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The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit

Maui

My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."

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In a five-star hotel called Peninsula International in Zugrurg, at the window of Room 2208, stood a woman in a long red wine colored sweater. The room was on the 22nd Floor, the Presidential Suite. Her hair was pinned on the top of her head and she held a cup of newly decanted wine in her hand.

The woman was pretty with long, curly eyelashes that glittered in the sun. The tip of her nose was slightly turned up, and her pursed lips were adorned with queen red lipstick.

A dainty pair of spectacles with black frames balanced delicately on the bridge of her nose, lending her a professional appearance.

The sky loomed with dark clouds.

The setting reminded her of the same day, a year and a half ago.

As lightning lit up the horizon, the woman knew it would rain at any time.

The woman recalled a fateful day during her time at the women's prison in the West of Ascea.

The warden escorted by two policewomen entered the room. One policewoman shouted, "No. 296, you can go!"

The needlework the prisoner was working on, fell to the ground.

Over the past one and a half years, she had heard this statement many times. Every time she had hoped the policewoman would call her number. But she never did. Not until today.

"You can go." Of course, she understood what it meant.

It meant that she was free. She could finally leave the prison.

After a while, the prison's high gates opened slowly. A girl in dark green clothes walked through. Her chubby figure had become slimmer after her one and a half year stay in prison.

Though she had lost a lot of weight, her face was still round.

Not far from the gate stood a couple holding an umbrella. The man looked dignified, and the woman was graceful. Although they were middle-aged, the years had been kind to them.

At the sight of the girl, the older woman walked toward her. "Oh, my honey, you have suffered a lot!"

She gently caressed the girl's face. Her face used to be plump, but now it looked thinner.

For Sophia Bailey, these simple, welcoming words felt like spring in the desert.

"Aunt (Chinese way of showing politeness, not real Aunt), it is you who got me out of here." The older woman nodded in affirmation.

The man also came forward. He was followed by an orderly who held out umbrellas for them.

Wendy shook her head, "It's your Uncle (Chinese way of showing politeness, not real Uncle). He found the relationship for you."

Sophia nodded, took a step back, and bowed deeply, "Uncle, Aunt, thank you very much. I shall always remember your kindness."

"Don't mention it, my dear. Let's go!" Wendy seated Sophia in Newman's car before getting in.

At Newman's, led by Wendy, Sophia entered a big room, where she took a soothing bath and put on clothes provided by Wendy.

The clothes were loose.

Wendy had bought clothes for Sophia in her original size.

She used to be very fat. She was 163cm in height but had weighed more than 150 pounds.