Irina's POV
The blizzard had been pounding Hillview for three straight days, smothering everything under a crushing layer of white. The Bernard mansion stood like some ice-covered prison.
And there I was, watching the butler chuck my suitcase onto the frozen driveway.
"Ms. Brent, Mr. Bernard's direct orders: you're out today. The Bernard family showed you charity by taking you in, but now that their true daughter is back, we don't need you anymore," the butler sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.
He threw a piece of paper and a card at the ground near my feet. "Information about your real parents, the Brent. Plus five grand.
Call it payment for the years you lived under our roof."
I didn't even look at the card. "Keep it."
"Take this too," the butler scoffed, flinging down another document—an official disownment paper.
I ignored that as well, hoisting my bags onto my shoulder. If I wanted to track down my real family, I'd do it my way. I wasn't taking one dollar from these people.
The butler stared at me with pure disgust.
'What an idiot,' he thought. 'Too stubborn for her own good. Doesn't she get it? Now that the real Bernard daughter's home, why would they keep some random girl like her? That cash is more than she's worth.'
"Well then, goodbye, Ms. Brent." He sneered one last time before slamming the door.
I didn't even flinch. Chin up, I walked away, my small figure cutting through the swirling snow. No sadness hit me—the Bernard family never showed me love, so why should I miss them?
From a window above, laughter echoed as snowballs splashed near my feet.
"Thank God she's finally gone. Now nothing's blocking Annie's path."
"She never fit in here anyway. I was worried she might refuse to go."
I caught every word. A cold smile crossed my lips, my face as unreadable as the storm around me. I caught a snowflake on my palm and breathed out slowly. 'Good riddance.'
——
In a traditional courtyard in Anastasia, the Brent family had called an emergency meeting.
Mathew Brent, the family patriarch, sat at the center wearing a crisp suit that demanded respect. His harsh voice sliced through the thick silence as he glared at his grandsons. "You call yourselves capable? It's been over ten years, and you still haven't located Sadie?"
The Brent brothers ranked among Anastasia's most powerful men, each successful and intimidating. Yet here they stood with bowed heads, shame and regret eating at their hearts.
They were the ones who'd lost her. Their baby sister, Sadie, had been the sweetest kid—quiet, gentle, always grinning like an adorable doll. That fateful day, they'd been careless, distracted by their own activities, and in a split second, she was gone.
For fifteen years, they'd followed every clue, but the trail went dead after tracking her to a human trafficking ring. By the time they reached that town, Sadie had already disappeared completely.
"Grandfather," one of them said, voice steady with determination. "I'll deploy everyone right away. We won't quit until we bring her home."
Before Mathew could answer, a breathless assistant burst in, gripping a stack of papers. His hands shook as he stuttered, "Sir, we—we found her! We've located Ms. Sadie Brent."
Mathew jumped up, his own hands trembling as he grabbed the documents. "Where is she? Take me there now."
"Hillview," the assistant blurted. "We don't have her exact address yet, but the confirmation is solid—she's there."
Mathew didn't hesitate. "Prep the car. We're heading to Hillview right now."
——
Irina's POV
After the Bernard family kicked me out, I didn't go back to the orphanage. I waited for the snow to let up. Night had fallen by the time I finally dragged myself back to my apartment, a simple place in one of Hillview's older buildings.
As I pulled up, my neighbor Flora shouted, "Irina, you're home late. Want to join us for dinner?"
I gave her a weary but polite smile. "Thanks, Flora, but I'm watching my carbs."
Downstairs, Natalia, who ran the yogurt stand, handed me a cup. "Haven't seen you in ages! My back's been acting up."
"Yeah, and my vision's getting fuzzy," another elderly neighbor added. "We've been hoping you'd come check on us."
I was popular in this old building. Most residents were retired government workers who enjoyed chatting with me. I was polite, caring, and never pried into their backgrounds, which made me their favorite.
The neighborhood looked ordinary, but it was packed with hidden talent. Even Natalia used to be Anastasia's top fashion designer, her creations worth millions.
I never asked questions, though. I lived here simply because Vera Rodney, the orphanage director, was close by, making visits convenient.
I crossed my arms, studied their faces, and sighed. "Tomorrow afternoon, I'll run a free clinic in the main square. And remember what I told you? Stick to my meal plan and ease up on the TV. That revenge show isn't disappearing."
Recently, the seniors had gotten hooked on some popular revenge series, staying up all night and ignoring their health.
Busted, they shared guilty looks. "Fine, fine, we'll listen to you, Irina."
It was amazing how these accomplished people—some with mysterious backgrounds—would take direction from a young woman like me.
"Dr. Brent, you're back." A cheerful guy in a dress shirt rushed over, relief flooding his face. He'd been waiting for my return.
I stepped back as he got too close. "Palmer, give me some space."
Embarrassed, he scratched his head and held out a key. "Sorry, I just missed you. Don't worry, though. I watched your place. Nobody bothered it."
"Thanks." I nodded and handed him some oranges.
Palmer beamed, shooting a pointed glance at the others. They were always bugging me, and it got on his nerves. "Thanks. So... you're staying put this time?"
"Yeah," I said, pocketing the key. "I'm not going anywhere."
Palmer grinned. "Perfect. Stop by when you get a chance. Oh, it's getting late. Get some sleep. Call if you need anything. Day or night."
With a small smile, I nodded and headed inside.
After they scattered, I unlocked my door. The outside lock was basic, rusted and forgettable.
But inside was a different world. Past several reinforced locks stood a high-tech door with a biometric scanner. "Facial recognition required," a robotic voice announced.
I angled my face toward the screen. "Go ahead."
"Scanning... Authentication successful. Welcome home, Master." The familiar automated greeting, silent for weeks, signaled the door's opening.
As it slid apart, lights came on, revealing a space that completely contradicted the building's rundown exterior.
Shelves overflowed with containers of exotic dried herbs, while ancient medical books covered the walls. The balcony served as a makeshift greenhouse, flourishing with healing plants.
Taking up the living room was a huge display screen, its interface monitoring live changes in global microchip markets.
I grabbed a piece of cake from the kitchen and settled in, finally ready to watch that addictive revenge drama everyone kept mentioning.
Then my phone exploded with its annoying custom ringtone: "Irina, jobs coming. Money coming! Irina, jobs coming. Money—"
I slammed my hand on the answer button. "What?"
"Boss, profitable gig in Hillview," my subordinate said. "Worth our attention?"
Massaging my temples, I sighed. "Details."
"Anastasia's richest patriarch is offering 10 million to locate his missing granddaughter. Intelligence points to her being somewhere in Hillview."
I stretched lazily. "Missing heiress recovery? Not interested. Got anything actually challenging, or should I hang up?"
"Hold on! Here's another one, and you'll love this."
"Really? Let's hear it."
"The Shaw family just posted a reward—15 mil for information on you, 25 for a consultation. Even solid leads get 1.5."
That caught my attention. I put down my phone. "Wow, that's serious money. Now that's intriguing. Show me."
"Coming right up."