The Orphan Who Inherited A Dynasty

The night of my bachelorette party, I lost control and ended up spending a wild, chaotic night with my high school nemesis, Tristan.

The moment the haze cleared and I realized what had happened, a cold dread seized me. I immediately called my boyfriend, Roger.

I expected panic, or at least anger. Instead, his voice through the receiver was chillingly detached.

"Im the one who set it up."

"The Montgomery family is preparing to officially recognize me. Im going to be their heir soon, Gemma. We aren't from the same social class anymore."

"Besides, Melody and I have been together behind your back for a long time."

He paused, his tone shifting into something disgustingly apologetic and innocent.

"I know Tristan did some awful things to you back in the day, but his family is incredibly wealthy. Honestly, marrying him is a step up for an orphan like you."

My entire body began to shake. I couldn't comprehend how the man I had loved for so many years could turn into such a ruthless backstabber.

But there was one thing he didn't know.

The child the Montgomery family had been searching for, the one they were about to bring home, was actually me.

Just a few hours earlier, Roger had stood in front of our friends and family, swearing to love me unconditionally after our wedding. I had believed every single lie, letting myself get swept up in the celebration, drinking glass after glass of champagne.

Now, he sounded like an entirely different person.

"Ive already received a handwritten letter from Mrs. Montgomery, my biological mother," Roger said, his voice dripping with cold arrogance. "Theyre picking me up in a week. You know how old money families are. They would never allow an orphan with no background to marry into their dynasty. Tristan is truly your best option now."

A sharp pain flared in my throat, as if a thousand needles were pressing against my vocal cords. It took everything I had to choke out a few words. "Did you actually run a DNA test?"

"Enough!" Roger roared. I could practically see his handsome face twisting into an irritated scowl. "We don't need a test. The letter used my childhood nickname, Hope. How could there be a mistake?"

"Gemma, you're just jealous. You were always like this at the orphanage, getting envious whenever other kids got adopted. You haven't changed a bit."

He slammed the phone down, ending the call.

My ears buzzed in the sudden silence, his parting words echoing in my mind.

Hope.

He had completely forgotten that I, too, was called Hope.

At the orphanage, we used to stand together by the window on the second floor, watching other children get led away by their new parents. One of the older caretakers used to tease us, calling us Big Hope and Little Hope, promising that one day we would both find the families we longed for.

Who would have thought Id end up hoping for a traitor?

I unlocked my phone, staring at the digital copy of the certified DNA report sitting in my inbox. I had verified it three times. I was the actual biological child of the Montgomery family.

I had planned to surprise Roger with the news tonight.

Now, hot tears spilled over my eyelashes.

A hand suddenly clamped down on my bare shoulder. I flinched, instantly shoving Tristan away as he sat up in the bed.

Tristan didn't seem bothered. A wicked, knowing smirk spread across his lips. "We already did the deed, Gemma. What are you playing shy for?"

"I told you years ago that Roger never loved you. His heart has always belonged to my little sister, Melody."

"Back in high school, I found his journal. Every single page was covered in her name. I beat him within an inch of his life on the school roof to make him stay away from her. Honestly, if he hadn't been chosen by the Montgomery family, I would never have allowed my sister to associate with him."

A wave of dizzying pain tore through my head. Memories from my past fractured and collided.

During high school, Tristan had been my primary tormentor. He would rip up my textbooks, laughing as he announced to the entire classroom that I was a cursed orphan who brought bad luck to everyone. Back then, I knew his family was powerful and that he was headed abroad for university. I kept my head down, swallowing the humiliation.

Then, one evening, Roger had found me. He was covered in deep bruises, barely able to stand, with tears shining in his eyes.

"Nobody will ever hurt you again," he had whispered.

He told me he had fought Tristan on the roof to protect me. But he had conveniently left out the part about Melody.

Looking back, I had to wonder: was that tear on his cheek shed out of relief for my safety, or out of heartbreak because he could no longer be with the girl he actually wanted?

Once, I would have answered without hesitation. Now, the truth felt like ash in my mouth.

On social media, Melody had just posted a new update.

It was a photo of two hands clasped together, a delicate ring sparkling on her ring finger. The band was shaped like a stalk of wheat.

It was a design I had created myself.

A few weeks ago, I had eagerly shown the sketch to Roger. I remembered the brief flare of excitement in his eyes before he quickly turned away, calling the design childish and cheap. Then, he had secretly taken my sketches and put the finished piece on Melody's finger.

Melody's caption read: An unforgettable bachelorette night. Ill never have to walk alone again!

I stared at the screen, a dry, bitter laugh escaping my lips.

