Return Of The Sports Tycoon's Ultimate Heir

Madisyn's POV:

I sat on the edge of the living room sofa, keeping my hands folded in my lap. Twenty-two years in this house, yet today, I was the outsider.

It was Jenna's first day in the Chapman house. The Chapmans had suddenly brought her home, claiming she was their biological daughter. From the moment she stepped through the door, everything in the household began to revolve around her.

Phyllis, the woman who had raised me as her own, leaned forward. She held a plate of sliced fruit, offering a piece to Jenna. Her voice carried a soft, careful pitch I had never heard her use with me.

"Jenna, baby, try this. This is all for you."

Jenna glanced my way, the corners of her lips turning up for a fraction of a second, before she looked back at Phyllis. She pitched her voice high and soft. "Thank you, Mom. Having a mother like you makes all the suffering I went through worthwhile."

Phyllis blinked rapidly, wiping a tear from her cheek. She reached out to stroke Jenna's hair, her back turned completely toward me.

Jeffry, my adoptive father and a minority shareholder in an AHL development team, sat beside them. He had unbuttoned his suit jacket, dropping his usual stern boardroom demeanor. He leaned in close to Jenna, his expression a mix of eager relief and deep-seated guilt for the years lost.

"Yes, from now on, our family will give you the best of everything."

I pressed my fingers into the fabric of my jeans. The living room, with its familiar oak furniture and framed family photos, suddenly felt like a place I had walked into by mistake.

Jenna's gaze drifted past Phyllis, landing on the mantelpiece where my figure skating championship trophies were lined up. She let out a small, deliberate sigh.

"My sister is so talented, unlike me, who had to struggle for a living since I was little."

Phyllis stopped stroking Jenna's hair. She turned her head and shot me a sharp, disapproving look, her lips pressing into a thin line.

I pushed myself up from the sofa. I needed a glass of water from the kitchen, just to step out of the room for a minute.

As I passed the staircase, Jenna suddenly called out behind me. She had been pretending to head upstairs to her room, but her voice stopped me cold.

"Sister, is there no room for me in this house anymore?"

The question came out of nowhere. I frowned, already tired of her games, and turned around impatiently.

Before I could say a word, Jenna let out a sharp cry. Her body tipped backward, and she tumbled down the carpeted steps.

I watched her descend. She kept her arms tucked in, her shoulders taking the brunt of the soft impacts.

I stood there in shock, my mind a blank.

Jenna lay at the foot of the stairs, curled up and moaning in pain.

Phyllis and Jeffry rushed over at the sound. Seeing the scene, Phyllis let out a shrill scream.

"Oh my God! Jenna! My daughter!"

She rushed over and knelt beside Jenna.

Jeffry's face flushed dark red. He looked past Jenna, fixing his eyes directly on me with a hard, unblinking stare.

Jenna raised a trembling hand, pointing at me, tears streaming down her face.

"It was... it was my sister... she pushed me..."

"Madisyn!" Phyllis's voice was filled with incredulous anger and hatred. "How could you do this! She's your sister!"

I opened my mouth, wanting to explain that I hadn't, that I hadn't even touched her.

But my voice was drowned out by Jenna's more painful cries and Phyllis's scolding.

"I... I just wanted to get closer to my sister," Jenna sobbed. "She said... she said this house couldn't accommodate two daughters..."

It was a blatant lie. She was putting her own words into my mouth.

Jeffry took the stairs two at a time, stopping on the step just below mine. He pointed down the hallway.

"Go to your room."

It wasn't a question. It was a command. No room for argument, no chance for me to defend myself.

I looked down at the three of them. Phyllis had her arms wrapped tightly around Jenna, while Jeffry stood as a barrier between us. They formed a tight, closed unit on the floor.

I didn't argue. I just watched Jenna. Lying in Phyllis's arms, she was secretly watching me from the corner of her eye, her gaze full of triumph.

I noticed a detail. She kept rubbing her right ankle, her face twisted in agony.

