Vivian's POV
I throw my phone across the room and watch it bounce off my bed.
How dare she?
Mira just told me she wants Adrian. Adrian. The brother I already picked. The one who's actually worth something.
My hands are shaking—not from fear, from anger. My stupid little sister never wants anything. She just follows me around like a lost dog, agreeing with everything I say. And now, today of all days, she chooses to grow a spine?
"No," I say out loud to my empty room. "Absolutely not."
I walk to my mirror and stare at myself. Twenty-seven years old. Beautiful. Smart. I deserve the best, and the best is Adrian Blackwell. He's thirty-two, a CEO, and so rich that his family name alone opens every door in this city.
Mira can have Ethan. The younger brother is beautiful and charming, sure, but he's not the heir. He's not the one with real power. He's second place, and I don't do second place.
I never have.
My phone buzzes where it fell on my bed. I grab it, expecting another annoying text from Mira, but it's from Mom: "Remember, tonight is important. Both of you need to make good impressions. Our family is counting on you."
Our family. She means our debt. Dad's failed business. The house we're about to lose. The embarrassment of being "the poor Chens" after years of being admired.
That's why tonight matters so much. The Blackwell boys need wives—some stupid rule their father made about marriage and inheritance. And Mom made sure we got invited to their party because we're pretty enough and educated enough to be accepted.
We're goods being sold, basically. But I'm okay with that if I get to pick which customer I want.
And I want Adrian.
I pick out my red dress—the one that cost half my savings but makes me look amazing. Mira will probably wear something boring and safe. She always does. She doesn't understand that life is a game, and if you're not fighting to win, you're losing.
Another buzz. This time it's a text from a number I don't know: "I have information about your sister you'll want to hear. Meet me at Coffee Bay at 4:45 PM. Come alone."
I stare at the message, my heart beating faster.
Information about Mira? What kind of information?
I check the time. It's 4:15. I could make it to Coffee Bay and back before I need to pick up Mira for the party. But who would text me about my sister? And how did they get my number?
My finger hovers over the delete button. This could be some scam. Some weirdo trying to cause trouble.
But what if it's real? What if Mira is hiding something that could ruin tonight for both of us?
I grab my bag and keys. I'll go. Even if it's nothing, at least I'll know.
The drive to Coffee Bay takes twelve minutes. It's a small coffee shop near downtown, the kind of place where college students study and nobody pays attention to anyone else. Perfect for a secret meeting, I guess.
I walk inside and look around. A few guys on laptops. A couple eating a muffin. An old man reading a newspaper.
Then I see him.
A man in a business suit sits alone at a corner table, watching me. He's maybe forty, with gray hair at his temples and eyes that make me nervous. Like he knows things he shouldn't.
He nods at the empty chair across from him.
I walk over slowly, my hands gripping my bag. "Did you text me?"
"Sit down, Vivian." His voice is smooth, calm. Like we're old friends instead of strangers.
I don't sit. "Who are you? And what do you want?"
"I'm someone who can help you get what you want tonight." He slides a box across the table. "And what you want is Adrian Blackwell."
My breath catches. How does he know that?
"I don't know what you're talking about." But I sit down anyway because my legs feel shaky.
The man smiles. "You're going to the Blackwell gala tonight. You plan to make Adrian notice you. You think your sister is your only competition, but you're wrong."
"Wrong about what?"
He taps the box. "Open it."
My hands shake as I flip it open. Inside are pictures. Bank statements. Documents I don't understand at first.
Then I see the numbers.
Eight million dollars. In an account with Mira's name on it.
"That's impossible," I say. "Mira doesn't have money. We're broke. Our whole family is broke."
"Your family is broke," the man corrects. "Your sister is not. Your grandma left her everything. She's been hiding it from all of you for two years."
The words hit me like a slap. Grandma died two years ago. She left money to Mira? Eight million dollars? And Mira never told anyone?
My hands clench into fists. "Why would she hide this? While Mom and Dad are sinking in debt, she's been sitting on millions?"
"Good question." The man leans back in his chair. "But here's the better question—what's she planning to do with that money tonight?"
I look up at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it, Vivian. Your sister suddenly wants Adrian. The rich, powerful brother. The one who doesn't need money because he already has it." He stops. "What if Mira isn't after Adrian for love? What if she's going to invest in his company? To buy her way into his life using money you didn't even know she had?"
My stomach twists. That would be just like Mira. Sweet, quiet Mira who everyone thinks is so innocent. She's been lying to our whole family for two years. Lying while watching Mom cry about bills. Lying while Dad worked three jobs.
"She's a snake," I breathe.
"She's smart," the man corrects. "And if you walk into that party tonight not knowing what she's really after, you'll lose before you even start."
I stare at the papers, my mind racing. Mira has eight million dollars. Mira wants Adrian. Mira has been lying to everyone.
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask quickly. "What do you get out of it?"
The man's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Let's just say I have an interest in making sure the Blackwell boys marry the right women. And your sister is not the right woman for Adrian."
"But I am?"
"That depends on what you do with this information." He stands up. "Use it wisely, Vivian. And remember—your sister isn't who you think she is."
He walks out, leaving me alone with the folder.
My phone alarm goes off. 5:30 PM. I'm supposed to pick up Mira in thirty minutes.
I shove the folder into my bag, my mind spinning. Should I challenge her? Should I tell Mom and Dad? Should I—
Wait.
Something the man said bothers me. How did he know about Mira's money? How did he get bank statements? And why does he care who the Blackwell boys marry?
Unless...
Unless this is all a lie. A trick. Someone trying to turn me against my sister right before the most important night of our lives.
But the papers looked real. The numbers looked real.
I don't know what to believe anymore.
I drive to Mira's flat, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard they hurt. When she gets in the car, she's wearing a simple dress—nothing special, nothing that screams "I'm secretly a millionaire."
"Hey," she says softly. "Thanks for picking me up."
I look at her—really look at her. Is she a liar? A manipulator? Or is someone trying to make me think she is?
"Mira," I hear myself say. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Before tonight?"
She blinks. "Like what?"
"Like anything. Anything important. Anything about... money?"
Her face goes pale. Actually pale, like she's seen a ghost.
And that's when I know.
The man was telling the truth.
My sister has been lying to me this whole time.
"Vivian, I—" Mira starts, but my phone rings before she can finish.
I answer it without checking who's calling. "What?"
"Vivian Chen?" A woman's voice, professional and cold. "This is Detective Sarah Park. We need you to come to the police station immediately. It's about your grandmother's death. We have new information suggesting it wasn't natural causes."
The phone slips from my hand.
Grandma didn't die naturally?
She was murdered?