My bachelorette party had been a setup, and my fiancs bachelor party was a celebration of his future with another woman. I was the only fool kept in the dark.

Tristan was a notorious trust-fund playboy who had even spent a brief stint in jail a few years back. He was toxic trash, yet in Rogers mind, trash was exactly what I deserved.

Tristan leaned back against the headboard, lazily lighting a cigarette. "A cursed girl like you is lucky to get someone like me. But if you don't want to be my official girl, I don't mind keeping you as a sidepiece. Just keep your phone on."

He blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into my face.

He hadn't changed at all. He was still the same arrogant bully.

Under his watchful, amused gaze, I picked up my phone with trembling fingers and dialed. "Id like to report a sexual assault."

At the police station, I forced myself to remain functional as the officers took my statement. I tried to reconstruct the timeline of the party. Everyone had been crowding around me, handing me drinks. I tried to recall who had handed me the glass that made my head spin, and who had guided my stumbling steps into Tristan's hotel suite.

But the more I tried to focus, the more the old high school memories intruded, bringing back the suffocating feelings of helplessness. My body began to shudder.

Roger had known about my trauma. He knew how much I feared and hated Tristan, yet he had engineered this nightmare anyway.

The betrayal hit me all at once, and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room slammed open. Roger rushed in, his face tight with apparent worry. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around me just like he had done a thousand times before.

For a split second, my body reacted to the familiar warmth, wanting to lean into the comfort. I looked up at his mouth, desperately hoping he would say this was all a horrible misunderstanding.

Instead, Roger pulled a flash drive from his pocket and laid it on the metal table.

"This is the security footage from the hotel corridor," he said, his eyes hard and cold. "There was no coercion. She went with him willingly."

The detective plugged the drive into a laptop. A video began to play. On screen, I was laughing, my arm slung over Tristan's shoulder as I eagerly followed him into the room. Roger was standing at the end of the hall, quietly watching us.

He was the perfect eyewitness to destroy my case.

After we were dismissed, Roger walked me out to the parking lot, even opening the passenger door for me with a gentle, practiced courtesy. I stood frozen on the pavement, my legs feeling like lead.

I stared at his face. It was the same face I had loved for a decade, but he felt like an absolute stranger.

"Roger," I whispered, my voice raw. "Do you hate me that much?"

He paused, a flicker of something resembling regret crossing his features before his expression hardened again. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.

"The Lin family business is preparing for an IPO. They can't afford any scandals right now." He blew the smoke away from me, his eyes indifferent. "Gemma, you're being incredibly ungrateful. If it weren't for my arrangement, you wouldn't even have a chance to marry into a family like theirs."

I let out a soft, mocking laugh.

We had been together since we were sixteen. We had walked out of the orphanage hand-in-hand, working brutal shifts while trying to finish our degrees. We had lived in damp basement apartments and hauled water from public parks. During our hardest winter, we had shared a single cup of instant ramen, both of us refusing to eat the last bite until the soup went completely cold.

Roger used to hold me close, crying and apologizing for not being able to give me the life I deserved. But I had never cared about the poverty. I only cared about him.

When my DNA results had come back, the Montgomery family had immediately reached out to me. I had proudly told them that I was engaged, and that Roger and I would be coming home together.

I had been planning our future while he was planning my ruin.

I looked inside his car. The interior smelled different now, sweet and foreign. A plush, custom cushion sat on the passenger seat. It was clearly Melody's spot.

I climbed into the back seat instead, pulled out my phone, and sent a message to the Montgomery estate: The wedding is off. I'll be returning home alone.

When we reached our apartment, Melody was already there. She hadn't changed much since high school. She was still the beautiful, pampered princess who had always looked down on me.

Back then, Roger had sneered whenever she walked past, calling her a brainless, superficial girl. Now, I realized the only joke was me.

I walked past her without a word and began packing my bags.

Before long, her sharp, mocking voice drifted into the bedroom. "Are you still trying to play the tragic victim? Sleeping with my brother is the best thing that could have happened to you."

"Gemma, you were abandoned the day you were born. You should learn to accept your place instead of trying to claw your way into high society. A stray dog doesn't belong in a palace."

She let out a cruel chuckle, her reflection in the mirror showing her rolling her eyes.

I swallowed my anger, refusing to engage with her. "We bought this apartment together," I said to Roger, my voice steady. "We'll put it on the market and split the proceeds fifty-fifty."

My chest ached as I said it. We had spent years saving for this place, working three jobs and ignoring our health just to have a home of our own. Every single piece of furniture, every paint color, had been chosen by me.

We had only lived here for three months. Leaving broke my heart, but staying in a place tainted by them made me physically ill.