I replayed the fall in my mind. I remembered the exact moment she lost her balance. Her left foot had caught the edge of the step first. If she had really hurt herself in the fall, it should have been her left ankle.

But she kept clutching her right one.

My heartbeat slowed, heavy and steady against my ribs, as the pieces began to fall into place.

She hadn't even bothered to get the details right.

She had orchestrated the entire fall.

I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I simply turned and went upstairs.

After closing my bedroom door, I leaned against it, listening to the chaos below and Jenna's intermittent sobs.

I wouldn't beg them to trust me.

I would make them see with their own eyes exactly what kind of person they had brought into this house.

Madisyn's POV:

Downstairs, the family doctor, Dr. Evans, had been called. I could hear his gentle voice, interspersed with Phyllis's anxious questions and Jenna's sobs.

I needed facts.

About an hour later, Phyllis knocked and entered, her face grim. "The doctor said Jenna has a grade two sprain on her right ankle and needs to rest."

She stood in the doorway, her posture rigid, glaring at me.

I looked at her calmly. "Her right ankle? I thought it was her left foot that hit the ground first when she fell."

Phyllis was stunned for a moment, then snapped, "You're still arguing! You're just jealous that Jenna is back!"

I said nothing more. Arguing was useless. I needed evidence, not more accusations.

At dinner, I was allowed downstairs. Jenna sat next to the head of the table, her foot in an exaggerated cast, enjoying queen-like treatment.

Jeffry kept a straight face throughout the meal, not looking at me once. Phyllis was constantly putting food on Jenna's plate.

After dinner, I passed by Jeffry's study and noticed the door was closed. A moment later, I heard his low voice through the door. I couldn't make out much, only fragments like "...sample," "...expedited test," and "...must confirm."

I slowed to a stop. Their attitude toward me had changed so suddenly, especially after Jenna came into the family. I thought about the way Jeffry and Phyllis had treated me lately, and a strange thought surfaced.

Could this have something to do with my family background?

The next day, Jeffry called us all into the living room. The three of us sat in the living room, with Jenna in a wheelchair, pushed by Phyllis.

"Madisyn, we want to hear your explanation again," Jeffry said, he sat in his armchair, crossing his legs and folding his hands.

I didn't explain. Instead, I asked questions. "Jenna, you said I pushed you. Can you tell me, did I use my left hand or my right hand? Where did I push you?"

Jenna's face paled slightly. She stammered, "I... I was too scared, I don't remember."

"Is that so?" I continued. "Dr. Evans said you injured your left ankle. But I remember you clutching your right ankle right after you fell. Why?"

Jenna's lips began to tremble. "I... I was dazed from the fall, I got it wrong!"

"Then what about the scratches on your palm?" I pressed on. "Our stairs are covered with thick carpet. You couldn't have gotten those scratches unless you were holding something sharp when you fell."

I clearly remembered her fiddling with a rhinestone-studded hair clip before she rolled down the stairs.

Jenna's jaw dropped slightly, and she quickly looked away from me. She looked to Phyllis for help.

Phyllis immediately stood up to protect her. "That's enough, Madisyn! Are you interrogating a criminal? She's your sister! She's already hurt, why must you be so cruel?"

I looked at Jeffry. He had been silent, but his eyes had changed. It was no longer just anger, but a hint of scrutiny and suspicion.

He saw the cracks in Jenna's story.

Just then, Dr. Evans arrived uninvited, holding a file. "Mr. Chapman, I came back to add something to my diagnosis."

Dr. Evans's appearance made Jenna's body tense up involuntarily.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, looking at Jenna's cast with a strange expression. "I was reviewing last night's examination and found some interesting things."

He didn't say it outright, but turned to Jeffry. "Sir, there's something I'd like to discuss with you in private."

The request itself was a signal. A very bad signal for Jenna.

Phyllis tried to say something but was silenced by a look from Jeffry.

Jeffry and Dr. Evans went into the study. The living room grew entirely quiet. No one spoke or moved.

