Alice let out a sound, a dry, dismissive hiss.
“Jeez, Charice. Look at this. Here comes another deluded person, absolutely desperate to be rich.”
She fanned herself with the back of her hand, the picture of bored disgust.
“I wonder which poor, slum-dwelling relative of yours this is? He probably walked from the bus station.”
James chimed in, adjusting his silk tie as if the man’s presence soiled it.
“So be it. Honestly, if you don’t even have a car, why bother pretending to be a driver? It’s pathetic.” He gestured to his own gleaming Mercedes in the driveway.
“This is a wealthy district, Charice. We have standards. How could there not be space for one car of yours?” He laughed, a cruel, barking sound.
“What, did you actually bring a fleet of cars? How embarrassing.”
“Forget it,” Alice snapped, grabbing James’s arm.
The man in the black suit just bowed slightly.
“This is a gift from our master, to express his gratitude to you for taking care of Ms. Charice.” He held out a simple, elegantly wrapped gift box.
“Take it as… we’re buying a clean break. From now on, Ms. Charice has nothing to do with you two whatsoever.”
“A clean break?” James scoffed.
“Do you really think we want anything to do with you poor bloods? Give me that.” He snatched the box.
“This looks… pretty decent. Since it’s free, I’ll take it.”
Alice peered at it.
“These poor people come from the slums. How good could their gift be? The most they can afford are probably some free-range eggs.” She waved a dismissive hand, her diamond rings catching the light.
“They’re just trying to act all formal so they can cling to you as relatives, Charice. Mark my words, they’ll be back, begging for money. I don’t want that. Hurry up and leave.”
The driver’s smile never wavered. It was the most terrifying smile I’d ever seen.
“I advise you to take it. Otherwise, you might live to regret it. This gift box alone is worth a fortune.”
A fortune. I looked at the box, then at the man. My biological father wasn’t simple.
“Since Mr. and Mrs. Larsson don’t appreciate it,” the driver said smoothly, retrieving the box, “we won’t force it upon you.”
“Delete her number, James. Quick,” Alice whispered loudly. “Lest she asks to borrow money from us.”
“I wonder,” the driver said, turning to me, “what the look on their faces will be when they see this gift—worth tens of millions—in the future.”
He turned and walked back to the sleek, black, unmarked car that had just pulled up. It wasn’t a Mercedes. It was a Rolls-Royce.
“Don’t bother about them,” I told him as I got in, the door shutting with a heavy, satisfying thunk. The Larssons just stood on their porch, their mouths slightly open.
“You said my father… he isn’t from a poverty-stricken county?”
“Please, Ms. Charice,” the driver said, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
“That place is the master’s legal domicile. He left that place long ago.”
“Then my father…”
“My apologies, Ms. Charice. Master is very low-profile. Before I came over, he reminded me repeatedly not to talk about family affairs when outside.” He paused.
“I can only tell you that the master’s family name is McNort. As for the specifics, it’s best for the master to tell you himself after you reach home.”
McNort. The name echoed in my mind, but it meant nothing. Not yet.
As we pulled away, my phone buzzed. A text from my assistant, Nandel. ‘Madam Larson woke up just now. Repeatedly asking for you.’
My heart seized.
“Stop the car,” I said.
The driver looked alarmed.
“Ms. Charice?”
“I have to go to the hospital. Find a place and wait for me. I must see Madam Larson before I leave.”
“But… the Larsson family treats you so badly.”
“Madam Larson,” I said, my voice hardening, “is different from her son and daughter-in-law. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her.”
“Understood,” he said, pulling over.
I got out and flagged a cab. Nandel was right. I’d been covering James’s business losses for years. I’d been the one supplying Grandma Larson’s heart medication—experimental pills that cost millions apiece. She was the only reason I’d stayed. She was the only one who had ever seen me.
When I was a teenager, lost and invisible in that cold house, she was the one who saw my intellect. She put her own dignity on the line, calling in favors she hadn’t used in decades, to get the “Five Venerables”—masters of finance, medicine, music, IT, and design—to take me on as a student.
I owed her everything. The Larssons? They were just a debt I was finally done paying.
The hospital was its usual brand of sterile chaos. I bypassed the main wing and headed for the cardiac ICU, texting Nandel to update her. As I rounded the corner, I ran straight into a wall of panicked doctors.
“Make way! Make way!”
“Mr. Finn said he can only be here in 20 minutes!”
“Master Edmund is in a critical state! What should we do?”
“Wait! No buts! We can’t afford to incur Mr. Finn’s wrath! Find a way to keep Master Edmund breathing!”
I glanced through the glass. An old man, Master Edmund, was on the bed, his face a waxy gray. His vitals were crashing. They were killing him with incompetence.
“I can save him,” I said, stepping into the room.
The doctors stared at me. “Who are you?”
“He’ll be long dead by the time his family members arrive,” I said, already reading his chart.
“Rheumatic heart disease. This isn’t that difficult to treat.”
