Miwa The Alphas Blessing

I was eight, maybe nine, when my father branded me "bad luck."

Exiled from the Miller empire, I grew up with Elara in the quiet Ozarks, who saw a light in me, saying "things grow better in the sunshine."

Ten years later, a thick, gold-embossed envelope arrived, pulling Sadie back.

It was a summons to my younger brother Ethan's 21st birthday gala, the favored heir.

"Your father expects your attendance," the note commanded, offering no welcome.

Richard Miller met me with arctic eyes, scanning my simple clothes.

Ethan, the spoiled golden child, sneered, "Look what the cat dragged in from the sticks."

The chilling truth emerged: this wasn't a reunion, but a formal disinheritance.

At the glittering country club, I was publicly mocked as a "charity case," old wounds tearing open.

Ethan grinned, shoving legal documents at me: "We' re making it official."