Jenna didn't dare to look at me, her head bowed, her fingers gripping the armrest of her wheelchair.

A few minutes later, Jeffry came out of the study alone, his jaw clenched tight, the muscles jumping in his cheeks. He didn't look at Jenna, but walked straight to me.

My heart was in my throat.

He looked at me deeply, his gaze so complex I couldn't decipher it. There was anger, disappointment, and a hint of something I couldn't understand... a rigid decision.

"This ends now," he announced, his voice devoid of any warmth. "From today on, you two, no more conflicts."

He chose to appease the situation, to protect the lying Jenna.

But I knew this wasn't the end.

Madisyn's POV:

For the next few days, a strange calm settled over the house. Jenna continued to play her role as the fragile invalid, but she no longer provoked me.

Jeffry became more withdrawn, often shutting himself in his study. I knew he was waiting for the results of that "expedited test."

Phyllis ignored me, pouring all her energy into caring for Jenna, making different soups every day as if Jenna had suffered a life-threatening injury.

I was tired of this suffocating pretense. I just needed the right moment to expose the cracks in her story.

The opportunity came on a Saturday afternoon. Jeffry and Phyllis were both home, watching TV in the living room.

Jenna came downstairs on crutches, her cast still prominent, on her way to sunbathe in the garden.

As she passed me, she "accidentally" knocked over an old photo album I had left on the coffee table with her crutch.

The album fell to the floor, opening to the page of my first national junior figure skating championship. In the photo, I was smiling brightly.

"Oops, sorry, sister," Jenna apologized without any sincerity. "My foot is inconvenient, I wasn't steady."

She quickly looked down, but not before I caught the upward twitch of her lips.

Phyllis immediately chided me. "Madisyn, can't you put your things away? Don't you know there's a patient in the house?"

I ignored her and slowly bent down to pick up the album.

Then, I stood up and my gaze swept across the living room. It landed on an expensive antique vase on the mantelpiece, Phyllis's favorite.

I weighed the vase in my hands, calculating the distance to the floor near her feet.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the fireplace.

Jeffry and Phyllis noticed my movement and looked at me, puzzled.

I picked up the heavy vase, feeling its weight.

"Madisyn, what are you doing!" Phyllis screamed.

I turned to Jenna, who was leaning in the middle of the living room, about fifteen feet away from me.

I smiled at her. "Jenna, watch out!"

Before the words left my mouth, I swung my arm and threw the vase in a gentle arc towards her.

I controlled the force and direction. The target was the carpet at her feet; it would never actually hurt her.

Everyone's reaction happened in a flash.

Phyllis covered her mouth in shock. Jeffry shot up from the sofa.

And Jenna, the "patient" who couldn't even walk steadily on crutches a second ago, reacted instinctively.

She screamed, threw away her crutches, and leaped aside with surprising agility, landing steadily on the ground. Both of her feet, including the one in the cast, perfectly supported her weight.

The vase crashed onto the carpet where she had been standing, shattering into a thousand pieces.

The sound of shattering porcelain echoed, followed by absolute stillness.

Jenna froze in her evasive posture. She realized what she had done, her face drained of color, filled with terror.

Phyllis stared dumbfounded at Jenna, then at the shards on the floor, her mouth agape.

I broke the silence, my tone as calm as if I were talking about the weather. "Looks like your ankle has recovered well, Jenna. You can even perform a standard evasive jump."

She stood perfectly balanced on the foot that was supposed to be severely sprained.

However, the apology and remorse I expected never came. Jeffry's roar broke the stalemate.

"Madisyn!" he bellowed, his face flushed. "Are you crazy! Do you know how much that vase was worth? You're going to destroy this family just to prove your damn point!"

He didn't mention Jenna's deceit, but he was blaming me for breaking a vase. I looked at his red face and the pointing finger. He didn't care about the fake cast. He only cared about the disruption.

Jeffry's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, his expression becoming even more complicated. He walked aside to answer the call.

I heard him say, "... Are the test results out? Good, I'll be right over to get them."