A woman with ‘Deputy Director Childs’ on her coat sneered at me.
“You… you have medical knowledge?”
“Who said that Master Edmund won’t be able to hold on?” another doctor argued.
“Inject a dose of tranquilizers and calcium channel blockers! We’ll see when Mr. Finn comes!”
I slapped the syringe out of his hand. “You foolish doctors! Are you really clueless about his condition? If you inject him with those medications, he might experience terminal lucidity, but I guarantee he’ll die in half an hour!”
“What’s the point of talking with no action?” Childs shot back.
“Do you know that Master Edmund has undergone five surgeries? The success rate of any new surgery is less than 10%! What I proposed is the best solution!”
“If anything bad happens to Grandpa,” a new, cold voice said from the doorway, “I’ll make sure Greenwire Hospital goes bankrupt.”
A young man, radiating pure, cold power, strode into the room. Spencer Finn. I knew the name. His family didn’t just have money; they were money.
“Mr. Finn,” Childs stammered, bowing.
“You,” he said, his eyes locking on me.
“You seem to know much about this condition. Do you have a better solution?”
“As a hospital deputy director,” I said, ignoring him and glaring at Childs, “how could you not even know about heart valve replacement surgery?”
Childs laughed.
“How dare you? Putting on airs with a professional terminology you heard from God-knows-where. Don’t you know that the legendary Dr. Sher is the only one in the entire world who can do such a surgery? You want to do it? Fine! Go ahead! If you succeed, not only will I pay you however much you charge, I’ll even kneel and call you ‘God’!”
I smiled. Madam Larson’s hospital fees were piling up.
“Sure. Remember what you just said.”
“Miss, are you really going to do the surgery?” a young nurse asked, her eyes wide.
“Do you have a death wish?” Childs hissed.
“This patient is Mr. Spencer Finn’s grandfather! The only family on par with him in Greenwire is the wealthy McNort family! If anything happens to Master Edmund, 10 of your lives wouldn’t be enough!”
“A doctor must have compassion,” I said, pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Who taught you to treat wealthy and poor patients differently? Fine. Go ahead if you want to. I’ll see how you’ll answer for it when Master Edmund dies on the operating table.”
I turned to the nurse. “Get Elias Thompson here to assist me.”
The room went dead silent.
“You’re getting crazier by the minute!” Childs shrieked.
“Do you not know that Director Thompson is the top doctor of the cardio department? Countless rich and famous people fight to have him as their main surgeon! How dare you ask him to be your assistant?”
I just picked up my phone.
“Elias, come here for a bit.”
“How dare you call our director by his first name!” Childs was apoplectic.
“I’ll see how you get thrown out!”
A moment later, the head of cardiology himself, Dr. Elias Thompson, bustled in.
“What’s the matter, Charice?”
“Director Thompson,” Childs smirked, “this brat insists on making you her assistant. Teach her a lesson.”
Elias looked at Childs, then at me.
“Charice? Is what she said true? Do you… do you really want me as your assistant?”
“Yes,” I said, tying my mask.
His face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Sure! Of course! I won’t disappoint you!”
Childs’s face crumpled.
“Director… are you mistaken?”
“What do you know?” Elias snapped.
“Being ‘Cherish’s’ assistant is a lifelong honor for me!”
Wait. He used my designer name. He was flustered.
“Who,” I cut in, “wanted to throw me out just now? Who should be thrown out now? Get out. We need to perform the surgery immediately.”
“What… what is going on?” Childs stammered as Elias physically pushed her from the OR.
“Director Thompson usually behaves so arrogantly…”
I ignored her. I looked at Spencer Finn, who was watching me with a look of pure, calculating intensity.
“Family member. What’s the matter?”
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“The patient’s heart rate is dropping. We can’t wait any longer, Mr. Finn.”
“Right,” he growled.
“I don’t care who you are. You probably know about the patient’s condition. I have no time to waste explaining.”
“Since you know who I am,” he threatened, “you should know the consequences of disregarding my grandfather’s life.”
“I’ve already been authorized by the hospital to be his doctor in charge,” I said, my voice muffled by the mask.
“I have the right to administer emergency treatment. I don’t need to explain anything to anyone. Scalpel.”
The surgery was a masterpiece.
Elias was a good assistant, but he was sweating, his hands trembling as I performed maneuvers he’d only read about in textbooks. The heart valve replacement was complex, especially on a heart that was 90% scar tissue.
“She’s the one operating,” I heard Childs whispering outside to Spencer’s assistant.
“We couldn’t stop her. It has nothing to do with us. Seems like she’s tired of living.”
I ignored them. I was in the zone. This was what Dr. Sher did. It was just another part of me.
“Heart rate dropping… stop… she’s flatlining!” Elias panicked.
“Mr. Finn!” Childs screamed from outside.
“Master Edmund’s operation failed! His heart suddenly stopped!”
“Bring her over right now,” Spencer’s voice boomed.
I didn’t even look up.
“Calm down, Elias. I did that. We’re stopping the heart. It’s an essential part of the surgery.” I finished the final suture. “Restart.”
