Sebastian sighed, clearly frustrated. "I thought you liked swans?"

"Well, I don't like them anymore!" Kayla replied, her tone confident and unapologetic. Her animated expression lent a playful charm to her bratty behavior, making it oddly endearing.

To Sebastian, the necklaces were simply necklaces—the pendants were the only difference. He wasn't about to create a scene, let alone argue with his sister. He turned to Felicia instead. "Do you like it? If not, I'll get you the same one tomorrow."

Felicia offered a faint smile. When she was little, she'd found an old discarded doll. She'd carefully cleaned it, mended its tears, and even made it a dress. It wasn't much, but it was hers, a treasured possession. One day, a visiting relative's child demanded the doll. Before Felicia could react, her foster mother, Tabitha, snatched it away without hesitation. People who possessed everything couldn't understand how much those with little cherished what they had. It was even harder to explain the feeling of having those small treasures repeatedly taken.

Felicia looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze. "It's fine, Sebastian," she said softly. She didn't need the necklace; she didn't want it. Though she didn't seem angry, Sebastian sensed a change. The fragile warmth she'd shown him froze, replaced by the same indifference she'd displayed before. Soon after, Arnold arrived with two beautifully wrapped gifts. Felicia barely acknowledged him, remaining quietly to the side, her expression unreadable.

Meanwhile, Kayla thrived, basking in the attention of her friends and admirers. Occasionally, she glanced at Felicia, clenching her jaw as she silently cursed Shawn for his failure. Everything else, however, was proceeding as planned. Kayla was the center of attention, radiant on her glamorous nineteenth birthday.

Amid cheers and applause, a stunning cake was wheeled out. Layer upon layer, it towered—twelve layers in all. Each step was taken with extreme care.

"Wow, what a huge cake! It's gorgeous!" a voice exclaimed.

"Make a wish! Come on, Ms. Kayla—our little princess—time to make a wish!"

Friends hyped the moment, subtly nudging Arnold closer to Kayla.

Kayla beamed, linking her arm through Arnold's, holding him captive. "Arnie, make a wish with me! Come on, let's do it together!"

Arnold attempted to pull away, but the crowd prevented his escape. Reluctantly, he remained, his discomfort masked by a polite smile.

Kayla clasped her hands, closed her eyes, and basked in the moment. The attention, admiration, and envy fueled her confidence as she silently made her wish: to inherit the Fuller family fortune, to possess Arnold forever, and to be rid of Felicia. As her wish list continued, the sound of doors slamming open shattered the festive atmosphere.

Before anyone could react, reporters flooded the hall, cameras flashing, questions flying. Leading them was Mina, who should have been recovering in the hospital. Holding a memory card aloft, she strode in, her eyes scanning the stunned faces before fixing on Kayla with pure hatred.

Her voice, sharp and accusatory, rang out: "The woman standing before you, Kayla, is a murderer!"

Shockwaves rippled through the hall.

"My husband, Ruben, was her driver," Mina continued, her voice trembling with rage. "He discovered her hiring a hitman and paid the price with his life. She had him killed and dumped his body in the river!" She raised the memory card. "And I have the proof—the evidence of her crimes—right here!"