Chasing her Return

Chapter 5 : Discovery

The woman uncrossed her legs and stood up, her smile never faltering. She walked slowly toward me, her heels clicking against the floor in a deliberate rhythm. There was something about her—something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

She stopped just a few feet away from me, her eyes scanning me up and down, assessing me. The smile grew wider, almost sinister.

"You’ve been through a lot, Dianna. More than most could handle. But you and I—" she paused, her gaze locking onto mine, "—we have more in common than you might think."

The room felt colder. I wanted to step back, to put distance between us, but the officers behind me blocked any escape. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

"I don’t know who you are," I hissed, "but I don’t care. Just tell me what the hell is going on."

She stepped closer, and for a brief moment, I caught a whiff of her perfume—something strong and overwhelming. Her smile faded, replaced by an expression of deadly seriousness. "I know you want Justice."

The word hit me like a punch to the gut.

Justice?

Her eyes narrowed. "For your baby. For what was taken from you."

I froze. My breath caught in my throat, and for the first time, fear truly settled deep in my bones. How did she know? How did this woman know about my child, about the burning rage I carried in my heart?

"Who are you?" I whispered, barely able to speak.

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m the one who’s going to help you get what you want, Dianna."

Her words hung in the air like a dangerous promise, and in that moment, everything in my world shifted. Whoever this woman was, she had just opened a door to something I wasn’t sure I was ready for—but I knew one thing: I wanted it.

I wanted revenge.

Her eyes locked onto mine, and suddenly, it was like she was reading me—reading all my anger, my grief, the burning desire to make them pay for everything I had lost. I was teetering on the edge of something I didn’t quite understand, but I was ready to leap.

"Who are you?" I asked again, this time more forcefully, my voice trembling with the storm of emotions raging inside me. I needed to know why she seemed to know everything about me. Why was she here, taunting me with promises of justice?

The woman straightened, smoothing the lines of her sleek dress with a deliberate grace.

"My name is Eleanor," she said simply, the weight of her name settling in the room. "I was the right hand of your mother, Alyssa Armstrong."

Her words struck me like a blow. My breath caught in my throat. My mother? I didn’t even know her. My entire life, I had only known my parents. They had never shown me love or affection. To me, they were just the people who took me in—never really family. And now, hearing that my real mother was someone else entirely? Is this a joke?

Eleanor continued, her voice steady. "Your mother, Alyssa Armstrong, was one of the most influential businesswomen in the world. She left behind an enormous fortune: five hundred billion dollars, with fifty resorts and hotels, two private planes, two ships, and twenty properties worldwide."

I stared at her, struggling to grasp the magnitude of what she was saying. This wasn’t just wealth—it was an empire. But if I had a mother like that, why didn’t I ever know? Why had I spent my life in the shadow of a family that clearly didn’t care about me?

"Why didn’t anyone tell me?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "Why was I left in the dark about all this?"

Eleanor’s eyes softened with a hint of sympathy. "Because, Dianna, you were adopted. Your parents, the ones you believed were your real family, were not your biological parents. They kept this from you. They never loved you the way a real family should."

The room seemed to tilt, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. Adopted?

All these years, I had thought I was part of that family. I had grown up believing they were my real parents, but now… now everything was in question. The emptiness I had felt, the feeling of not belonging—it all started to make a twisted sort of sense. I had been living a lie.

As the realization sank in, another horrifying thought struck me. The way my adoptive parents had treated me suddenly made a painful sort of sense. They had been quick to sell me off to Miguel’s family—an act that had seemed so callous and mercenary. It wasn’t just that they wanted money; it was because I wasn’t really theirs. I was expendable to them.

I felt a deep, sickening pang in my chest. They had never truly cared about me. They had used me as a means to an end. The betrayal cut deeper than I could have imagined.

All those years of feeling unloved and unwanted, and now I understood why. I wasn’t just a product of their lack of affection—I was a pawn in their financial games.

"This is why I’ve come to you now," Eleanor said gently.

"You have a right to this legacy. It’s yours by birthright. And it’s time for you to claim it. But more importantly, it’s time for you to understand who you are and what you are capable of."

My grief for my lost child, my anger at the injustice of my life, and now this new revelation—it was all a jumbled mess inside me. But one thing was clear: I wasn’t the person I had thought I was. I was more.

"I don’t know what to do with all this," I admitted, my voice breaking. "I feel like everything I knew was a lie."

Eleanor nodded, her face softened with understanding. “I know it’s a lot to process,” she said gently. “But you’re not alone in this. You have inherited a vast fortune and a powerful legacy. This is your chance to set things right, to seek the truth, to get justice for your child, and to take control of your life. Your mother’s legacy is more than just wealth—it’s about power, influence, and the opportunity to rebuild everything.”

Her faint smile seemed to hold a knowing reassurance.

“Remember, Dianna,” she said softly, “the world is now yours to command. You have the power to get what you want.”

A surge of anger and resentment bubbled up inside me. “I want revenge,” I declared, my voice fierce and unyielding.

“I want everyone who wronged me to pay, especially Miguel.”

Eleanor’s eyes held a glimmer of intrigue. “So, are you ready to embrace your new identity?”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “New identity?”

She nodded with a reassuring smile. “Yes. From now on, you are no longer Dianna Johnson. You are Dianna Armstrong, the sole heir to Alyssa Armstrong’s legacy.”

The weight of her words settled heavily on me. It was hard to grasp, but I knew one thing for certain: I was ready to use this new identity to exact my revenge. I wasn’t going to be mocked or belittled any longer. They would regret betraying me.

“Well then,” I said with a newfound confidence, “Tell the world, I’m Dianna Armstrong.”