The beep… beep… beep… of the heart monitor filling the room was the single most beautiful sound in the world.
I stripped off my bloody gloves and walked out of the OR. Spencer Finn was there, flanked by two men who looked like they broke bones for a living.
“I gave you a chance,” he seethed.
“Now that you’ve killed my grandfather, you should know the consequences. Bring her away and bury her alive.”
His men grabbed my arms.
“Charice! Are you all right?” Elias yelled, running out.
“Mr. Finn,” I said, my voice tired.
“Is this how you treat your savior? Stopping the heart from beating is an essential part of the surgery. Master Edmund’s surgery was a success. He can be removed from the ventilator tomorrow.”
“That’s impossible!” Childs shrieked.
“He doesn’t have much tissue left for stitching! Artificial heart valve replacement is practically impossible!”
“Just because you’re an incapable doctor,” I snapped, “doesn’t mean that others are incapable, too.”
“I don’t believe this!” Childs yelled.
“She must be buying time to escape!”
Just then, Spencer’s assistant ran up, his phone out.
“Mr. Finn! Master Edmund is out of danger! We brought other doctors to check… they’re all… they’re all clamoring to consult with this doctor. They’re saying… she’s a legendary doctor of our time.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. He looked at me, really looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time.
“Not going to kill me anymore now?” I asked, yanking my arms free.
“Quinn,” he said to his assistant.
“Ms. Charice,” Quinn said, holding out a black, metallic credit card.
“This is a token of appreciation from Mr. Finn. $150 million. There’s no pin required.”
I took the card.
“Okay, I’ll take this as my fees.” I then pulled out my own phone, opened my banking app, and tapped a few times. Spencer’s phone pinged.
“Oh, right,” I said.
“You give me your payment account details. $1.50 has been transferred to your account. That money is for you to buy an elementary school textbook and learn what good manners are.”
Quinn stifled a laugh. Spencer just stared at me.
“This woman,” he murmured, “is interesting.”
“Quinn,” I said, “did you not hear what this lady said? Do as she said. Okay.”
“The next of kin has already paid,” I said, turning to the slack-jawed Dr. Childs.
“Now it’s time for you to keep up your end of the deal.”
“What… what are you talking about?”
“Who was it,” I said, my voice ringing in the quiet corridor, “who said just now that if I could treat Master Edmund Finn, she would kneel in apology and even call her ‘God’?”
“I… I never said that! Do you have proof?”
“Deputy Director Childs,” Elias said, stepping forward, “many people heard what you said.”
“I’m not in the wrong!” she shrieked. “I’m not apologizing!”
“You brat!” she lunged at me. I didn’t even flinch. Spencer’s bodyguards caught her.
“I told you to keep up your end of the deal and kneel,” I said.
“You don’t need to call me ‘God.’ After all, I don’t need a lowly human who disregards human life as a follower.”
“Nonsense!” she screamed, struggling.
“Mr. Finn, I never did anything! She’s slandering me!”
“You know clear well what you’ve done,” I said, my voice dropping to ice.
“You knew that if you injected tranquilizers and calcium channel blockers, even the best doctors in the world wouldn’t be able to save him. Yet, you did something potentially fatal to the patient when we could still save him. What was your ulterior motive?”
“Save it,” Spencer said.
“Convey to the hospital director that someone like her does not deserve to be a doctor. I don’t want to see her working in this line anymore. Kick her out.”
“I’m not leaving! What right do you have?”
“From today on,” Spencer said, “no one from the Childs family is allowed to step into Greenwire.”
“Mr. Finn! You can’t!” she sobbed as she was dragged away.
Spencer turned to me.
“Leave Master Edmund’s post-surgery care in your hands. I’ll make a move first.”
“Wait,” I said. He turned.
“Did you see a lady in scrubs walk past just now?”
He looked confused.
“I think she has left.”
I needed to see Grandma.
“I remember now,” I lied.
“She seemed to be here this morning to visit a relative. She registered her name. Take a look.”
He motioned to Quinn, who pulled up the registry. His eyes scanned it.
“Charice,” he read. He looked at me, a question in his eyes.
I just smiled and walked away.
I finally made it to Madam Larson’s wing. The McNort driver was waiting patiently.
“Ms. Charice,” he said, opening the car door. We drove in silence, leaving the city behind, climbing into the hills, into an area of Greenwire I never knew existed. We passed through a massive, unmarked gate and drove for another ten minutes through a pristine forest before a house—no, a palace—came into view.
“Welcome home, Ms. Charice. This way, please.”
I walked into a grand hall. A man stood at the top of the stairs, his hair graying at the temples, his eyes… my eyes. He was crying.
“Charice,” he whispered.
“I’ve finally found you. Let me take a good look at you.”
This was my father. Emory McNort. The richest man in Greenwire. The “vagrant” James Larsson had mocked.
“How have you been with the Larssons?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
“Was everything okay?”
“Yes, master,” the driver, Warren, stepped in.
