Chapter 3
By the time I got home, dawn was breaking.
Daniel wasn't in the bedroom.
His pillow was perfectly arranged, the covers untouched. But on my phone sat a message he'd sent half an hour earlier.
[Baby, something came up at the office.]
I stared at the words and suddenly remembered the wedding video — Vivian nestled against his shoulder.
So when he said "something came up," he meant climbing into another woman's marriage bed.
I didn't call him out on it. I just replied, "Okay."
Lucas had given me too many documents to go through. I read until eight in the morning.
In those files, I learned for the first time that over the past two years, Vivian had attended nine overseas conferences in my place.
The identity she used wasn't "the Harper family's second daughter."
It was "daughter of the Harper Group founder — sole heir to the brand."
My mother's maternity brand, Étoile, had released a gown collection last year that won an international award. The designer credited in the award photo was Vivian — but the gown had been designed from my own sketches.
I opened the cloud-based design library.
It was empty.
Every sketch I had saved from college through pregnancy — over a thousand drawings — had been erased.
Even the brand archives my mother left me had been transferred.
The access logs showed that every operation had been carried out from my personal device, verified by Joanna.
I called Joanna.
It rang for a long time before she picked up.
"Ms. Harper?"
Her voice was hoarse, as though she hadn't slept all night.
"Be at my house by ten."
"But the chairman asked me to accompany him to —"
"Joanna."
I cut her off.
"I didn't ask about your schedule."
Silence on the other end.
"Yes, ma'am."
At ten sharp, Joanna appeared in the study.
She had lost weight. Dark circles sat heavy beneath her eyes, and her fingers gripped her bag strap so tightly her knuckles were white.
I slid the overseas conference photographs across the desk.
"Explain."
One glance, and the color drained from her face.
"Ms. Harper, I..."
"Why does my electronic seal appear on Vivian's authorization documents?"
Joanna's lips trembled, but she couldn't answer.
I placed a hospital billing record in front of her.
The payee was a children's hospital. The patient shared Joanna's last name.
"Your brother had heart surgery last month."
Her head snapped up.
"You investigated me?"
"I just want to know why someone who has been with me for five years would suddenly betray me."
Joanna's tears spilled instantly.
She pulled an old phone from her bag and placed it on the desk.
"The chairman found out about my brother's surgery. He covered the first payment. Then he told me — if I handed over the electronic seal, he would take care of the rest of the treatment costs."
"So you gave it to him?"
"I had no choice."
"You could have told me."
She shook her head with a bitter smile.
"By then you were already pregnant. Daniel was with you every day. Every piece of company communication had to go through him first. The chairman said if I dared contact you, my brother would be discharged from the hospital immediately."
I turned on the old phone.
It contained dozens of screenshots and login records — the time of each unauthorized seal use, the operator, the receiving account. Every detail, meticulously preserved.
"Why did you keep all this?"
"Because I knew they wouldn't let me walk away."
Joanna wiped her tears.
"Once the Harper Group was theirs, the first person to disappear would be the witness."
I looked up at her.
"You want me to forgive you?"
"I wouldn't dare."
She slowly sank to her knees.
"I'm only begging you to save my brother."
I didn't help her up.
"Stand."
Joanna froze.
"People my mother raised don't beg on their knees."
She rose, eyes still red.
I held out a business card.
"Transfer your brother to this hospital. The costs will be managed and paid through my personal attorney."
Joanna didn't dare take it.
"You still trust me?"
"I don't."
I held her gaze, each word deliberate.
"Which is exactly why you're going back to my father's side. Keep working for him. Every document, every phone call, every person involved — you leave a trail."
She finally took the card. Her hand was shaking badly.
"I understand."
Before she left, she paused at the door.
"Ms. Harper — one more thing."
"Tomorrow, Vivian is going to debut as the new creative director of Étoile. The chairman has arranged a launch gala. He plans to have you publicly hand over your voting rights."
"Does Daniel know?"
"The entire gala was arranged by Daniel — for her."
After the study door closed, I sat in silence for a long time.
On the desk lay the anniversary album Daniel had given me.
I used to be afraid to touch it, worried I might damage it.
Now I flipped it open and discovered that every hotel from our honeymoon, every mountain, every cruise ship — Vivian had been there years before me.
Even the line Daniel used when he proposed — "a star fell into my life" — appeared in an old letter he had written to Vivian.
The memories I thought belonged only to me were nothing more than another woman's hand-me-downs.
My phone buzzed.
Daniel had sent a photo of a gown.
[Wear this one tomorrow. I want everyone to know that my Elena is the happiest woman in the city.]
I zoomed in.
Just below the waistline, the fabric was embroidered with my mother's signature starburst motif.
It was the last piece my mother ever made.
And now, it was being worn by Vivian.
