He Gave My Mother's Tiara to the Fake,I Gave My Hand to His Enemy

Tonight's events would reach his ears soon enough, twisted and exaggerated beyond recognition.

……

I stood on the terrace for a long time before making my way back to the hall.

Frederick Fox stepped into my path. “Jocelyn, don't go looking for trouble with Letitia.”

His eyes tracked my direction, full of wariness, as though I were about to lunge for the tiara.

Frederick was the first person to reach out to me after I was brought back to the Henson family.

He'd seen my name once on the orphanage sponsorship list.

Back then, the Fox family had all but frozen him out. I'd secretly wired him the scholarship money I'd saved, enough to get him through the worst year of his life.

Later, after I returned to the Hensons, I pulled every string I had to help him secure control of the Fox family's operations.

I thought we were bound for life.

But now he shielded Letitia like she was something precious and breakable.

I turned sideways to leave.

He grabbed my wrist. “Be smart about this. Alex already made his choice. If you cause a scene now, you'll only humiliate the Henson family.”

“Let go.”

I tried to shake him off, but Letitia glanced our way, and his grip tightened instantly.

The sudden force threw me off balance. My toe caught the edge of the step, and I tumbled down the staircase.

My right kneecap hit the stone tiles with a sharp crack.

Pain shot straight to my skull.

Frederick stood frozen. “Why do you have to play the victim? You've had everything since you came back to the Hensons. Lettie only has Alex.”

Barret Delgado and Winston Gilbert followed close behind.

“What happened?”

Barret glanced at my swollen knee. His expression didn't change.

“What act is this now, Miss Henson? Trying to guilt Alex into staying with an injury?”

Winston kept his hands in his pockets. “Jocelyn, you pulled this same stunt three years ago. Aren't you tired of it?”

“That little notebook of yours probably has the exact angle of the fall calculated, doesn't it?”

Barret pressed two fingers against his brow. “Jocelyn, you've already pushed Lettie into a corner. All she wanted today was one tiara. Did you really have to hurt yourself in public over it?”

“If it's about saving face,” his tone was perfectly flat, “I'll dance with you for the rest of the evening. That enough to check the box?”

I pushed through the pain and stood, shoving past them.

“Move.”

“Jocelyn!”

Barret lost his patience. He seized my arm and wrenched me back. “If we hadn't taken pity on you and helped you find your footing back then, you think you'd be where you are today?”

I fought to break free, thrashing against his grip.

He flung me sideways with full force——

“Crack.”

My left shoulder dislocated.

The bone grinding out of its socket swallowed every sound I could have made.

Barret's hand hung frozen in midair.

He stared at my limp left arm, his voice still rigid. “You had to fight me on this. All so you could chase after a man?”

I clenched my teeth and clamped my right hand over my dislocated left shoulder.

Sweat rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto my gown.

Winston let out a thin, mocking smile. “Drop the act.”

“You're Jocelyn Henson. The true heiress who survived hardship. A little injury like this is nothing to you. Don't expect us to feel sorry for you.”

My face was drenched in cold sweat, but I smiled at him.

“You're right. I grew up tough. It doesn't hurt.”

I released my right hand. My left arm hung at my side at a grotesque angle, like a dead branch.

The smile finally drained from Winston's face. He turned away, unable to look at my shoulder.

Barret's voice shook. “I'll call a private doctor.”

“Don't.” I forced myself steady on both feet. “If word gets out, Henson Group's stock will drop.”

“You're insane!” Barret's eyes burned with anger. “You're always calculating, always playing the long game for your precious Henson family!”