“Ms. Charice said that just so you wouldn’t worry. The Larssons… they never even gave Ms. Charice a decent set of clothes.”
“What?” My father’s face darkened.
“How could they treat you like that? It’s fine. It’s all over now. All right, Charice. This is your home from now on. I will make it up to you. Come, I’ll bring you to your room.”
He led me down a hall, and I stopped. On the wall was a painting.
“This is the authentic work of Remy Reborn,” I breathed.
“The master of medieval art. This painting is priceless. It can’t be bought with money alone.”
“My darling daughter has a good eye for this!” he beamed.
“Quick! Since Charice likes it, move this to her room!”
“No!” I said.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m just saying… this painting might stick out like a sore thumb amidst other contemporary artworks. Placing it in a tea room that feels quaint and antique will accentuate its charm.”
“My darling daughter has good taste!” he declared.
“Master,” a sharp, female voice cut in.
“This painting is worth $45 million. Ms. Lisa specially selected this most conspicuous spot so that everyone who steps in will think that the McNort family is wealthy and prosperous. You thought it was a good idea, too.”
A young woman, beautiful and cold, glided into the hall. Lisa. The girl I was swapped with.
“You talk too much,” my father said to the maid. He turned to me.
“Charice, things at home are a little complicated. I’ll chat more with you about it next time. This is your room. Come, sit down.”
He explained everything. The small hospital. The preterm labor. The fire. The panic. The mix-up.
“That night,” he said, “your mother and Mrs. Larsson were the only pregnant ladies there. There’s no mistake.”
“In that case,” I said, “that Ms. Lisa… she’s the Larssons’ real daughter.”
“Yes,” he sighed.
“That’s also put me in a difficult spot. Back then, I kept wanting to send Lisa back, but Mrs. Larsson—Alice Shelton—kept stalling me with excuses. In the end, she even stopped answering my calls. They probably don’t want to acknowledge Lisa as their daughter.”
“Does James Larsson know about this?”
“Probably not. At that time, Mrs. Larsson was always the one contacting me. Is there a problem?”
“Nothing. Just curious.” Alice Shelton had played a deep, deep game.
“Charice,” my father said, taking my hand.
“I’ve raised Lisa for 20 years. I can’t really bear to see her homeless. I want to let her stay here… but I have to ask you about this. If you don’t agree, I’ll arrange for her to move elsewhere.”
“As long as she doesn’t bother me,” I said, “I’m fine with any arrangement you make.”
He smiled, relieved.
“Okay, my darling daughter. Don’t you worry. I’ll definitely make it up to you.”
The moment he left, I was on the phone.
“Nandel. Help me investigate whether the fire that broke out when Alice Shelton was giving birth was premeditated or an accident.”
“Why? Is there an issue with your birth?”
“Just do it. And Nandel… I’m running out of the herb for Madam Larson’s medication. Restock it as soon as possible.”
“About that… it’s on auction. But it’s very tough to get. Mr. Spencer Finn has his eye on that herb, too.”
“Him again,” I muttered. “Should we still attend?”
“Yes,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face.
“Why not? I’ve got to meet this Mr. Finn.”
The next day, Nandel herself arrived. Not as my assistant, but as the manager of ‘Cherish,’ the anonymous, high-fashion design label I’d founded. She was delivering a hundred sets of custom-ordered clothes.
“Ms. Nandel,” Lisa said, sweeping into the room.
“I’m back. I’m the eldest daughter of the McNort family. It’s said that the pieces that Cherish designs are top-notch… each piece costs hundreds of thousands. They seem like no big deal to me.”
Nandel’s face went rigid.
“I’m sorry that our pieces are not to your satisfaction. I won’t bother you any longer. Oh, right. Cherish has a rule… if the customer does not like our clothes, that means she is incompatible with our design philosophy. From that moment on, Cherish will not sell a single piece of clothing to her.”
“Wait!” Lisa panicked.
“Don’t be so hasty! It’s not all that bad. I’ll just try them on.”
“Ms. Lisa,” Nandel said, “these clothes aren’t for you. They’re for Ms. McNort.”
“What are you talking about? Aren’t I Ms. McNort?”
Just then, my father walked in.
“Charice! You’re here. It is an honor for elites of Greenwire to wear clothes designed by this designer. Come over and take a look.”
“I have enough clothes,” I said.
“Lisa,” my father said, “why are you back early?”
“I wanted to surprise you, Dad. Which poor relative from the countryside is this? She’s dressed so shabbily.”
Nandel’s eyes went wide. She looked from Lisa, to me, and back.
“She is Lisa,” my father said.
“Lisa, don’t fool around. She is your elder sister. Greet her. These clothes… are all for your elder sister.”
“Dad! You’re being overly kind!” Lisa protested.
“We can’t just let these people suck us dry! Is she even fit to wear these expensive clothes? Give her $30 and send her away.”
“ENOUGH!” my father roared. “She is my biological daughter. The real daughter of the McNort family! Warren, bring her away.”
