too significant to be treated lightly. As for your marriage... I'll keep it in mind."

He hadn't agreed to my demand. He hadn't even promised to find me a good match. He'd only said he'd "keep it in mind."

But I knew—that was enough. I didn't argue further. I simply nodded. "Thank you, Dad."

The door closed behind me, sealing off their world from mine. I no longer expected them to plan for me, to pour their care and devotion into my future the way they did for Isabel.

But I'd forced them to place me on the board—a piece that had to be weighed and considered.

That was enough.

Affection couldn't be demanded. But interests could be fought for. I couldn't choose my own marriage. So I'd turn it into a transaction.

The game had only just begun.

And I would write the rules myself.