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Chapter 7
The doors burst open, and a group of men strode in.
They were bigger and better trained than Graham’s security team.
The man in front carried a velvet–covered box. When he pulled back the cloth, the Whitmore Signet Ring gleamed under the lights.
A murmur swept through the crowd.
1
“Wait–that’s the Whitmore Signet Ring. Are they really handing it over tonight, at Mrs. Whitmore’s birthday?”
“Well, someone’s about to choke on their own words. Didn’t they just claim he had
My brothers inhaled sharply, practically bouncing in place.
They nudged Graham with their elbows.
no
say
in the family?”
“Dad, go take it! Grandfather’s finally seeing reason–he’s giving it
But Graham didn’t move.
to
you today!”
Of course he didn’t–telling Grandfather the location would’ve meant explaining why he
was here
at all.
And how could he admit that this wasn’t a party for his wife, but a birthday celebration for his mistress?
Panic flickered across his face. “What’s this about?”
Brielle and Claudia, clueless, stepped forward to grab the ring.
“Honey, they’re obviously here to give it to you. Why are you just standing there?”
But the man in front brushed past them without hesitation.
“Miss Whitmore,” he announced, his voice carrying over the crowd, “the family ring is here for you intermittenti demperent
He stopped right in front of me.
Silence dropped over the room–then burst into mocking laughter.
“Is this some kind of performance?”
“Since when can a girl in a T–shirt be head of the Whitmore family?”
But a few guests went quiet, recognizing the ring.
The men around it were all former special forces. This wasn’t fake.
I took the ring and twirled it between my fingers, then looked straight at Graham.
“Now tell me who runs the Whitmore family?”
His guards were already subdued by Grandfather’s men.
He could never have guessed that Grandfather had been tracking my movements since I landed,
If Claudia hadn’t been stupid enough to smash my phone, they might not have arrived so soon.
Graham’s face went pale. He stammered, “I’m your father.”
I raised my voice so the whole room could hear.
“You’re my father? Sorry–you’re not worthy.”
The realization spread through the crowd.
Chapter 7
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The woman who’d been humiliated into silence was the real Mrs. Whitmore.
And I was the true Whitmore heiress.
“But why don’t Mr. Whitmore and his sons acknowledge her?” someone whispered.
I didn’t have the answer yet.
So I pressed the ring to Graham’s face.
“Graham–no, Lincoln–mind telling me when I suddenly got a stepmother you’re too ashamed to introduce?”
Sweat rolled down his temples.
My brothers stared at the ring in my hand, anger burning in their
I swept my gaze over them.
“My dear brothers, do you recognize your mother now?”
At a clap from the man in the tailored suit, they were all restrained.
none of them dared speak.
I pulled my mother up and guided her hand to slap each one across the face.
“These are all traitors,” I whispered to her. “Don’t go soft on them.”
In the middle of it all, I’d nearly forgotten Brielle and her mother.
Their shrieks sliced through the air.
“What are you doing? You forged a ring and hired actors to stage an attack on my turf!”
She still didn’t get it.
I gave her a cold smile.
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- me.
“Your dear husband’s real name is Lincoln Smith–check his driver’s license if you don’t believe
“Oh, wait… you probably never even saw the paperwork, so how would you know his legal name?”
“And I ran your name too, Claudia Sinclair. Did you honestly think him letting you parade around as needed a prop to keep my grandfather from finding out.”
Claudia shook her head in disbelief.
She turned to Graham, whose face had drained of all color.
Only then did she realize–everything I’d said was true.
a
Whitmore was love? He just
Chapter 7