“Dad! What did you just say?” Lisa shrieked as the driver escorted her out.
My father turned to Nandel.
“Ms. Nandel, pardon me. Allow me to introduce you. This is my daughter, Charice McNort.”
Nandel looked at me, her professional mask crumbling.
“You’re… Miss McNort? The daughter of the richest man in Greenwire?”
“Hi, Ms. Nandel,” I said with a small wave.
“Ms. Nandel,” my father said, “do you know Charice?”
“I… I don’t. Ah, yes. I don’t know her at all,” Nandel stammered.
“I thought the names Charice and ‘Cherish’ sound so similar that you might just know each other,” my father mused.
I grabbed Nandel’s arm.
“Ms. Nandel, why don’t you come with me as I try them on?”
The second my bedroom door closed, Nandel exploded.
“YOU’RE A MCNORT? The richest family in Greenwire? I’m jealous! Why are you born lucky and capable of earning money?”
“That’s what the Larssons meant by ‘vagrant.’ A jobless vagrant,” I said, sinking onto the bed.
“Let’s not talk about this. The auction for the herb. We have to go.”
The auction was a masquerade. Literally. All the high-rollers were in masks.
“The remnant scum from when you concocted the heart medication,” Nandel whispered, pointing to the stage.
“They’re calling it ‘heart relaxant powder.’ They’re starting the bid at 150,000.”
“Let them be,” I said. “Call me when the herb is up.”
I was half-asleep when I heard Lisa’s voice.
“Are you sure buying the heart relaxant powder will impress him?”
I peeked. She was there, with a maid.
“Miss, don’t worry!” the maid said.
“This powder is a raw ingredient from the legendary Dr. Sher! It’s guaranteed to make Master Edmund feel better. You’re bound to be Mrs. Finn!”
My trash. She was buying my trash to impress Spencer Finn. She won the bid for $375,000.
“Next collector’s item,” the auctioneer said.
“The herb. Starting bid, 450,000.”
A sign in the front row went up.
“1.5 million.”
“There’s no need to guess who that is,” Nandel sighed.
“Spencer Finn. You still want to outbid him?”
“For the sake of Madam Larson, I must get the herb today.” I held up my paddle.
“1.65 million.”
The room went silent. Someone was challenging Finn.
“2.25 million,” his paddle went up instantly.
“2.4 million,” I bid.
Silence.
“2.4 million going once… going twice… SOLD.”
“Great!” Nandel cheered.
“We got it!”
My phone rang. An unknown number.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hello. It’s me. Spencer Finn.”
My blood ran cold.
“Um, what’s wrong?”
“My grandfather’s condition suddenly worsened. Please go over and take a look.”
“How could it be? The surgery was a success.”
“He took… ‘heart relaxant powder’ that a friend sent over.”
“Ridiculous!” I snapped.
“I’ll go over right now. Where are you?”
“Nearby Hoyerman Hotel.”
“I’m there, too,” I said, standing up. I walked out of the auction room and straight into him. He was standing by the door, his phone still to his ear.
“It’s Miss Charice,” his driver, Quinn, said, spotting me.
“I knew she was around… wait. That lipstick color. Isn’t that the car that honked at me?”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. He looked at my mask, then at my face.
“Isn’t your grandpa in critical condition?” I said, pulling off the mask.
“We’d better hurry.”
The car ride was tense.
“Miss Charice, you’re so highly medically skilled,” Quinn chattered from the front seat.
“How old are you?”
“I’m 20.”
“20! It’s about time for you to be in a relationship and get married! Isn’t that so, Mr. Finn?”
“Focus on driving,” Spencer growled.
“I think you and Miss Charice are a pretty good match,” Quinn pushed.
“Quinn Miller,” Spencer said, his voice deadly.
“My apologies!”
We got to the hospital. I saved Master Edmund. Again. This time from Lisa’s stupidity.
“Thank you once again,” Spencer said as I walked out.
“You must be hungry. Let me give you a treat.”
“No need. Someone still needs to take care of Master Edmund. Perhaps another day.”
As I was leaving, I ran straight into James and Alice Larsson.
“Charice! What are you doing here?” Alice shrieked.
“Pleading for mercy with mom so you can continue staying in our family?”
“Charice,” James said, pulling out a card.
“Here, there’s $75 in this card. It should be enough to cover one year’s expenses of your poor family. Take the money and leave.”
“Talking money with me now, are you?” I said, my patience gone.
“Let’s settle the debt you’ve owed me over the years. Today. It’s not much… about 150 million.”
“Are you crazy?” Alice lunged at me.
“I’ll rip your mouth to shreds!”
“Someone you can’t afford to offend,” a voice said. Spencer. He’d followed me. He grabbed Alice’s wrist.
“A bastard you hooked up with from God-knows-where!” James yelled, trying to grab me. Spencer’s bodyguard sent him flying.
“Let me go! It hurts!” Alice whimpered.
“Are you all right?” Spencer asked me, his face dark.
