Chapter 1

The autumn wind was cold and biting. It was past nine at night, and outside the emergency room, Shermaine Shue leaned against the hallway wall in a thin black evening dress, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture lazy and sultry.

She let out a slow yawn, looking like she was about to drift off.

A nurse walking by couldn’t help sneaking a glance at her and immediately got caught off guard by her beauty. Shermaine was just too gorgeous, like a siren born to steal hearts, sweet but dangerous. Her skin was flawless and radiant, and her eyes were mesmerizing. When she smiled, there was this teasing charm about her, alluring but never cheap. Her irises were a lighter shade, clear and sparkling. With a light smirk, she was the perfect mix of bold and innocent, elegant with a wild edge.

She was absolutely beautiful, and the body under that evening dress had curves in all the right places, every line dripping with sex appeal.

And yet, Shermaine had apparently sent a six-foot-tall guy straight into the ER. Word was, the dude ended up with a broken hand and a mild concussion.

She glanced over at the nurse and caught her staring, wide-eyed and dazed. Shermaine couldn’t help but chuckle, her tone playful, “Do I look good?”

Without thinking, the nurse blurted out, “You look amazing.”

Shermaine’s smile widened, a mix of devil-may-care cool and breathtaking beauty. Watching her pull off that combo of gorgeous and badass, the nurse felt her heart skip a beat. She thought, ‘Am I seriously about to switch teams right now?’

Just then, another woman, gentle and delicate, walked over from a different direction and spoke softly, “Shermaine, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

The nurse thought, ‘So her name’s Shermaine. What a beautiful name.’

The other woman was wearing a white embroidered dress with a cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders. She looked extra elegant, like a pure lily blooming quietly in a world of its own. However, when she stood next to Shermaine, all her glow seemed to fade away.

Shermaine glanced at the woman named Wendelyn Jean, who had called her so warmly, her expression still cool. They weren’t related by blood. After Shermaine was brought back into the Jean family, the two of them were sisters in name only.

Shermaine had grown up an orphan, living off the kindness of strangers. She never would have dreamed that on her nineteenth birthday, a man named Ross Jean, claiming to be her older brother, would show up and tell her she was the heiress of the Jean family in Basterel.

“Shermaine, come home with me,” Ross had said.

Basterel had a handful of famous old-money families, and the Jeans were one of the biggest names. Shermaine had always longed for a real family, but after returning to the Jean family, she realized her parents were nothing like what she had imagined. They didn’t like her at all. Instead, all their affection was still wrapped around Wendelyn, the daughter they had adopted and spoiled after losing Shermaine. Even after Shermaine came back, nothing had changed. There was never any real love left for her.

Shermaine had tried to win it. But half a month later, nothing had shifted. If it weren’t for Ross, her brother who had brought her back and actually treated her well, Shermaine honestly wouldn’t have wanted to stay any longer. She figured it made sense she grew up alone. Even if she wasn’t the heiress, it didn’t matter to her. She didn’t care. She didn’t need any elit.

Shermaine asked lightly, “Can I go home now?”

“Not yet. Mom wants to see you,” Wendelyn said with a soft smile.

“Alright,” Shermaine replied.

The man Shermaine had broken the bones of was Ronnie Leeds, heir to the Leeds Group. The Leeds family held a middle-tier status in Basterel, not quite at the top, but not at the bottom either, and they had business dealings with the Jean family.

Today was the day Shermaine was formally acknowledged and welcomed back into her biological family. The Jean family had thrown her a lavish, extravagant party to publicly confirm her identity. Shermaine hadn’t meant to cause any trouble. It was just that Ronnie’s mouth had been way too foul, and on top of that, he had tried to take advantage of her.

Inside the hospital room, Ronnie lay on the bed. The moment he saw Shermaine, his face twisted, full of fear, rage, and shame.

Ronnie’s mother, Amira Leeds, glared at Shermaine with clear dissatisfaction, her voice sharp with the fierce protectiveness of a parent. She said sarcastically, “If I had such a vulgar daughter, even if she were my own, I wouldn’t let her out in public to be a disgrace to the family. But you Jeans are just too kindhearted for your own good, letting her loose without even teaching her basic manners.”

