Chapter 4The True Heiress Who Sees Through Fake Innocence

The gala was held at the grand ballroom of the Grand Regent Hotel, owned by the Caldwell Group. As the evening began, Boston's elite filled the room, a sea of diamonds and designer wear.

I sat in a quiet corner of the lounge in my white pantsuit, sipping club soda and observing the room with cool detachment.

Beth was the star of the night. Wearing her thirty-eight thousand dollar starry-night gown, she looked like a delicate porcelain doll, surrounded by a circle of wealthy socialites.

"Beth, you're far too kind. That wild girl from the country treats you so terribly, yet you're still defending her," a girl in a red dress said, raising her voice deliberately.

Several disdainful glances shot in my direction.

Beth looked down, playing the martyr. "Don't say that. Gwen had a hard life before she came back. It's only natural she has a difficult personality."

I open my phone's notepad: Using group consensus to isolate the target. A textbook social bullying opening.

Midway through the evening, Richard stood on the stage, delivering a hypocritical speech about finding his long-lost daughter.

Amidst the polite applause, Beth approached me with a glass of red wine, blocking the overhead spotlight.

"Gwen, everyone is looking at you. Aren't you going to offer a toast?" Her smile was sweet, but her eyes were pure venom.

"I'm not thirsty," I said without looking up.

Beth leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "Do you really think coming back means you can steal my life? In this family, I am the only one they love. Even if you share their blood, you're nothing but a stray dog."

I stopped swirling my glass. "Heart rate 120, adrenaline spiking." I looked at her slightly trembling shoulders. "Looks like you're about to make your big move. Let's get on with it, I'm on a schedule."

Beth froze for a fraction of a second.

The next instant, she grabbed the lapel of my suit jacket. Simultaneously, her other hand ripped the ten-million-dollar emerald necklace from her own neck.

The silver chain snapped, scattering emerald beads across the floor.

Beth threw herself backward, letting out a blood-curdling shriek. "Ah! Gwen, what are you doing!"

She crashed to the floor, her wrist scraping against the marble, drawing a thin line of blood.

The entire ballroom fell dead silent. Every eye turned to our corner.

Beatrice screamed, rushing over and pushing me aside. "Beth! Oh my god, Beth, are you alright?"

Mark, who had just arrived from the hospital, saw this and went red with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing my collar. "You vicious bitch! You tried to steal Beth's family heirloom!"

Richard strode over, his face dark enough to summon a thunderstorm. "What happened here?" he bellows.

The girl in the red dress steps forward to testify. "Mr. Caldwell, I saw it! Gwen tried to rip the necklace off Beth's neck. When Beth wouldn't let her, Gwen shoved her to the ground!"

"Exactly! Some people just can't shake their gutter habits!" whispers rippled through the crowd.

Beth wept in Beatrice's arms, gasping for breath. "Dad, don't blame Gwen... maybe she just liked the necklace... I would have given it to her... why did she have to push me..."

Richard's chest heaved with fury. He pointed a shaking finger at my face. "Gwen! You have humiliated this family!" he roared. "Kneel down! Apologize to your sister right now, or I swear I will break your legs!"

Mark pressed down on my shoulders, trying to force me to my knees.

I stood firm, brushing his hands off my shoulders. I adjusted my collar.

"There's no need to kneel." I looked at the self-righteous crowd. "Why don't we all look up first?"

I pulled a small remote from my pocket and pressed the red button.

With a hum, the massive LED screen on the main stage flickered to life.

The video quality was crystal clear, complete with crisp audio.

The camera angle was a wide-angle view captured directly from the lapel of my suit.

It showed everything.