Chapter 4

"I haven't offered an opinion on her character. I merely described her physical behavior."

"Ethan, the cardinal sin of any professional investigation is deciding whether someone is an angel or a demon beforehand, and then selectively bending the evidence to fit your bias."

"You have made that exact rookie mistake from the moment I arrived."

He slammed his silver fork onto the table with a loud clatter.

"Enough!"

"This is a home, not an interrogation room!"

I took a measured sip of my milk.

"Normal homes don't witness staged falls and midnight lock-picking within a forty-eight-hour window."

Chloe hung her head, her manicured fingers clawing into the fabric of her designer skirt.

In that split second, I saw no remorse in her downcast eyes—only pure, venomous hatred at being publicly dismantled over and over again.

Two days later, the Vance family hosted an elite welcome gala.

Grandfather Arthur Vance was still recuperating in the hospital, but Eleanor had insisted on holding the party anyway.

She claimed that since her biological daughter had returned, my status needed to be introduced to high society.

I had zero interest in attending.

However, Grandfather Arthur had sent a courier to deliver a file containing the hospital records from twenty-two years ago.

One specific page—the maternity ward shift-log—had several staff names heavily redacted with black industrial ink.

The old man sent a private message asking me to use the gala to observe every Vance relative and associate.

*“The baby swap back then was too seamless to be an accident,”* his note read. *“Someone inside this house helped pull the strings.”*

I agreed.

Investigating is my specialty, and my passion.

Especially when the crime in question was committed against me.

When the gala was in full swing, Eleanor stepped onto the stage to introduce me to the room full of billionaires and socialites.

Before she could finish her speech, the high-end sound system let out a sharp buzz, and a recording began playing through the ballroom speakers.

It was unmistakably my voice.

*"I only came back to take everything the Vance family owns."*

*"Chloe better know her place."*

*"If she doesn't, I have plenty of ways to make her disappear permanently."*

The room erupted into shocked whispers.

Hundreds of mocking, judgmental eyes locked onto me like searchlights.

"Valerie!"

Chloe stood in the middle of the crowd, looking like a shattered porcelain doll, trembling as if on the verge of fainting.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

"If you want the Vance family all to yourself, just tell me... I’ll walk away right now..."

Pity rippled through the guests; looks of absolute disgust were hurled at me.

Ethan sprinted over to the AV control booth and yanked the master audio cable.

He stormed back, glaring at me with raw, bitter disappointment.

"The audio is right there! Cold, hard evidence!"

"Are you going to claim someone framed you this time too?!"

I didn't even look at him. I glanced at Chloe, quietly marveling at her stubborn stupidity.

She genuinely believed these amateur parlor tricks could take me down.

"Speak!" Ethan barked, his voice dripping with venom.

I looked at him coolly. "The recording [PAID CHAPTER BREAK] definitely used my voice."

Ethan let out a triumphant sneer.

"You finally admit it!"