Standing next to Amira was a woman with an air of elegance and nobility, her expression ice-cold. “Shermaine, apologize to Ronnie,” said Ruth Jean, Shermaine’s mother.

Hearing this, Shermaine responded flatly, “Why should I apologize?”

Just that one sentence was enough to make Ruth’s face darken with barely concealed anger. She thought her biological daughter was not only unruly but also constantly stirring up trouble and causing chaos wherever she went.

Ruth took a slow breath. “You hit someone. That’s wrong. Come over here and apologize.”

Shermaine was deeply disappointed and thought, ‘As a mother, shouldn’t she be asking what happened first? Shouldn’t she find out why I hit Ronnie instead of scolding me right away without even hearing the full story?’

She said calmly, “I did hit him, but I’m not gonna apologize.” She figured Ronnie was nothing but trash. He didn’t deserve an apology. Honestly, she had gone easy on him and let him off with a broken bone.

“You brat,” Ruth snapped. She was famous for her gentle and elegant image in their circles, but now she raised her hand as if ready to slap Shermaine.

Shermaine didn’t dodge. She was about to lift her hand to block it when someone stepped in front of her, taking the furious slap for her.

Wendelyn’s head jerked to the side, a red mark quickly blooming across her cheek. Her voice was so soft as she said, “Mom, let’s just talk it out, okay? Don’t hit Shermaine.”

Ruth froze for a second. When she realized she had hit Wendelyn by mistake, her anger instantly turned to worry. “You dummy, what were you thinking jumping in like that?”

Wendelyn’s cheek was still flushed, but her voice stayed gentle. “Mom, even if Shermaine made some mistakes, if you talk to her nicely, she’ll listen.”

Ruth didn’t calm down because of Wendelyn’s words. In fact, seeing her slap land on Wendelyn only made her even angrier. She looked at Shermaine, her expression growing darker by the second.

Ruth thought, ‘What biological daughter? She’s nothing but a walking disaster, always here to make my life miserable!’ There was nothing about Shermaine that Ruth could find even remotely satisfying.

Watching all of this unfold, Shermaine gave a slight smirk and thought, ‘What a damn act.’ She let out a cold laugh. “Wendelyn, isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

Wendelyn’s cheeks flushed deeper as she looked up, her face full of innocent confusion.

“Alright then, tell me. What exactly did I do wrong?” Shermaine’s tone wasn’t harsh. It was lazy, almost casual, but she still carried that undeniable air of superiority.

Wendelyn bit her lip. “You hit someone.”

Shermaine’s voice was still light but pressing. “Didn’t I hit him because Ronnie’s a piece of trash who deserved it?”

Wendelyn’s eyes shifted. “Do you have any proof?”

Shermaine thought, ‘Proof? If I really wanted it, it wouldn’t even be hard.’ If someone gave her a laptop, she could pull up the evidence right away. The only problem was she didn’t even have a phone on her right now, let alone a computer.

For a moment, Shermaine stayed silent.

“There must be some misunderstanding between you two,” Wendelyn said, her voice all-knowing and wise. “Shermaine, don’t let your emotions get the better of you.”

Shermaine looked at her with a complicated, unreadable expression. Ever since she came back home, Wendelyn had actually been resisting her presence, constantly picking at her and showing off. But Shermaine wasn’t some pushover. If someone really pissed her off, she would even steal their man.

Shermaine had heard Wendelyn had a big crush on someone – Joshua York, heir to the York family of Basterel. The York family was one of the city’s absolute elite. They had deep roots and their descendants thrived across all kinds of industries. And as luck would have it, there was already a marriage arrangement between the Yorks and the Jeans. If Shermaine hadn’t shown up, rumor had it Wendelyn would’ve been the one to marry Joshua. But really, it wasn’t even fair to say Shermaine stole Wendelyn’s fiancé. The engagement with Joshua had always been Shermaine’s to begin with.

Hearing Shermaine call her son trash completely set Amira off. Amira shot to her feet, shouting, “Ruth, listen to your daughter. Does that sound like anything a decent person would say?”