“I’m fine. Don’t bother about them. Let’s go.”
“Who do you think you are?” James sputtered from the floor.
“Wait… that man… he just walked out of the exclusive VIP ward for the Finn family. Could that be… Mr. Finn?”
“What are you thinking?” Alice scoffed.
“How could a tramp like Charice hook up with Mr. Finn? He’s probably just a bodyguard!”
I left them bickering in the hallway. Spencer insisted on driving me home.
“Thank you for today,” I said as we pulled up.
“You were busy the entire day, yet you refused to have a meal with me,” he said. He reached into the back.
“I heard that girls like eating sweets.” He handed me a box of delicate, expensive-looking chocolates.
“That’s quite thoughtful of you,” I said, surprised.
As I got out, a figure launched itself at the car.
“Mr. Finn! Mr. Finn, wait!” It was Lisa.
“Is that your girlfriend?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” he said, his face impassive.
“Just someone who made a mistake and wants to ask for mercy. I’m not close to her.”
“All right, then. I’ll make a move first. Bye-bye.”
I walked away, but I heard him say, “Come with me to the McNort family. I want to call off the betrothal with Lisa.”
I froze. He was betrothed… to Lisa?
That night, Spencer Finn showed up at my house.
“Mr. McNort,” he said to my father, who was beaming.
“To be honest, I came here today because of Ms. McNort.”
“Ah, yes,” my father said.
“Because this happened so suddenly, we haven’t had time to make a public announcement…”
“Dad, I’m home!” I said, walking in.
Spencer Finn, who had been looking bored and annoyed, froze. His eyes locked on me.
“Charice… McNort. This is the daughter of the McNort family?”
“Charice, come here,” my father said, pulling me forward.
“Let me introduce you. This is Spencer Finn. Spencer, what did you want to say just now?”
Spencer’s entire demeanor changed. The cold annoyance vanished, replaced by a slow, dangerous smile.
“Nothing,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I just heard that the real daughter of the McNort family has returned. I wanted to ask you… if you’re still willing to let your precious daughter marry me.”
“The betrothal stands!” my father declared.
“Charice, by right, he is your fiancée.”
Fiancée? These were little gifts I prepared for my fiancée,” Spencer said, holding out a cascade of boxes.
“Mr. Finn, you changed so fast,” I muttered.
“If you don’t like them, I can arrange for new gifts to be delivered.”
“I am… engaged to you?”
“Charice is shell-shocked,” my father laughed.
“Whatever you say, Mr. McNort,” Spencer said, his eyes still on me.
Lisa, who had been watching from the stairs, looked like she was going to be sick.
The next day, we were summoned to meet Master Edmund. He was thrilled. He gave me a priceless ancestral necklace. I, in turn, gave him one of the “sweet little pills” I’d concocted—the longevity pills only Dr. Sher could make.
Spencer’s eyes narrowed.
“From where did you buy so many of them?” he asked me later.
“Oh no,” I thought.
“I should have brought fewer pills.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, cornering me in the hallway.
“Regarding that longevity pill… my dear fiancée… do you have anything to tell me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to push past him.
“Seems like you are treating me, your fiancée, as an outsider,” he said, blocking my path. He leaned in.
“Forget it. Ms. McNort, please go home yourself. I’ll be off.”
He just… left me. In the middle of nowhere.
“Spencer Finn, you idiot!” I yelled at his retreating car.
He was testing me. He knew. Or at least, he suspected.
The next day, a fake medical emergency call came in.
“Dr. Sher? We have a patient with cerebral hemorrhage at Starlight Restaurant.”
I rushed over, only to find Spencer Finn sitting alone at a candlelit table, surrounded by flowers.
“Hello, legendary Dr. Sher,” he said, standing up.
“You’re the patient with cerebral hemorrhage?”
“You’re childish.”
“Hey, Spencer Finn, what do you mean by this?”
“I’m inviting my legendary doctor fiancée to dinner. Any problems with that?”
“Take a seat,” he said.
“If you walk out that door today, I’m not sure how many people will find out the true identity of legendary Dr. Sher.”
“You… shameless.”
“Mr. Finn made this chocolate by hand,” Quinn said, appearing with a tray.
“He wanted to give you a diamond ring, but he was worried it might frighten you on the first date.”
“Get out,” Spencer growled at him.
I sat. The chocolate was… actually good.
Our dinner was interrupted by Lisa, who’d been tipped off by a hotel manager and thought the romantic setup was for her. She’d even brought her friends to take pictures.
“Who dares to touch my fiancée?” Spencer said, standing up and pulling me to his side.
The public humiliation was brutal. Lisa’s “friends” abandoned her. She was a laughingstock.
But she wasn’t done. She found out about Spencer’s maternal grandfather, a music aficionado, and decided to win him over by winning the National Piano Competition.
There was only one problem. She stole the sheet music from my room.
At the competition, she played beautifully.
“The champion,” the announcer declared, “is ‘Sorrow,’ performed by Lisa McNort!”
