CHAPTER ONE – Death of the Fat Heiress
Flashbulbs exploded as the Douglas family stepped onto the red carpet of the Imperial Hotel.
Every headline tomorrow would read “The Douglas Heir Engaged!”—but Charmaine Douglas knew better.
Her lavender gown which was worn by her mom on her 20th birthday strained against her curves, her powdered face hiding the acne scars that had become her trademark. She wanted to surprise Maxwell Williams, her fiance after the event. She had taken the last dose of the detoxification syrup. Her stunning appearance which can cause chaos in the upper class and beyond. Stuffing herself with those clothes to give an impression of her fat body was beginning to tire her out.
Guests smiled politely, whispering as she passed. The fat one. The ugly Heiress. She was already used to it even though she feels embarrassed when Maxwell is around.
At the front, her father’s arm circled Lillian —her beautiful stepsister—instead of her. The socialites surrounding her and praising her beauty.
“Smile, Charmaine,” he murmured without looking at her. “Don’t embarrass the family tonight.”
She smiled anyway. That was her role.
The black sheep of the family.
Inside the glittering hall, violin music floated like sugar. The atmosphere was full of grandeur and merry making.
Lillian’s laughter tinkled behind her. Maxwell—Charmaine’s fiancé—offered her a flute glass of champagne.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, brushing her shoulder with a touch that used to make her tremble.
She lifted the glass. “To love,” she whispered.
The liquid burned down her throat, bitter than usual. She blinked, shaking off the dizziness that followed.
Is it the effect of the last dose?
She been skilled in medicine, checked her pulse and realised she is drugged.
She opened her blue Hazel eyes in shock.
What is going on, she thought.
A soft giggle drifted from the terrace.
When she stepped outside, the night air slapped away the perfume and lies.
The forced smile on the faces of the guest when they spot her. She was rounding a corner when she heard lily, Lillian her stepsister's voice.
Lillian’s voice purred, low and intimate.
“You’ll dump her after tonight, right?”
Charmaine hid behind a pillar in order not to be discovered.
Maxwell ’s chuckle was deep. “Once her father transfers those shares, yes. You’ll be the real Mrs. Williams.”
Charmaine froze. Every syllable tore through her like shards of glass.
Lillian sighed dreamily. “She’s so easy to fool. Look at her—she actually thinks you love her.”
“Don’t worry,” Maxwell said. “After tonight, she won’t be a problem.”
Charmaine stumbled backward, heart pounding. Her head spun; the drug in the champagne was blooming through her veins. She touched an acupoint to stabilise herself but the shock made her tremble, touching the wrong acupoint.
She turned toward the stairs leading down to the ballroom pool.
Footsteps followed—heels clicking, laughter echoing.
Lillian ’s perfume surrounded her. “Going somewhere, sister?”
Charmaine faced them, her voice trembling. “I heard everything.”
Maxwell ’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Then you shouldn’t have.”
Vanessa leaned close, her whisper venomous. “You’ve always been the stain on this family.”
"Today, you will go meet that wretched mother of yours who inspire of her beauty and achievement was easily killed and defeated by my mom".
Charmaine's steps faltered and she looked at lily sharply, her inner walls crumbling into an abyss.
The world tilted as Vanessa’s hand slammed into her chest.
The pool below glittered like broken glass. Charmaine fell, arms flailing, the wind tearing her scream apart.
Cold water swallowed her.
Lights blurred above—the faces of Lillian and Maxwell peering down, unmoving.
Her lungs burned. Her fingers reached for the surface that wouldn’t come.
Through the wavering water she saw her father rush forward, shouting, “Charmaine!”
Then Lillian collapsed dramatically into his arms.
“She slipped, Father! I tried to save her!”
Charmaine’s heart cracked. Even now, he believes them.
Darkness folded over her like velvet.
Silence.
Then—her mother’s gentle voice, echoing in the void.
“My child, they took everything from you.
This time, take it all back.”
A surge of light tore through the darkness.
Charmaine gasped awake.
Her sheets were thin, the wallpaper peeling—the small bedroom from years ago.
She threw back the covers and ran to the mirror.
The calendar on the wall read April 12, 2007 three years earlier before she was brought back from the village.
Her face was the same: chubby, scarred—but her eyes burned with something new.
Rage. Clarity. Power.
She whispered, voice steady as a blade,
“You called me weak. You called me ugly.
Let’s see how ugly revenge can be.”
From under her bed, she pulled a dusty box—her late mother’s journal and a sealed envelope marked Vaennea Couture Holdings Confidential.
Dawn light spills through the curtains.
Charmaine lifts her head toward it and smiles for the first time—not sweetly, but sharply.
“Round one, Vanessa.”