“If you don’t give me an explanation tonight, I’ll march her straight to the police. By tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know the Jean family’s so-called heiress is nothing but a loud, uncultured thug. A total joke.”

Ruth stayed unmoved, her face cold as she made it clear she was ready to punish Shermaine. “It’s my fault for raising her poorly. Do whatever you want with her,” she said as she smoothed down her clothes/“Wendy, let’s go home.”

Wendelyn hesitated. “But Shermaine-”

“Forget her,” Ruth cut in sharply, her expression chilling. “She made this mess. Let her deal with it.” In her mind, this was exactly what Shermaine deserved for not listening to her.

Wendelyn looked like she wanted to say something but ended up staying silent. She was very pleased with the outcome. She thought, ‘As long as I’m here in the Jean family, Shermaine can forget about ever replacing me. She’ll see soon enough that just flashing the heiress title doesn’t mean people will like her. It sure as hell won’t get her anywhere.’

On the way back to the Jean residence, Wendelyn seemed deep in thought before asking, “Mom, do you know where things stand with the York family?”

At tonight’s party, Joshua was supposed to show up, but he never did. Wendelyn figured he probably didn’t take the engagement seriously at all.

“With a temper like Shermaine’s, there’s no way the York family would ever let Joshua marry her. And an outstanding man like Joshua probably wouldn’t be interested in her anyway,” Ruth said, frowning with worry. “This engagement might not hold up after all.”

If the engagement fell through, it would be a huge blow to the Jean family.

Wendelyn bit her lip and made her move. “Mom, you still have me, don’t you? I’ve loved Mr. York for years. Please help me.”

After Ruth left with Wendelyn, Amira finally realized where Shermaine stood in the Jean family. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled out her phone and called the police.

Shermaine stayed as indifferent and unbothered as ever. She figured if she had to go to the police station, so be it. She had no money on her, no phone either, so she might as well head over, borrow a computer or something, clear her name, and take back her dignity.

Outside the hospital, a black Maybach rolled to a smooth stop. A man in a tailored suit stepped out.

He was tall, built solid and lean, dressed to the nines, exuding a mix of maturity, wealth, and effortless grace. His face wasn’t fully visible under the night sky, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. But even at a glance, it was obvious – he had to be devastatingly good-looking.

When he walked with unhurried steps into the light, the sight of him stunned everyone nearby. His refined, handsome looks were flawless, as if he had stepped right out of a dream. There weren’t many men in Basterel who had that kind of looks and presence, but among them, Joshua York was hands-down the most famous. He was the textbook definition of male perfection.

And right now, it was Joshua himself. No one would’ve guessed that the man usually seen only in finance reports would suddenly show up at a hospital at a time like this.

Joshua held his phone, his tone cool. “Grandpa, I’ll keep an eye on her situation and handle it.”

“Try to be a little nicer, alright? Don’t scare off my future granddaughter-in-law,” Owen York, Joshua’s grandfather, reminded him from the other end of the line.

“Got it. Hanging up,” Joshua said.

Everyone’s attention was on Joshua. No one noticed the clean-cut young man following right behind him. The man walked up and reported, “Mr. York, we found out that Ms. Shue hit Ronnie because he insulted her and tried to get handsy, thinking she was pretty.”

The man was Bradley Webb, Joshua’s assistant.

Joshua gave a soft hum in response.

Bradley glanced at the file in his hand and scoffed, “Ronnie’s pathetic. He’s trained in kickboxing for five years and still got knocked out by Ms. Shue in under three moves.”

He thought, ‘Five years of kickboxing, and he’s basically learned nothing.’

Bradley continued, “But Ms. Shue’s situation’s not great either. Ten minutes ago, Mrs. Jean already left the hospital, completely washing her hands of her. And Mrs. Leeds called the cops. They’re on their way now.”

Joshua lifted his eyes slightly and asked, “What floor is she on?”

“Eighth floor,” Bradley answered.

Amira heard a knock at the door outside the hospital room and thought it was the police. But when she looked up and saw that it was actually Joshua, her expression changed instantly.

She had no idea why he would be here, and she had a sinking feeling.

Amira’s expression shifted slightly, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Mr. York, what brings you here?”