I expected Roger to agree, but Melody spoke up first, her voice dripping with venom. "Are you delusional, Gemma? This isn't your apartment."

She draped herself over Roger's shoulders, her voice turning sickeningly sweet. "Besides, I love this place. The kitchen, the bathroom, the sofa... Roger and I have left our marks everywhere. We could never sell a place with such thrilling memories."

My brain went completely numb.

I stared at Melodys smug face. The kitchen. The bathroom. Our sofa.

A wave of intense nausea hit me, and I had to physically press my hand against my stomach to keep from throwing up. I marched over to the closet, tearing through the hangers until I found our document lockbox. My hands shook so hard I could barely enter the code.

When I finally pulled out the property deed, the name printed on the paper felt like a physical blow.

Melody Lin.

I had poured every cent of my life savings into this place. I had worked myself to the bone, never daring to take a single sick day, believing this home would be my ultimate safety net. Now, my security belonged to another woman.

I stumbled out of the closet and threw the document down in front of Roger. "Care to explain this?"

Roger frowned, immediately stepping in front of Melody to shield her. His eyes held nothing but disgust. "There's nothing to explain."

"Gemma, when did you become so materialistic and cold? All you care about is money. Once Im settled in with the Montgomery family, Ill pay you back double what you put in. Is that enough for you?"

The sheer audacity of his words choked me. I couldn't believe I had spent a decade loving a man who could twist reality so effortlessly.

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through my veins.

Before I could stop myself, I snatched the heavy leather deed folder and hurled it at them with all my strength.

The sharp metal corner of the binder grazed Melodys cheek. A thin, bright red line appeared on her pale skin, and a second later, blood began to drip onto the hardwood floor.

Melody collapsed to her knees, letting out a piercing shriek.

Roger reacted instantly, dropping to his knees and pressing his hand over her wound. He glared up at me, his eyes wild with fury. "Gemma, are you insane? If her face is scarred, I swear I will ruin you!"

I ignored them, returning to the bedroom to zip up my suitcase.

Roger helped Melody to her feet, guiding her toward the door to go to the hospital. But as they reached the threshold, Melody stopped. She turned around, her eyes burning with pure hatred.

"Gemma, I will make sure you suffer for this."

I didn't even look at her. My life was already in ruins, what more could they possibly do to me?

But then, my phone began to vibrate incessantly.

I pulled it out. A massive alumni group chat containing thousands of people from our high school and college was active, messages flying by at a dizzying speed.

I scrolled up, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was the video of me and Tristan in the hotel room.

The comments were brutal.

"She always pretended to be so innocent, turns out she's just another climber."

"Honestly, securing a rich guy like Tristan is a lot easier than actually working for a living."

"I can't believe she's desperate enough to sleep with a creep like Tristan."

The administrators quickly removed the video, but it was too late. People had already downloaded it. Within hours, my social media feed was flooded with anonymous accounts offering to sell the clip for a dollar.

Direct messages started pouring in from strangers, asking me how much I charged for a night.

My mind went completely blank, and my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, staring at the screen. I tried to reply, to explain, but the wave of harassment was too massive to fight.

Around midnight, Roger returned from the clinic. The anger on his face had faded, replaced by a patronizing calm.

"If you go and apologize to Melody, I can make this go away," he said, his voice quiet and gentle. "Gemma, you need to think logically. Marrying Tristan really is a good path for you. You'll be a wealthy wife with no financial worries."

I looked up at his face.

Make it go away? To the entire world, I was now a disgraced, desperate climber. My reputation was completely destroyed.

I slowly stood up, a calm, empty smile spreading across my lips. I walked into the kitchen, picked up a paring knife from the block, and walked back to him. Before he could react, I lunged forward and slashed the blade across his cheek.

The exact same spot. The exact same length.

"Since you love Melody so much, I figured you should have a matching set," I whispered. "Roger, shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Roger clutched his face, letting out a blood-curdling scream. He stumbled backward, tripping over my suitcase and crashing onto the floor.

"You crazy bitch!" he howled, blood leaking through his fingers. "I was actually trying to help you, and this is how you treat me?"

He scrambled to his feet, his face contorted with rage. He lunged at me, tearing the knife from my grip and pinning me against the wall, the cold metal blade pressing hard against my throat.

"You're just a nameless orphan, Gemma," he hissed, his eyes wild and unstable. "Even if I slit your throat right here, the Montgomery family has enough power to sweep it under the rug for me!"

He pressed down, and I felt the sharp sting of the blade cutting into my skin. My strength was failing.

Suddenly, the front door was kicked off its hinges with a deaf-ening crash.