Chapter 9

Anna's POV

Vivian recoiled slightly under my gaze. A flash of panic crossed her face before she quickly concealed it.

She clearly hadn't expected me to talk back. For eighteen years, I'd been the obedient daughter who rarely questioned anything she said.

I could only guess what was going through her mind. Perhaps she was afraid I'd discovered something, yet still believed a secret they'd hidden for eighteen years couldn't possibly have come to light.

She quickly composed herself, putting on her familiar gentle expression.

"Anna, Mom is only worried about you..."

"You actually think you have the right to call yourself my mother?"

A cold laugh escaped me, but the words still left an ache in my chest.

For eighteen years, this woman had played the part of a devoted mother, indulging my every whim and making sure I never had to worry about anything. Now I understood why. She'd wanted to keep me naive and dependent, someone who would never question her or see through her lies.

In my previous life, I'd been foolish enough to treat my enemies as family. I'd trusted them with everything, and it had cost me everything.

"Anna! Is that any way to speak to your mother? Apologize to her right now!"

Harold's expression darkened. He straightened up, adopting the stern tone he'd always used whenever he wanted to put me in my place.

"All right." My eyes stung, and my voice trembled slightly. "Then tell me where my real mother is buried. Once I find her grave, I'll go there and apologize to her."

I knew what had motivated their so-called kindness all these years. It had never been affection. They'd been after the trust my mother left behind.

If the terms of the trust hadn't required me to reach adulthood and get married before accessing the funds, I had every reason to believe Vivian would have found a way to get rid of me long ago.

Harold blinked, clearly caught off guard. A moment later, he regained his stern expression.

"Anna, how can you say something so hurtful about your mother?"

"That's right, Anna. After everything Mom has done for you..."

Vivian's eyes reddened, and tears gathered along her lower lashes. She looked every bit like a mother whose love had been cruelly repaid.

In the past, that expression alone would have been enough to make me back down.

"Vivian Hartwell."

I raised my voice, making sure everyone in the room could hear me.

"Your daughter is Isabelle. I am Helena Ashford's daughter."

The moment I said those words aloud, the ache in my chest deepened.

Harold and Vivian both went pale. They exchanged a startled glance, and for the first time, I saw their composure falter.

I'd only uncovered the full truth in my previous life, shortly before I died.

Harold had been involved with Vivian long before my mother passed away. He had pursued Helena for her wealth, married her under false pretenses, and waited for the opportunity to get his hands on what she owned.

In those early years, they had lived in a small town outside the city. It wasn't until after Helena's death that Harold and Vivian moved to Manhattan.

I'd been seriously ill at the time, burning with a fever and barely conscious. In my confusion, I'd mistaken Vivian for my biological mother.

They'd simply allowed me to believe it. Neither of them had ever bothered to correct me.

By the time we moved to Manhattan, the people around us had no reason to question our family history. They'd kept the truth hidden for eighteen years, and clearly hadn't expected me to expose it now.

Patricia stiffened slightly. She glanced at me, confusion written across her face.

I could understand why. People outside the family had always spoken about how much the Hartwells doted on me. They'd treated me so generously that others had assumed I was the apple of their eye.

Looking back, I knew how calculated that affection had been. They'd indulged me to keep me gullible, making sure I'd never suspect what they were really after.

A moment later, Patricia reached out and pulled me gently against her side.

Then she looked at Harold and Vivian, her expression turning cold.

"Since Mrs. Hartwell isn't Anna's biological mother, she has no right to speak for her in the Sterling household."

Harold and Vivian's expressions fell. They exchanged another anxious glance, and the composure they'd been struggling to maintain began to crack.

They'd spent years scheming to get their hands on my mother's trust. If they could no longer deceive me, they wouldn't get a single penny.

"Harold..."

Vivian leaned against his arm, covering her face as she burst into tears.

"I raised her as my own daughter for eighteen years. How could she treat me this way?"

Harold tried again, his voice taking on a patient, sorrowful tone.

"Anna, you're being unreasonable. Everything we did was for your own good. Your birth mother died when you were so young. We didn't want to cause you more pain, so we kept the truth from you."

"Vivian has treated you better than she's treated Isabelle all these years. How can you speak to her like this? Apologize to her and come home with us."

I slowly shook my head, a bitter feeling settling over me.

It always came down to the same thing. They wanted to get me back to the Hartwell house, put me on that operating table, and hand me over to Julian.

Vivian might not have been my biological mother, but Harold was my own father. How could he scheme against his daughter with such cold calculation and so little remorse?

My throat tightened. I moved closer to Patricia and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"I belong to the Sterling family now. Please leave."

"Anna!"

Harold's voice rose sharply, his face hardening.

"You're not even going to listen to your own father?"

He'd always relied on that approach: raising his voice, invoking his authority, and expecting me to back down.

Judging by his reaction, he still hadn't accepted that I was no longer the obedient daughter he could order around.

"No."

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists at my sides.

From this day forward, I would cut all ties with the Hartwell family. And I would make them pay for everything they'd done. Every last thing they'd taken from my mother, I would get back.

"You ungrateful little..."

Harold finally lost his composure. The insult burst out before he could stop himself.

Patricia's expression turned cold.

"Mr. Hartwell. Do you think you can behave however you please in the Sterling home?"

Her words stopped him short. The anger on his face faltered, and he stumbled over his response.

"Mrs. Sterling, I was only trying to..."

"Anna is my daughter-in-law now. How she chooses to live her life is no longer your decision to make."

Patricia's voice sharpened.

"My son's condition is still unstable, and he needs peace and quiet. If anything happens to him because of this disturbance, neither of you will want to answer for it. I'll ask you both to leave."

The housekeeper was already approaching, with the security staff following close behind.

"Mr. Hartwell. This way, please."

Harold knew better than to cause a scene in the Sterling home. He swallowed his anger and turned to leave.

Just before he reached the door, he looked back at me.

"Anna, whenever you come to your senses and decide to come home, I'll take you to see your mother."

His words struck me like a shard of ice.

I understood the threat perfectly. If I refused to go back, I might never find out where Helena was buried.

The color drained from my face.

I stood motionless, watching Harold's back until the door closed behind him. My jaw tightened, and the hatred burning inside me only grew stronger.