I, the Hidden Heiress, and My Starstruck Boyfriend

Her voice then turned sharper. “It’s all because of that wretched woman! I don’t even know where she got that dog from. It came out of nowhere and bit me—hurt me so badly!” She turned to Walton with a pitiful expression. “Mr. Gries, you have to stand up for me!”

Seeing Margot’s dramatic display, I nearly threw up. I was so nauseating to see that.

The Pekingese I’ve had for over a decade is an old dog, nearly toothless at this point. While it might have looked like it bit Margot hard just now, the truth is, it didn’t even break the skin on her ankle.

Walton glanced at Margot’s foot, noticing the faint redness. His expression soured and he rolled his eyes at her theatrics.

Then Walton’s gaze fell on the small dog I was holding protectively. His expression froze for a moment, recognition flashing across his face.

“This dog... looks familiar!” Walton muttered. “This afternoon, I visited Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald here at the estate. Mrs. Fitzgerald was holding a dog look just like this in her arms.”

His words sent shockwaves through everyone present.

“That’s impossible!” Margot exclaimed. Her face twisted in disbelief.

“Mr. Gries, you must be mistaken,” she said, a nervous laugh escaping her. “The Fitzgeralds—those illustrious figures—would never own a mutt like that. If they ever kept a dog, it’d definitely be some rare, pedigreed breed!”

Walton shook his head firmly. “The Fitzgeralds aren’t the kind of family to care about such vanities. I know this is the same dog I saw in Mrs. Fitzgerald’s arms earlier.”

I liked this man—he had a sense of discernment. We’re not like others. Most affluent families with noble roots tend to keep purebred dogs, complete with pedigree certificates, believing it’s a way to flaunt their wealth and status. But not us. Such things are nothing but a joke to our family.

This Poodle? I picked it up from the side of the road when I was just a kid. It must’ve been abandoned shortly after it was born. I remember it was raining that day. The poor thing was trembling from the cold, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes.

When our eyes met, I felt an inexplicable connection. Without a second thought, I scooped it up and brought it home. It’s been part of our family ever since.

Walton’s words had a ripple effect. Margot’s face turned pale and the others around her weren’t faring much better. Those who’d been ready to pounce on my dog just moments ago now stood frozen, their faces drained of color, clearly terrified.

Margot’s lips trembled as she stammered, “If this… dog really belongs to the Fitzgeralds, then how could it be in her hands?” Her eyes lit up with malice as she pointed at me. “You! You better tell the truth! Did you steal this dog? Not only did you sneak into the Fitzgerald estate, but you also dared to steal Mrs. Fitzgerald’s dog?” she spat venomously. “You’re finished! There’s no saving you now!”

I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her absurd accusations. Margot clearly thought she had me pegged as some bumpkin from the countryside, incapable of having any connection to the Fitzgeralds. To her, I was nothing more than a thief.

Her baseless accusations seemed to ignite a spark in the group. After a brief pause, several of them sighed in relief, as though finding their courage in Margot's words and began to chime in.

“Margot’s right. Just look at her—she definitely looks like she’s up to no good!”

“Margot was only trying to protect the dog, but instead, that dog bit her!”

“We can’t let her walk away with Mrs. Fitzgerald’s dog. The Fitzgeralds would never forgive her!”

They were Margot’s loyal followers—or more accurately, her sycophants. Afraid that opposing her might jeopardize their own careers, they chose to side with her, joining in to slander and blame me.

However, not everyone seemed to share their blind loyalty.

Kieran, his expression conflicted, finally broke his silence. He hesitated, then asked cautiously, “Lila… you wouldn’t happen to be related with the Fitzgerald Family, would you?”

The murmurs died down as all eyes turned toward me, the atmosphere suddenly heavy with curiosity and suspicion.

“You managed to get into the Fitzgerald estate,” Kieran continued, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And the dog seems so comfortable with you. Could it be that…”

Before he could finish, Margot cut him off with a sharp, derisive laugh.

“Impossible!” she sneered. “How could a lowly bitch like her have any connection to the Fitzgeralds, the wealthiest tycoons of Wickerdale?”

“You told me yourself she was just some small-town bumpkin, didn’t you? You said you two lived in a tiny rented apartment, struggling just to get by. If she really was a daughter of the Fitzgerald Family, why on earth would she choose to be with you and live a hard life like that?”

Her words hit Kieran like a bucket of cold water. He let out a quiet sigh, a complex mix of disappointment and relief flashing across his face.

Walton, meanwhile, was silent, his brows furrowed as he scrutinized me, clearly debating something in his mind.

Finally, after a tense pause, he spoke. “You know, now that I think about it… you do bear a striking resemblance to Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

I met his gaze steadily, my voice clear and unwavering as I replied, “That’s because the one you’re talking about is my mother. And this estate is my home.”