Chapter 5 Wrong Spelling

Alina’s POV

The man’s words hit me like a slap I didn’t see coming.

My stomach dropped so fast I thought I’d throw up right there on the marble. The blanket slipped a little lower on my shoulders, but I didn’t yank it back up. Let them stare. Let the cameras catch every inch of soot on my skin, every tear track cutting through the ash on my cheeks. 

I was done hiding being the polished princess.

The ballroom exploded into chaos. Gasps, whispers, phones shooting up like a forest of little black rectangles. Someone’s champagne flute actually shattered on the floor. The string quartet had stopped playing ages ago, but now even the violinist looked like he wanted to bolt.

I spun toward the guy in the leather jacket. Tall, messy hair, face smeared with the same soot that was all over me. He looked… familiar. Like one of the shadows that had grabbed me and set the fire before everything went black and smoky. But I couldn’t place him…my brain was too fried.

“What are you talking about?” I shouted, voice raw from smoke and screaming. “I didn’t plan anything! I was really kidnapped, and the fact that I have to convince my own father that I was indeed kidnapped makes me sick!”

Dorothy pushed forward again, still cradling her slapped cheek like I’d broken her jaw. Her eyes were wide and shiny, all innocent and hurt. She looked straight at me, then at my father, like she was the referee in some messed-up family game.

“Lina, sweetie, why would you do this?” she asked, voice soft and trembling just enough to sound real. “Causing this huge scene… in your underwear, in front of everyone… just for attention? Uncle’s been worried sick. We all have and this has just been a prank that you pulled?”

I laughed again, but it came out more like a choke. “Attention? Dorothy, I almost died tonight. Real fire. Real smoke. Real kidnappers. And you’re standing there in my dress, wearing my crown, acting like I’m throwing a tantrum?”

She turned to my father, eyes pleading. “Uncle Fredrick, don’t you think she’d hurt herself just to get your attention? I mean… remember last year at the charity gala? She ‘forgot’ her speech and cried in the bathroom until you canceled the whole thing and took her home early. Or that time in Monaco when she said she was sick so you’d skip the yacht party with the investors? She’s done little things like this before. But this…” She waved a hand at me, blanket and all. “This is next level even for her.”

Dorothy is nothing but a manipulative liar. I had my reasons in all those instances she just mentioned. 

For the charity gala, I was having cramps and felt like the whole world was against me. I couldn’t stop the tears no matter how hard I tried. 

The yacht? I was actually seasick! What is she talking about?

My father’s face went tight as he glanced at me…like he was even considering her words. I am his daughter for christ sake!

The man in the leather jacket cleared his throat and pulled out his phone, and held it up like it was Exhibit A in a murder trial.

“Like I said earlier… I have evidence,” he said, voice low and cold. The kind of voice that made people anticipate the next words. “This proves everything.”

My father gave a signal and one of his men stepped up fast, took the phone, and brought it straight to my father like it was the nuclear codes. 

So my own father doubts me too? He believes I could do such?

He tapped the screen, eyes scanning. I watched his face change. Jaw locking. Eyes narrowing into slits. The color drained, then rushed back in angry red patches across his cheeks.

“How dare you?” he whispered. But he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were still glued to the phone.

Dorothy leaned in closer to him, voice all sweet poison. “See? I tried to tell you, Uncle. She’s been spiraling since you started spending more time during your travels. She just wants you to notice her. This whole kidnapping story? Probably so you’d cancel the party and fly back early to cuddle her. Classic Alina.”

Regina…the brunette in the emerald dress, the one he’d just announced as my new mom…grabbed his arm. “Fredrick, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

The man in the leather jacket started chuckling victoriously like he had won a bet, eyes locked on mine mockingly. “In fact, she paid me five grand in crypto. Said to make it look real. Said her dad would come running if she was in danger. I’ve got the messages right there—”

My breath caught so hard my lungs burned worse than the smoke from earlier. What the actual hell? I didn’t pay anyone anything. I didn’t text anyone. I was tied up in a van that smelled like old takeout and fear…right?

How could I have anything to do with this? What did that phone even show my father that made him look so furious?

