Chapter 169

Stacey’s new job was a whirlwind, but Patrick’s guidance smoothed the way. Then, "The Empress" premiered. It exploded onto the scene, exactly as predicted. Claims of plagiarism from "Her Majesty" fizzled quickly; the difference was undeniable. "The Empress" was breathtaking. The costumes, the cinematography, the performances—every frame a masterpiece. Fans screamed, screenshotted, and tweeted their adoration. Short-video creators rejoiced. Finally, a show worthy of a viral sensation! And "Her Majesty," with its suspiciously similar plot, became the perfect foil for countless comparison videos. Bloggers playfully dubbed "The Empress" the original, "Her Majesty" the imitation, the disparity in quality glaring.

At Mitchell Villa, Janet tossed and turned. Her meticulously planned, expensively produced "Her Majesty," launched to preempt "The Empress," had backfired spectacularly. She'd envisioned herself lauded above Rebecca, her acting skills universally praised. Instead, she watched in horror as video after video crowned Rebecca’s performance superior. The bold “ORIGINAL” and “IMITATION” labels felt like a personal insult. “Impossible!” she raged. “This can’t be right!”

The more she compared, the more frantic she became. Charlotte’s effortless grace on screen was undeniable. Janet refused to concede. Rebecca, a newcomer with a year of experience and no formal training, couldn’t possibly be better. It was all Carter family hype, she insisted.

Then a thought struck her. “Her Majesty” had been rushed into production. No time for rehearsals. Perhaps that was it? She’d lost because of a lack of preparation. Slowly, her panic subsided.

But next door, in the master bedroom, Karen was unraveling. A shocking claim—that Janet wasn’t her biological daughter—had shaken her to her core. Initially dismissing it as nonsense, the memory of Janet’s birth vivid in her mind, she’d scoffed. But then came the paternity test report. She’d chased the messenger away, cursing, but the seed of doubt had taken root. Finally, she couldn't bear it any longer and went to Janet's room.

Janet, lying in a sullen heap, looked up as Karen entered. "Mom?" she asked, surprised.

Karen’s gaze lingered. Janet had never truly resembled either her or Gary. But she’d never questioned it. Now, the messenger’s words—a mix-up at the fertility clinic—haunted her.

Janet frowned. "Mom? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Karen stammered, shaking her head. "It's nothing."

"Is there something you need?" Janet pressed.

Karen hesitated, then blurted, "Janet, Rebecca’s show… people are talking…"

"Mom!" Janet snapped, her face darkening. She knew. The comparisons, the ridicule—it stung. "Why bring this up? She’s cut ties with us!"

Karen remained silent, her usual defensiveness absent. Janet’s confusion deepened. "Did you come in just to talk about this?"

Karen finally reacted, reaching out and snatching a strand of Janet’s hair. A visible wave of relief washed over her as she let it fall. "It's nothing," she mumbled, "I was just worried. Those people are blind! Rebecca’s only better because the Carters spent a fortune. It's all about the costumes and makeup!"