"Stay away! Don't come near me!" Kayla screamed, hiding terrified behind Myra. Myra, unable to bear Kayla's distress, immediately ordered the mansion staff and bodyguards to restrain the intruders.

This only escalated the situation. Howell punched at the staff, while Tabitha, with audacious disregard, began tearing off her clothes, threatening, "Go ahead, touch me! I'll accuse you of assault!" The staff, though accustomed to difficult individuals, had never encountered such shamelessness. Hesitant to act, the bodyguards were quickly overwhelmed by Tabitha's shrill voice, which echoed through the mansion.

Even the usually composed Myra finally snapped. Her face hardening, she demanded, "Enough! Tell me how much you want!"

Seeing their advantage, Howell ceased his assault, and Tabitha stopped disrobing. Shawn stepped forward, smirking. "Fifty million dollars. Give us fifty million, and we leave. You'll never see us again."

Fifty million? Everyone gasped except Felicia. They had witnessed greed, but never on this scale.

Dexter, furious, retorted, "Absolutely not!" It wasn't the money; he refused to be extorted.

Shawn sneered. "Fine. Then we'll take my sister. Being the richest man in town doesn't mean you can hold our family hostage."

He was right; reclaiming their daughter was paramount. Howell and Tabitha lunged forward, seizing Kayla.

Myra, frantic, instinctively looked at Felicia, who had remained silent. After eighteen years as her adoptive family, couldn't she intervene?

Felicia's gaze, filled with disappointment, coldness, and hurt, met Myra's. Myra's frustration and disappointment in Felicia, more painful than she realized, left Felicia feeling a wave of bitterness.

Myra had seen firsthand this family's depravity. Yet, her immediate instinct was to protect Kayla, to resent Felicia's inaction, rather than to empathize with her biological daughter's eighteen years of suffering.

Eighteen years Felicia had longed for her parents' love, receiving only Howell and Tabitha's abuse. Now, reunited with her real mother, her attention remained elsewhere. In both lives, the love she craved remained a dream.

Stung by Felicia's look, Myra felt regret. Before she could speak, Felicia rose, approaching Howell and Tabitha.

"Let her go. I'll come with you," Felicia said calmly.

Kayla, eager to be rid of them, nodded. "Yes! Blood ties don't matter as much as the bonds we've formed. My real parents raised me, and I'll honor them. I don't want anything to do with these people!"

Before anyone could react, Myra's voice, almost hysterical, broke the silence: "No!"

Felicia smiled bitterly. "Kayla is right. I owe those who raised me, so I should go."

Myra wanted it all – both daughters – and couldn't bear to lose either. "Fine! Fifty million," she snarled, writing a check and throwing it at them. "Take it and get out! And you have no further connection to my daughter, understood?"

"Yes, yes!" Shawn exclaimed, his face alight with joy as he examined the check, his hands trembling.

Kayla, however, panicked, clinging to Myra and pleading, as she often did, "Mom, let Felicia go! Let's leave things as they are. No one's life has to change. Isn't that better?"

Myra thought she'd misheard. The suggestion was ludicrous, but Kayla's tearful plea swayed her.

"Kayla, you can't say that. Felicia is my daughter, as are you. That won't change."

"I know, Mom," Kayla said, forcing a sweet smile.

Myra patted her head, then turned to Shawn's family, her face darkening. "Get lost!"

Satisfied, Shawn's family departed. The chaos ended.

Felicia turned to leave, but Myra stopped her. "Felicia, I'm sorry. Please don't be upset," Myra pleaded, her voice wavering, her eyes red. "Don't you want your mother anymore?"

In her past life, Shawn had crushed Felicia's hand. Only she could have healed it, but the nerve damage was irreversible. Then, facing Shawn's threat to take Kayla, Myra had dropped the charges and paid him off. That was the first abandonment. She'd promised a grand party announcing Felicia's return, but Kayla's pleas to avoid ridicule led to Felicia remaining the adopted daughter—the second abandonment. And there had been more.

"So, what's my role this time, Mom?" Felicia thought, tears welling.

"You're my daughter, my real daughter! The one I carried for nine months!" Myra cried, overcome with guilt. "I'll announce your true identity. You'll have nothing to do with them. You are my daughter, the heiress!"

Felicia remained unreactive, but Kayla paled. "Mom, if you announce Felicia's identity, my friends will laugh at me!" Myra had considered this. Both were her daughters, and finding a perfect solution eluded her.

Sobbing, Kayla suggested, "What if we say Felicia is adopted? She can stay, and no one will make fun of me…"

Myra considered it. "Well, I—"

Felicia couldn't bear it any longer and started to leave. Myra grabbed her arm, revealing the scars on Felicia's arm – old and new bruises, a testament to years of abuse. Myra's heart ached.

"Who did this?" Myra demanded furiously.

Felicia calmly covered the scars. "It's been like this since I was little. I'm used to it."

Her casual tone struck Myra with the full force of her neglect. She had showered another's daughter with love while her own endured a life of suffering.

Anger and guilt consumed her. Her heart ached. She turned to Dexter. "Honey, make the arrangements. Next Sunday, I'm announcing my daughter's return!"