“Dad, did you hear that? I’m the champion!” she cheered.
“Charice, did you hear that? Are you convinced now? I just want Charice to apologize to me and acknowledge my musical standard.”
“You know very well where your score came from,” I said.
The head judge, Michael Chandler, walked on stage.
“I am very impressed with your piece, ‘Sorrow.’ I agree that this piece is the champion. But I refuse to present the award to Lisa McNort.”
“What? Why?”
“Because,” Chandler said, “she doesn’t deserve it. The piece she played is a practice score that the Master of Chambers gave me. Because the Master found this piece too simple, she did not publish it. Lisa McNort, do you dare claim you did not steal this score?”
“What! I didn’t steal anything! You… Charice instigated this!” Lisa shrieked.
“You’re ruining the reputation of the Master! If you’re so sure, let her prove it!”
“Fine,” I said. I walked on stage, sat at the piano, and played her piece. Backwards. Perfectly.
“All of the Master of Chambers’ scores can still be beautiful melodies even when played in reverse,” Chandler announced to the stunned audience.
“She is the Master of Chambers.”
Lisa was disgraced. Again.
But this time, the Larssons, having seen my name in the papers, showed up at the engagement dinner my father threw for me and Spencer.
“Hello everyone,” Alice Shelton’s face appeared on the main screen, her eyes red from crying.
“I am Charice McNort’s adoptive mother. I recorded this video in hopes that everyone will help me… persuade Charice not to continue being so depraved… fooling around with so many men…”
Photos flashed on the screen. Me. Kissing men I’d never seen. Indecent, awful, fake photos.
“Charice,” Spencer’s grandfather said, his face grim.
“What exactly is going on? I need an explanation.”
“Yes, Sheree,” a man’s voice said, as three men walked into the banquet hall.
“We were so happy fooling around. Did you sleep with so many people that you forgot us all?”
“She said sleeping around can enhance her skills,” another one sneered.
“Grandad,” Spencer said, his voice ringing with authority.
“I trust Charice.”
“You can’t!” Alice shrieked, bursting in with James.
“These are all the men she has slept with!”
Lisa was behind them, a look of pure, venomous triumph on her face.
I just walked to the main console. “Is there a laptop around?”
I plugged it in. My fingers flew across the keys.
“Look,” I said, as the main screen changed.
“This code… is the code of the IT genius ‘Ree.’ She has that code written in every program.”
“Goodness!” someone whispered.
“She is IT genius Ree!”
“The original copies of those photos have been found,” I announced.
“The lady in the photo isn’t Charice. These men are liars.” I brought up the raw files, showing the metadata, the photoshop layers. It took me 30 seconds.
“Still trying to deny it?” I asked the Larssons, whose faces had gone white.
“On account of how you’ve raised Charice for 20 years,” my father roared, “I bore with it! Quinn! Keep a close watch. The Larssons’ time in Greenwire is up!”
“Wait,” I said. Everyone looked at me.
“There’s no need to dirty our hands. From what I know, the Larssons are nothing but an empty shell, surviving solely on money from… Chairing Ventures.”
My assistant, Nandel, stepped out from the crowd.
“Greetings, CEO Charice.”
The room exploded.
“My daughter,” my father whispered, “is the queen of venture capitalists?”
“Chloe,” I said into my phone, “stop all cooperation Chairing Ventures has with the Larssons’ core.”
“CEO Charice,” Nandel announced, “over the years, the Finn family has outsourced minor projects to the Larssons. And our businesses… well, as long as they stay in Greenwire, they won’t be able to buy a single grain of rice or a single piece of clothing.”
“We’re doomed,” James collapsed. “Totally doomed.”
“All scores have been settled today,” I said.
“Now, Lisa. Do you really think I was the richest man of Greenwire for 30 years in vain? Would I not be able to find out who framed my biological daughter?” my father said
“Warren, see them out.”
He was giving her one last chance.
It was a chance she didn’t take.
The final blow wasn’t aimed at me. It was aimed at the only person I truly loved.
I got the call from Elias.
“Charice… Madam Larson… she’s… gone.”
I ran. The hospital room was a wreck. Grandma was on the floor, her eyes open, lifeless.
“Who did this?” I screamed, my ‘Dr. Sher’ instincts taking over, trying to find a pulse I knew wasn’t there.
“Check the surveillance cameras!”
“Someone destroyed the surveillance room,” Elias said, his voice broken.
“Charice,” a voice said. Lisa. She was standing in the doorway with Alice and… a police officer.
“Don’t deflect your guilt by accusing others. I saw it. I saw with my own eyes… she strangled Grandma to death.”
The world went silent.
“Ms. McNort,” the officer said, “please come with us.”
I was arrested. Charged with the murder of the only woman I’d ever loved as a mother.
At the station, Spencer was waiting.
“The bail is 1.5 billion,” he said.
“I don’t have it,” I whispered.
“It’s all tied up.”
“I know,” he said.
“Charice,” he said, his voice low.
