Chapter 1

The crystal chandeliers of the Sterling mansion glittered, casting a golden glow over the sea of expensive suits and silk dresses. It was my twenty-first birthday party, an event my adoptive father, David, had insisted on making the talk of the town. For most of my life, I was Chloe Sterling, the cherished daughter of the Sterling empire, even though the true power, my biological mother Evelyn, had been absent for the past year, supposedly recovering from a serious illness in a private clinic overseas.

Tonight, however, the warmth I was used to felt thin and fragile.

The center of the room, and the center of the problem, was Melody. She was a "sponsored student," a girl from a poor background our family was paying to put through university. She stood near the grand piano, looking doe-eyed and overwhelmed in a simple white dress that she' d probably cried to my father about affording.

The conflict started over a diamond bracelet.

"I can't find it," Melody said, her voice trembling just enough for everyone nearby to hear. "It was a gift from Mr. Sterling. It was right here on the table."

Her eyes darted towards me. The implication was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

My stepbrother, Ryan, immediately stepped in front of her, his body a protective shield.

"Chloe, did you see it? Melody is really upset."

I looked at him, my brother by marriage, David's son from a previous relationship. His face was tight with a familiar resentment. He had always felt like he was living in my shadow, the shadow of Evelyn Sterling's true daughter.

"I haven't seen her cheap bracelet, Ryan," I said, my voice cool.

"It's not cheap!" Melody cried out, tears welling in her eyes instantly. "It was the first piece of real jewelry I've ever owned."

David, my father, walked over, his expression one of paternal disappointment, aimed entirely at me.

"Chloe, that's enough. Melody is our guest. If you saw something, just say so. Don't make this difficult."

My heart felt cold. He was my father. He had raised me. Yet, in the past year, since my mother' s retreat from public life, he and Ryan had increasingly treated me like an inconvenience, while showering Melody with attention and gifts. They called her kind and unassuming, a breath of fresh air compared to my supposed privilege.

I knew the truth. Melody wasn't unassuming. She was a viper, and her mother, Sarah, who had a history with my father long before my mother was in the picture, had coached her well.

"I didn't take it," I stated plainly. "Why would I want her bracelet when my mother has given me a vault full of them?"

The words hung in the air, arrogant and true. They were meant to remind them who held the real power in this family, even in her absence.

But it was the wrong thing to say. It made me sound like a spoiled princess bullying the poor, fragile orphan.

"How can you be so cruel?" Ryan spat, his face turning red. "You've always had everything, and you can't stand to see Dad be nice to someone else for a change!"

"Apologize to Melody," David commanded, his voice low and firm.

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. He wasn't asking. He was ordering me. In front of all these people. For a crime I didn't commit, for a girl who was playing him like a fiddle.

"No," I said, my chin held high.

Melody let out a soft sob, hiding her face in Ryan's chest.

That was all it took.

Ryan lunged forward. His hand came up fast, and the sound of it connecting with my cheek echoed in the sudden silence of the ballroom.

Slap.

The sting was sharp, but the shock was worse. My head snapped to the side. The guests gasped. My own stepbrother had hit me. At my own birthday party. And my father just stood there, his jaw tight, not moving to defend me.

I slowly turned my head back, my eyes locking onto Ryan's. I didn't cry. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The party was ruined. The guests started murmuring, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and judgment.

Later, as the crowd began to thin, Melody cornered me near the deserted terrace. The tears were gone, replaced by a smug, victorious smirk.

"You see, Chloe," she whispered, her voice a triumphant hiss. "They love me more. Soon, everything that is yours will be mine. This house, the company, all of it. Your mother is gone, and you're all alone."

I looked at her, at this girl who thought she had won. Her ambition was as plain and ugly as her cheap dress. She thought my mother's absence meant weakness. She thought my father's infatuation meant power. She was a fool.

A small, cold smile touched my lips.

"You think this is over?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "You have no idea what's coming for you."

Her smirk wavered for a second, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before she regained her composure. But I had seen it. She had no idea who she was truly dealing with. She had just declared war on the wrong person.