Rejected Heiress: My Secret Billionaire Life

Half an hour until the engagement party.

Flora Smith stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining her reflection.

The mermaid-cut evening gown had been custom-made by her father three months ago. The champagne-colored satin shimmered under the lights, accentuating her slender waist and graceful curves. The hand-embroidered neckline was exquisitely intricate, every stitch revealing masterful craftsmanship.

She rarely wore anything this formal, but she had to admit her father had good taste. This dress, tailored specifically for her, was perfect in every way.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, pausing for a moment before knocking softly.

"Come in."

Her father, Michael Smith, pushed the door open.

Flora saw him in the mirror and froze slightly. Her father was dressed very formally today—his dark gray suit was crisply pressed, his hair carefully combed. But her gaze fell on his face—those eyes that always held a gentle smile now concealed complex emotions, like guilt mixed with reluctance.

"Flora." He spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse. "There's something... I have to tell you."

Flora turned around, looking at him quietly.

Michael avoided her gaze, looking toward the window instead. Outside in the garden, staff were setting up the engagement party venue. White drapes fluttered in the breeze, and floral arches were arranged in elegant clusters.

"Ten years ago..." he finally began, his voice low. "Ten years ago, during the family health checkup, I discovered... you couldn't possibly be my daughter."

Flora's eyes flickered slightly, but she said nothing.

"But I've always treated you like my own daughter." Michael turned around, his eyes reddening. "However..."

He paused, continuing with difficulty: "Your biological parents have found you."

Flora lowered her eyes, still silent.

"Their last name is White... they live in the countryside, very poor conditions." Michael's voice grew quieter. "They came looking for you because someone in your family is very sick. They probably need you to donate bone marrow? If it weren't for this, they might never have come looking for you."

The air seemed to freeze.

Flora raised her head, looking into her father's eyes.

Michael had known about this all along but waited until today to tell her. Waited until half an hour before the engagement party, until she was already in her gown.

Was he afraid she'd run if she found out earlier? Or was he worried about how to explain things to the Williams family?

She didn't ask.

She suddenly raised her hand and pulled down the side zipper.

The movement was swift and decisive, without a moment's hesitation.

"Since I won't be needing it, I won't wear it."

She picked up the white shirt draped over the sofa and calmly put it on.

White shirt, jeans, canvas shoes.

The woman in the mirror had once been all about luxury and display. Now she looked cold, remote, untouchable.

Michael wanted to say something, his lips moving, but it ultimately turned into just a sigh.

Just then, Susan Martinez stormed in, followed by a timid-looking girl. The girl wore a faded dress, head lowered, hands twisted together, like a frightened deer.

Susan glanced at the gown on the chair back, then at Flora in casual clothes, and immediately pulled her lips into a mocking smile.

"You took off the dress already?" she said sarcastically. "Good thing you did—you won't be needing it anyway."

She pulled the girl behind her forward: "This is your sister, Vivian Smith. The real heiress of the Smith family."

Vivian was forced to lift her head, revealing a face full of fear and eagerness to please.

"Flora... hello." Her voice was tiny, her eyes darting away, not daring to look at Flora. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take your place... I'm really sorry..."

As she spoke, her eyes reddened.

Flora gave her a brief glance and said nothing.

Vivian's tears fell harder.

Susan patted her back sympathetically, then turned to Flora with a sharp tone: "By the way, the engagement party will go on as planned."

A triumphant smile spread across her face: "Since you're going back to the White family, we can't break off the alliance with the Williams family. Let Vivian marry in your place."

Vivian's head shot up, her eyes red like a rabbit's: "Mom, how can that work... I don't have a dress, and I don't deserve such a good match... Flora will blame me..."

She spoke while stealing glances at Flora, looking utterly pitiful.

"What would she blame you for?" Susan snorted coldly. "She was never going to end up anywhere but that poor, backwards little town. Whose fault is that? A good family like the Williams—you're not going to just give that up, are you?"

Flora watched this performance, a faint smile curving her lips.

"Your fiancé arrives in half an hour." Flora picked up her backpack, her tone as casual as if commenting on the weather. "Take your time getting ready."

With that, she walked straight toward the door.

"Flora."

It was Michael.

Flora stopped but didn't turn around.

Michael quickly walked up to her, pulling out a bank card and pressing it into her hand.

"Take this." His voice was hoarse. "It's not much, but take it for now."

Flora looked down at the card without taking it. Michael's hand hung in mid-air for a moment before he finally tucked the card into her backpack's side pocket. He then pulled out a stack of cash from his pocket.

"This is for spending money." He smiled somewhat ingratiatingly.

Flora raised her head, looking into his eyes.

In those eyes were guilt, reluctance, heartache, and a hint of... relief?

She suddenly remembered when she was little, every time she made a mistake, Michael would look at her the same way. Pleading on her behalf while sighing helplessly. Back then, she thought that was love.

Now she finally saw clearly—it was nothing more than the courtesy he showed toward someone else's child.

Or perhaps it was just compensation for the time Michael was kidnapped and she was used as a hostage exchange?

Behind her, Vivian's crying started again: "Mom, is Flora mad at me? I really didn't mean to... maybe we should let her stay and I'll leave..."

"Leave? What are you leaving for!" Susan's voice rang out. "This is your home! She's the outsider!"

Just then, a sharp scream suddenly came from inside—

"Ahhh—!"