Buying My Revenge From My Biological Father

On the eve of the engagement gala, the world I had known for twenty-three years shattered. I was not a Beaumont. I was a "placeholder." And now that the real biological daughter had been found, my adoptive parents gave me two choices.

I could leave with nothing and rot in the slums I supposedly came from. Or, I could lower my pride and stay—as the secret mistress to the man who was supposed to be my husband.

"Evelyn, be reasonable," my adoptive mother, Eleanor, said, smoothing her Chanel suit. "You don't have a drop of Beaumont blood in you.