Chapter 4

Narelle dropped her voice, a wicked little smile on her lips.

"I happened to overhear my foster parents on the phone with the old woman, and that's how I found out I was supposed to be the real heiress."

"I never thought a fake suicide would scare her enough to come running to me."

"To get back into the Pruitt family, I had to cut the brakes on her car so she'd die in a crash."

The words were barely out before I was on my feet, slapping her hard across the face.

She cupped her red, swelling cheek and turned toward the door.

"Donald, she told me to get out of the family, and now she's hitting me…"

Before I could react, Donald came charging in and shoved me aside.

"Marian! How dare you lay a hand on Narelle! You've lost your mind!"

My mouth opened, then I swallowed the words back down.

This scene had played out too many times in my last life.

There were cameras in the lounge, but even if I pointed them out, they'd never check the footage.

They only ever believed Narelle.

Oliver stormed in and jabbed a finger at my face.

"Marian, so you really are exactly what Narelle said. All quiet and harmless on the surface, and behind everyone's back you're trying to kill her!"

Cicely held Narelle close, her eyes going red with pity.

"The banquet's about to start. What are we supposed to do about her face now?"

They led the sobbing Narelle off to find a doctor.

That left just me and Donald in the lounge.

Donald drew a slow breath, forcing down the anger underneath.

He pulled out a stack of papers and dropped them at my feet.

"This is the share transfer for Pruitt Group, and the deed transfer for that villa Grandmother gave you."

"Mom and Dad were willing to let all of this go, out of respect for the fact that you grew up in this house. But today you've disappointed us too much."

"So here's your choice."

"Either you kneel and apologize to Narelle in front of everyone, and you don't have to sign a thing."

"Or you sign these, and you walk out with nothing."

Donald looked at me one last time before he left.

"Marian, you know which one's the smart choice."

I picked the papers up off the floor, took a pen, and signed my name.

That was when Lester Gilbert walked in, the Gilbert heir I'd been betrothed to since childhood.

"I've heard about everything going on with the Pruitts."

I ignored him and pressed my thumbprint over my signature.

Lester went on as if I hadn't.

"You know this was always a marriage alliance between the Gilberts and the Pruitts. Now that Narelle's back, my fiancée changes to her."

"But in my heart, you're the one who's my wife. The Pruitts don't want you, so from now on you can be with me."

I set the papers down and lifted my eyes to him.

"You want me to be your mistress?"

Lester frowned.

"What young man in New York's elite circle doesn't keep a few on the side these days? I only want you. Don't be ungrateful."

In my last life, the final call I made begging for help was to him.

He mocked me on the line.

"On paper you can call yourself a Pruitt daughter all you like, but everyone in the circle knows you're nothing more than the little maid who carries Narelle's bags."

"Behave yourself in that house. Once Narelle and I are married, I'll take you in as my mistress."

I tugged the corner of my mouth into something like a smile.

"Lester, the Gilberts don't have many good days left either."

The Gilbert family only got where they were because of the betrothal to me, riding on the luck I carried.

The moment that engagement was torn up, the Gilberts would end up exactly like the Pruitts.

Inside the hall, the family-recognition banquet began.

After introducing Narelle, Donald stepped forward to make an announcement.

"The Pruitts' adopted daughter, Marian, wishes to kneel before you all and personally apologize to Narelle for the life she stole for eighteen years."

The words fell, and the room went silent.

But a full minute passed, and I never appeared.

The assistant sent to find me came hurrying over.

"Young Master Pruitt, Marian's gone. There were only these two documents on the table in the lounge."

Donald looked at the signature and the red thumbprint on the papers, and his face darkened.

I was cut off from the Pruitts for good.

At that very moment, Oliver took a call from the company.

"What? What do you mean the funds in the company accounts have vanished?"

Donald had just turned to question his father.

Beside him, Narelle suddenly clutched her chest and dropped to the floor.

Cicely let out a terrified scream.

"Narelle! What's wrong!"