“I know what happened. But with the surveillance gone… they have three witnesses. Lisa, Alice, and Dr. Childs, who ‘happened’ to be there. We need to play this smart.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to break up,” he said.
And so we did. Publicly. “Do I, Spencer Finn, lack women?” he told the press.
“Must I be with someone as heartless as Charice McNort?”
It was the most painful thing I’d ever done, but I understood. To catch Lisa, she had to believe she’d won.
Lisa, now in control of Madam Larson’s (forged) will and her 1.8 billion in assets, was on top of the world. Spencer immediately started “dating” her. He fed her ego. He told her about a “hot” piece of land up for auction, a “guaranteed” 10-fold return.
The auction was the final stage.
“Starting bid is 150 million,” the auctioneer said.
“600 million,” I bid, using the last of the money my father had scraped together.
“1.2 billion,” Lisa bid, smiling at me.
“1.5 billion,” I countered.
“1.8 billion!” she yelled. She was all in.
“1.8 billion going once…”
“Lisa,” her mother, Alice, hissed.
“That’s all our money!”
“1.8 billion going twice…”
“Charice,” Spencer whispered to me, “I’ll see how you outbid me.” He was playing his part.
“1.95 billion!”
Lisa screamed. She’d lost.
“1.95 billion going thrice,” the auctioneer said.
“SOLD… to Ms. Lisa Larson!”
My head snapped up. What?
“Ms. Larson,” Spencer said, taking the microphone.
“My apologies. I must have been mistaken. My bid was 1.8 billion. Your bid of 1.95 billion… actually… wins.”
Lisa’s face was a mask of confusion, then slow, dawning horror.
“You… you…”
“Me?” Spencer said, smiling.
“To be honest, the piece of land you just bought is an abandoned piece of desert that belongs to the Finn family. You can’t do anything with it. You even have to pay maintenance fees every month… about 7.5 million.”
“Mr. Finn!” a man ran up.
“The buyer’s funds have been transferred to your account.”
“Transfer it to Charice’s account,” Spencer said, taking my hand.
“In my family, my wife handles the money.”
“You… you’re in cahoots!” Lisa shrieked.
“You’re a fraud! I’m calling the police!”
“Call the police?” I said, stepping forward.
“You really are a fool. Quinn, did you think your entire family was made up of fools? Do you think you’d be fine just because you destroyed the data?”
I held up my phone. “As IT genius ‘Ree,’ I’m sure you know the Global Hackers Alliance launched a massive attack long ago. The data from the hospital’s surveillance cameras? It was long recovered.”
I hit play.
The video showed it all. Lisa and Alice, demanding the money. Grandma refusing. And Lisa… her hands around Grandma’s throat.
“Go to hell!” Lisa screamed, pulling a knife from her purse and lunging at me.
She was fast. But I was faster. A single move, a twist of the wrist, and she was on the floor, the knife skittering away.
“Officers,” I said to the police who had just entered, “I caught the murderer. Take her away.”
Everything was over. The Larssons were in jail. Lisa was on trial for murder. My name was cleared. But I couldn’t rest. I stood at Madam Larson’s grave.
“I had wanted Grandma to meet Spencer,” I whispered to my father.
“But there’s no chance for that.”
“Don’t worry,” a voice said. Spencer.
“Madam Larson will agree to it.”
“Spencer,” I said, “after Grandma’s condition stabilizes, I’ll bring you to her. You must put your best foot forward.” I’d said that to him, before.
“All right, I got it,” he said, smiling.
He knelt. Not before me, but at the grave.
“Madam Larson,” he said.
“I’m Spencer. I know Charice wanted you to meet me. I promise… I’ll take care of her.”
Then he stood, turned to me, and held out a ring.
“Charice,” he said.
“We went through so many things together. How long are you going to make me wait?”
I looked at him. The man who had threatened to bury me alive, who had trapped me, who had lied to me, and who had, in the end, given me back my life.
“No,” I said, smiling.
“No?”
“We aren’t married yet,” I said.
He laughed, relief flooding his face.
“Dad has already given me your identification documents. We’ll register our marriage tomorrow morning. Mrs. Finn.”
The wedding was… a blur. What I remember is the peace.
Three months later, Spencer walked into our bedroom.
“Mrs. Finn,” he said.
“Bad news. Miss Charice left a note and sneaked off. What should we do?”
He was holding a note. My handwriting. ‘Launch a global search operation.’
He found me, of course. Not in Paris, not in Tokyo. He found me at a university, in a lecture hall.
“Professor Sir,” a student said, “are you here yet?”
“Right away,” I said, adjusting my glasses.
Spencer was leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, a look of utter exasperation on his face.
“You’re… Professor Sir?” he mouthed.
I just smiled.
“Girl,” I’d told him once, “you aren’t the only one with secrets. Quick, get back to class. Otherwise, I’ll fail you.”
He slid into a seat.
“Good afternoon, students,” I said, beginning my lecture.
The game was finally over. And for the first time, I had finally, truly, won.
