The Heiress They Chose To Lose Chapter 01
On my first day back with the Sterling family, their adopted daughter, Claire, dropped to her knees in front of me with an oxygen tank clutched to her side.
“Elena, I know you’re their real daughter.”
“If you think I stole the life that should’ve been yours, I can leave. I’m so sick anyway. I probably don’t have many years left.”
The second she finished speaking, tears spilled down her cheeks.
Before I could say a word, my biological mother, Victoria, rushed over and pulled her into her arms.
My older brother, Alexander, shot me a cold warning look.
“Claire’s had a heart condition since she was a child. You just got here. Don’t push her.”
Even Julian Prescott, the fiancé arranged for me through the Sterling-Prescott family alliance, spoke up with a hard expression.
“If Claire gets hurt because of you, the marriage agreement between the Sterlings and the Prescotts is over.”
Everyone waited for me to back down.
I almost laughed.
Claire wasn’t the first adopted daughter from a wealthy family I’d dealt with.
I grew up in foster care.
When I was sixteen, I was placed with the Harrington family.
Their adopted daughter wanted me gone so badly that she embezzled money from the family foundation and planted evidence to frame me.
In the end, I was the one who sent her to prison.
Later, I was placed with the Whitmore family.
Their adopted daughter was even worse.
She tried to arrange a car accident to kill me.
I sent her to prison too.
Now, at twenty-seven, I held significant interests in both the Harrington and Whitmore families.
And I’d finally discovered who my biological family was.
Claire was simply the third adopted heiress who thought a few tears would be enough to chase me away.
I walked over and crouched in front of her, gently wiping the tears from her cheek.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to make you leave.”
“After all—”
I smiled.
“Out of the three adopted daughters I’ve dealt with, you’re by far the least impressive.”
…
“Elena… what… what are you talking about?”
Claire Sterling’s face had already been pale.
Now even her lips had lost their color.
Her thin fingers twisted into the white fabric over her chest as ragged breaths scraped from her throat.
“I just… I just feel guilty about what happened to you. Why are you threatening me like this?”
She swayed twice.
Then her entire body toppled backward.
Victoria screamed and lunged forward, catching her.
“Claire! Claire, breathe! Where’s her medication? Get her medication!”
The foyer of the Sterlings’ Greenwich estate exploded into chaos.
Staff rushed around for water and medicine.
Victoria knelt on the expensive rug, clutching Claire as tears poured down her face.
Alexander coolly ordered the butler to call the family physician.
And I simply stood there.
Watching a room full of polished, powerful people panic over a conveniently timed heart episode.
It felt familiar.
When I first entered the Harrington household at sixteen, their adopted daughter had cried in front of me too.
She’d sworn she would never fight me for the family fortune.
I hadn’t bothered arguing with her.
I’d called a lawyer and had every trust and asset under her name audited on the spot.
When I entered the Whitmore family at eighteen, their adopted daughter had slit her wrist and sobbed that she didn’t deserve anything the Whitmores had given her.
I’d smiled then too.
And cooperated with investigators as I handed federal prosecutors evidence of her transferred funds and planned car accident.
Now I was twenty-seven.
For the third time, I had entered a powerful family.
Except this time, I wasn’t their foster daughter.
I was the Sterling family’s biological daughter.
And Claire Sterling didn’t even have the nerve to fake poverty or slit her wrists.
All she had were a few shaky breaths and a weak little performance designed to establish herself as the helpless victim.
How boring.
“Elena.”
Alexander’s deep voice broke into my thoughts.
He walked toward me and stopped several feet away, studying me with a gaze so rational it bordered on emotionless.
“The Sterling physician will be here shortly. If something happens to Claire, you won’t be able to bear the consequences.”
He adjusted his cuff.
His voice stayed calm, but every word cut.
“I understand that you’ve had a difficult life for more than twenty years. I understand you’re resentful.”
“But Claire’s condition is real. And she has never denied that you’re our biological sister.”
“Deliberately provoking someone with a medical condition out of spite is not how a Sterling behaves.”
“I’m not blaming you. But you need to learn how things work here.”
What a wonderfully composed older brother.
He didn’t yell.
He didn’t insult me.
He simply used the most civilized language possible to brand me vicious and uncultured.
Julian Prescott spoke next.
The heir to the Prescott family.
My so-called fiancé.
He looked down at me like I was trash that couldn’t even be recycled.
“Miss Sterling.”
“Claire stayed up late arranging flowers herself to welcome you. Even her doctor told her she needed more rest.”
“And this is how you treat her the moment you arrive?”
“I was actually willing to give this marriage arrangement between our families a chance.”
“But now I see you don’t even come close to Claire.”
“If you don’t apologize to Claire immediately—”
Julian’s voice remained even, but the threat was unmistakable.
“The Prescott family will publicly terminate the engagement tomorrow.”
I looked at his arrogant face and almost laughed.
Cancel the engagement?
Just last month, Mrs. Harrington had turned down a proposal involving a European royal family on my behalf.
Compared with that, what exactly was a Prescott?
Still, I didn’t argue.
I simply pulled a sanitizing wipe from my purse and slowly cleaned the fingers that had touched Claire’s cheek.
“Julian.”
I raised my eyes to meet his.
“If you care that much, go ahead and announce the cancellation.”
I tossed the used wipe neatly into a trash can several feet away.
“And one more thing.”
“Claire’s heart rate didn’t look particularly elevated just now, and there wasn’t any sign of cyanosis.”
“So if that was really an episode from her supposed heart condition—”
I glanced at Claire.
She went rigid in Victoria’s arms.
“I suggest the Sterlings find a new doctor.”
“Because your current one apparently can’t even recognize someone faking an attack.”