My father started defending the stage…coming towards me. 

Oh, no. Who knows how long I’ll be grounded for? But I didn’t do anything wrong!

To my shock, he didn’t stop by my side. He didn’t even glance at me. He stormed right past me…close enough that his sleeve brushed my blanket…and went straight for the leather-jacket guy.

The punch landed with a sickening crack as confused gasps echoed around. But he didn’t stop at one. My father’s fist kept connecting square with the guy’s jaw. The man staggered back, blood already trickling from his lip nonstop.

“Guards!” my father roared. “Hold him down!”

Three men in black suits swarmed the guy like sharks. They pinned his arms behind his back, shoved him to his knees right there in the middle of the aisle. 

The guy spat blood onto the floor. “What the hell is going on? I’m only trying to help! I came forward because I felt guilty—”

My father pulled a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his knuckles slowly, deliberately. Then he balled it up and threw it right at the guy’s face. It bounced off his chest.

“If you’re going to impersonate my daughter,” my father said, voice ice-cold and terrifyingly calm, “at least get the spellings right. Alina is too polished to type ‘ur’ instead of ‘your,’ or ‘u’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather die than send a message that looks like it came from a thirteen-year-old on TikTok. Take him out. Make him confess who put him up to this. Now.”

The guards dragged the guy away, his boots scraping the floor, still yelling, “This is bullshit! I swear it was her!”

The room was a storm of whispers and flashes. I stood there shaking, blanket clutched tight, heart hammering so loud I could hear it over everything. My father turned to me then. Just a little. His face softened…not a lot, just the tiniest crack, like sunlight peeking through storm clouds.

“Go clean up, Alina,” he said quietly. “The party’s still going on. We have to celebrate your birthday.”

Excuse me? After everything?

I looked him dead in the eyes. No blinking. No looking away like I used to when I was little and he’d lecture me about image.

“I’d rather be anywhere than here, father.”

His jaw ticked as he whispered so only I could hear. “What’s gotten over you? When did you learn to speak back like this? There are people watching, Alina. Behave. Go to the dressing room. Put on something more decent. You’re the heir to the Sterling Group. Act like it.”

I opened my mouth…ready to tell him exactly where he could shove his heir title and his party and his new fiancée…when Regina cut in, stepping between us like a shield.

“Give her a break, Fredrick,” she said, voice firm but kind. “She just had a traumatic experience. You’re forcing her to stand here laughing and being polite like she didn’t just nearly die minutes ago? Look at her. She’s covered in soot. Barely standing.”

I turned and really looked at Regina for the first time. Not as the woman stealing my dad, but as… someone who actually saw me. Her eyes were worried. Gentle. Since the second I crashed this circus, she’d been trying to cover me up, asking questions, pushing back. Unlike my own father, who’d been ready to drag me upstairs and pretend none of this happened.

Something sad twisted in my chest. I almost felt bad for her. She had no idea what she was signing up for.

“You should all have your fun,” I said, voice steady even though my legs felt like jelly. “Everything in this hall disgusts me.”

I watched my father’s face then. Really watched. The sadness flooded in…deep lines around his eyes, shoulders dropping just a fraction. For a split second, he looked… old and tired. Nothing like the dad who used to read me bedtime stories about business empires and expectations.

I turned and started walking. My head felt fuzzy, the edges of my vision going dark and sparkly. Suddenly, the world tilted sideways, like the floor had decided to become a funhouse mirror.

I took one more step.

Then my head banged..,sharp, inside my skull, like someone hit me with a hammer made of pure exhaustion and smoke and betrayal. My knees buckled as the marble rushed up to meet me.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground. My father’s voice rang out as frantic as I’ve heard… “Alina!”

Regina’s shout cut through the noise… “Someone get the doctor! Now!”

But it was too late. The lights above me blurred into one bright, spinning chandelier. 

Even as everything went black, one thought cut through the chaos like a knife…

Someone set this up. The fire. The kidnapping. The fake texts. The guy in the leather jacket.

And it wasn’t me. 

I may not know who wants me dead… but I know exactly who would smile the widest if I never woke up.