Chapter 1The Billionaire’s Scars: The Return of the Real Heiress

When the billionaire found me, my adoptive parents were in the middle of a drunken rage, lashing out at me with a belt.

I didn't run. I didn't cry. I looked at the man in the expensive suit with eyes that were three parts innocent and seven parts hollow.

I looked exactly like a broken porcelain doll.

I knew the truth: I was a replacement. Or rather, I was the original they had lost.

In my past life, I told them the truth immediately. I begged for their love. In return, I was framed, my reputation ruined, and I was eventually burned alive in a "tragic" gas explosion.

This time, I decided to play the role of the girl who knew nothing. I would become the perfect, tragic daughter of the Sterling empire.

"My foster parents only hit me because they loved my brother more," I whispered.

"If you love your 'other' daughter more than me, what will happen to me?"

"I just can't take any more hits."

Three sentences. That was all it took to push the billionaire’s guilt to the breaking point.

I smiled inwardly. The stage was set. Now, the real show begins.

* * *

When my biological parents found me, I was in the middle of a "lesson."

My foster mother had pulled a metal poker from the fireplace. It was glowing orange-red.

She was swinging it toward my back, screaming about some chores I hadn't finished.

In the air, I could almost smell the faint, sickening scent of charred skin.

That was the exact moment the Sterlings burst through the door.

"Stop! How dare you lay a hand on my daughter!"

My foster mother was far gone in her rage. She didn't stop.

My biological mother, desperate to intervene, took a hit to her arm while trying to shield me. She let out a sharp cry, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

I watched them, my expression completely blank.

Does it hurt?

I’m sure it did. But it didn't hurt nearly as much as being burned alive in a basement while my family watched from the lawn.