Chapter 2

Back in her room, Nayeli locked the door and finally let herself collapse to the floor.

Looking at her hands and feet—now completely healed—she couldn't hold back her laughter.

She laughed and laughed, until tears streamed down her face.

She was back. She was really back.

The tragedy hadn't happened yet. She still had a chance to change everything.

Eighteen years ago, she and Lucia were born in the same hospital and accidentally switched by a nurse.

Later, when their parents died in separate accidents, Lucia was taken in by the McCarthy brothers.

Lucia lived in luxury at the McCarthy house, pampered and adored, while Nayeli grew up in the slums—starving, struggling, beaten by her foster father.

When she turned fifteen, the McCarthys discovered the truth and brought her home.

She thought the nightmare was over. She had no idea the real nightmare was just beginning.

The moment her brothers met her—quiet, withdrawn—the scales tipped in favor of Lucia, the elegant, graceful girl they'd raised.

Eldest brother Kason: "Lucia's been part of this family for twelve years. Bonds aren't determined by blood."

Second brother Nehemiah: "Nayeli, you need to be understanding. Lucia just found out she's not our biological sister. She's hurting."

Fourth brother Miguel: "Who do you think you are, trying to compete with Lucia?"

For three years, she walked on eggshells, bent over backward trying to please everyone. But she was always the outsider.

Meanwhile, Lucia remained the McCarthy family's precious little princess.

The brothers threw this whole recognition banquet to spare Lucia's feelings—so she wouldn't feel like she was "living under someone else's roof."

And it was at this banquet that her life spiraled into hell.

Just as she was lost in thought, her phone buzzed.

Nayeli glanced down. A message from Lucia:

[Nayeli, you're still coming to the banquet tonight, right? My brothers said if you just apologize, they won't hold it against you anymore. Oh, and that free skate routine of yours is really amazing—Nehemiah said he's giving it to me. You're not mad, are you?]

Nayeli let out a cold laugh and tossed her phone onto the bed.

Mad? Not at all.

Did Lucia really think she could just take whatever she wanted?

In her past life, Lucia had stolen that routine but couldn't execute the high-difficulty moves. She'd taken banned substances before competing. If Kason hadn't intervened, she would've been banned from competition for life.

This time around, Lucia wouldn't be so lucky.

A cold smile curved Nayeli's lips as she turned and walked out of the room.

——

Downstairs, the banquet hall blazed with light.

Nehemiah and Lucia stood side by side in front of the champagne tower. Miguel chatted and laughed with guests nearby.

The three of them looked like a real family.

"Master Nehemiah, the Eldest Miss McCarthy hasn't come down yet," a servant whispered.

Nehemiah frowned, about to respond, when footsteps echoed from the staircase.

Everyone turned to look.

Nayeli descended slowly, wearing an old hoodie and faded jeans, a canvas bag in her hand.

The room fell silent for a beat. Guests exchanged glances—most mocking, some disdainful.

Triumph flashed in Lucia's eyes, quickly replaced by a look of concern.

"Why is Nayeli dressed like that? Is she still mad at me? I know I took her place. If she's unhappy, I can leave…"

Her voice cracked, and tears spilled down her cheeks.

Miguel's expression darkened. "Nayeli, you did this on purpose! Showing up like this to embarrass us? Lucia's already been through enough—what more do you want?"

Nehemiah's brow furrowed. "Go change. Stop making a scene. Kason's already made his decision about Lucia. Whether you accept it or not, she'll always be part of this family."

Nayeli ignored them and walked straight to the projection screen on the side of the hall.

She pulled a USB drive from her canvas bag and handed it to the servant manning the sound system.

"Play this."

The servant hesitated, glancing at Nehemiah.

Nehemiah's frown deepened. "Nayeli, what exactly are you trying to do?"

Nayeli let out a cold laugh, her tone dripping with mockery. "What's wrong, Nehemiah? Afraid of what people might see?"

Nehemiah's face hardened. He nodded to the servant.

The large screen lit up.

The footage showed this afternoon's pairs skating performance—Lucia and Nayeli executing a lift on the ice.

In the video, Nayeli held Lucia's waist securely, her form textbook-perfect.

