Chapter 3

"Dennis, are you okay?"

A woman came rushing over, propping Dennis up before turning to me with reddened eyes.

"Sis, how could you hit him?"

"I'm the one who wants to be with Dennis. If you're angry, hit me instead."

"I'm sorry… Dennis, this is all my fault. You got hit because of me…"

The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, tears streaming endlessly down her face.

"What does this have to do with you?"

Dennis pulled her into his arms, his heart clearly aching for her.

"I'm the one who fell in love with you. We're the real thing—this is all Ophelia's fault."

Then he turned to me, his voice going ice-cold:

"Ophelia, apologize to Mia!"

I blinked, then looked at the pair of them with incredulous amusement.

These two shameless cheaters—truly unbelievable.

They were the ones having an affair, and somehow it was my fault? Did I force them into it?

"Sis, I'm sorry!"

Mia suddenly lunged toward me, eyes red and swimming, as if I were some kind of monster.

"I know all these years you've felt inferior because of your fake heiress identity."

"So when you bullied me, stole my things ever since we were little—I never cared."

"But sis, I really do love Dennis… I'm begging you, just let me have him. Please?"

Her performance was stirring enough to draw immediate sympathy from the crowd.

"My God, the real heiress is being bullied by the fake one? Ophelia is vicious! She won't even spare her own sister!"

"See, I was right all along—a fake is a fake! She's been stealing since childhood, and now she won't even give up the poor girl's boyfriend!"

"At least the real heiress has a good heart. After being treated like that, she's still willing to call that awful woman her sister. If it were me, I'd have slapped her across the face ages ago!"

The gossip swelled louder and louder, the stares directed at me dripping with contempt.

As if I were the other woman trying to steal someone's boyfriend.

Dennis couldn't bear to see Mia cry. He held her close, gently wiping her tears.

I stood rooted to the spot, the absurdity of it all washing over me. Everything playing out before my eyes felt as unreal as a TV drama.

This woman who kept calling me a fake heiress, who kept calling me "sis"—

I had never seen her before in my life.

"Sis, I'm begging you, please just—"

"Who's your sister?"

I took a deep breath and fixed the woman with a cold stare. "Stop spouting nonsense. I don't know you."

"Sis!"

Mia cried out, as if genuinely furious, fresh tears spilling over.

"I know you're angry. I know you don't want me to be with Dennis."

"But you can't refuse to acknowledge me altogether!"

She rushed forward and grabbed my hand, her voice pleading:

"I'll apologize—sis, please, just let me be with Dennis!"

Seeing her pitiful act, the crowd's anger surged even higher, everyone rallying to Mia's defense.

"Ophelia, stop bullying her! They love each other—why does a fraud like you insist on tearing them apart?"

"Exactly! You're a counterfeit! What right do you have to steal a man from the real heiress? Or is snatching things just second nature to you by now?"

"She's your sister! You can't throw away basic sisterly bonds over a man!"

I listened to the voices swirling around me, nails biting deep into my palms.

After a long moment, I fixed my gaze on Mia, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

"Fine. If you're really my sister, then of course I can let you have Dennis."

"But… are you actually my sister? Do you have any proof?"

The moment those words left my mouth, every murmur in the room died.

All eyes swiveled to Mia in unison.

Her gaze flickered nervously, and she cleared her throat twice.

"Of course I have proof!"

With that, she pulled out her phone, dialed a number with practiced ease, and put it on speaker.

"Hello? Sweetheart, why are you calling Daddy at this hour?"

I whipped my head around, my entire body going rigid.

That was unmistakably my father's voice.