At the peak of the lift, Lucia's left hand suddenly released Nayeli's shoulder. She jumped down on her own.

On landing, she bent her knees, cushioning the impact before deliberately collapsing onto the ice.

Meanwhile, Nayeli lost her balance from Lucia's sudden release and slammed her knee hard into the ice. Blood pooled beneath her.

Every frame was crystal clear. Undeniable.

The hall fell deathly silent.

Nayeli hit pause and turned to face her brothers, her voice eerily calm.

"See it clearly now? Who threw who? Who was really being 'deliberate'?"

Nehemiah's expression shifted.

Miguel stood frozen, mouth opening and closing, unable to form words.

Panic flickered in Lucia's eyes, quickly masked by a wounded, pitiful look.

"Nayeli, how could you edit a video to frame me? I know you don't like me, but you can't accuse me like this…"

Miguel immediately snapped into action, his voice thundering. "Nayeli! You actually faked surveillance footage to slander Lucia!"

Nehemiah's face darkened, disappointment lacing his tone. "Nayeli, I thought you were just being childish. I didn't realize you'd become this vicious."

Nayeli looked at them, a mocking smile playing at her lips—like she was staring at two idiots.

"Since you claim my video is fake, fine. Let's call the police."

Her words struck them silent.

"Let the police authenticate it. If it's fake, I'll get on my knees and apologize to Lucia. But if it's real—"

Her gaze sliced across Nehemiah and Miguel's faces like a blade.

"—you'll kneel in front of everyone here and apologize to me."

She was already pulling out her phone, dialing.

The call connected quickly. Just as Nayeli was about to speak, Lucia let out a pained cry and crumpled to the floor.

Miguel's face went white. He rushed over and caught her in his arms.

"Lucia! Lucia, what's wrong?"

Lucia's eyes were shut tight, her face deathly pale, lips trembling faintly. Her breathing came in shallow gasps.

Nehemiah hurried over, checking her pulse before barking at the servants:

"Quick! Get a doctor!"

The hall erupted into chaos.

Nayeli stood still, watching it all with cold detachment.

In her past life, she'd seen this trick from Lucia countless times.

Whenever she was about to be exposed, Lucia would fake a fainting spell. Then everyone would swarm around her, fussing and fretting, forgetting all their questions.

Miguel had already scooped Lucia into his arms and was rushing toward the exit. As he passed Nayeli, he stopped abruptly, glaring at her with pure venom.

"Nayeli, if anything happens to Lucia, I will never forgive you."

Nehemiah followed, his eyes filled with condemnation.

"Nayeli, you've disappointed me beyond words."

He strode out after Miguel.

Servants scrambled to follow. Guests stood awkwardly, unsure whether to leave or stay.

Nayeli stood alone in the center of the hall. She turned off the projector, slipped the USB drive into her pocket, and headed upstairs.

She never once looked back.

The banquet ended in disaster. Guests trickled out in clusters, gossiping about the night's drama.

Some pitied Nayeli. Some thought she'd gone too far. Most just filed it away as juicy gossip.

Back in her room, Nayeli noticed blood seeping through her knee again.

She bandaged the wound, then pulled out her phone and scrolled to a number she'd saved three years ago but never dialed.

Zaiden Lawson—a legendary figure in international figure skating, a gold-medal coach who'd trained three world champions.

Three years ago, Zaiden had spotted her talent at a junior selection event and personally called the McCarthy house, offering her a spot in his elite training program.

Before she could respond, Miguel had cornered her.

"Lucia needs Zaiden's coaching more than you do. Give her the spot."

In the end, Zaiden didn't take Lucia either. After watching her performance video, he'd said, "The talent gap is too wide."

This time, Nayeli wouldn't let the opportunity slip away. And she wouldn't let anyone make decisions for her ever again.

She hit dial. The phone rang twice before someone picked up.

"Mr. Lawson, this is Nayeli."

There was a pause on the other end, then a voice tinged with amusement:

"Nayeli? You finally called. Three years ago, I waited two months for your response. Eventually, your family's butler told me you'd decided to quit skating—that you wanted to give the opportunity to your sister."

"I never wanted to quit." Nayeli's voice was steady.

"My family refused on my behalf. I'm calling today to ask you—does that training spot still stand?"