Reclaiming My Life, The True Heiress Strikes Back

Elissa shook her head with a faint smile, wearing an expression of practiced tolerance. “It’s okay. I don’t mind suffering a little,” she said softly. “Please don’t blame my sister anymore. Growing up in such a harsh, remote environment, I can understand her jealousy. I’ll do my best to guide her and help her find the right path in life.”

Her faux magnanimity immediately won her a fresh wave of sympathy.

“Miss Elissa Ashford, you’re just too kind!” someone exclaimed, their tone brimming with admiration.

“Exactly! You’re so patient with her, but ungrateful wolves like that will never show you any respect.”

Hearing this, my eldest brother’s gaze turned icy as it landed on the diamond necklace in my hand. His voice left no room for argument. “Hand over the necklace.”

I felt a fiery sting behind my eyes as anger surged through me. “This necklace, ‘One & Only’, was a gift from Dad to me,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained fury.

My brother narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Alyssa, the Ashford Family took you in, but not so you could bully my real sister. If you can’t recognize your place as a foster daughter, then get out of this house!”

My heart clenched at his words. I simply couldn’t believe such words were coming from the same brother who had always loved and protected me.

The chill in my chest deepened, layer by layer until I laughed out loud—cold, biting laughter that sliced through the tension in the room. “This isn’t your house to throw me out of,” I said firmly. “And today, this necklace? No one is taking it from me.”

My second brother exploded in anger. He turned to the household staff scattered around the room and barked, “Are you all dead? Will you just stand there while she steals Miss Elissa Ashford’s necklace? Go grab it now!”

The housekeeper, an older woman who had worked for our family for years, rolled up her sleeves and stepped forward. I noticed the fleeting glances she exchanged with Elissa and it clicked—she’d been bought off.

Before she could get any closer, I grabbed a wine bottle from the side, smashed it against the pastry table and held the jagged neck in front of me like a weapon at her.

“Let’s see who dares take another step!” I growled, my voice laced with fury. “Think carefully—who is the real eldest daughter of this house? The Ashford Family payroll comes from my parents. If you dare touch me today, I’ll ensure you’re all packing your bags tomorrow!”

The room froze. Some staff had worked in the Ashford household for years and knew me well. Fear flickered across their faces as they hesitated, unsure what to do.

But the housekeeper didn’t falter. She suddenly lunged forward, ripping the necklace from my hand and holding it up triumphantly like a trophy. She turned to Elissa with a sycophantic smile, “Miss Elissa Ashford, I’ve watched you grow up. No one can pretend to be you or take what’s rightfully yours. This necklace was clearly meant for you.”

I didn’t hesitate. My foot shot out, kicking the housekeeper hard in the back of her knees. She stumbled forward with a gasp.

“You’re just a housekeeper in this house,” I snarled, my voice as sharp as the broken bottle in my hand. “Who gave you the guts to snatch something from me? What’s the matter—did Elissa pay you more than my parents?”

The housekeeper’s expression faltered. She avoided my gaze, her guilty conscience written all over her face.

Before I could press further, Elissa rushed forward, placing herself protectively in front of the housekeeper. Her tear-filled eyes sparkled as she whispered, “Sister if you’re upset, take it out on me. Why bully Auntie Margareth? She’s been with us for so many years. Even if she says something out of concern for me, it’s only because she cares about how often you take my things.”

Then, with a trembling voice, she continued, “I know this pink diamond necklace is Dad’s priceless birthday gift to me. You’ve always been jealous of this necklace—you even wore it behind my back several times when I wasn’t home. But that’s okay. I don’t mind, as long as, in the future, you no longer bully Auntie Margareth. If it makes you happy, I’ll just give it to you.”

At the end of her performance, a single tear rolled down her cheek—perfectly timed and pitiful.

I stared at her in disbelief, pointing at myself. “Me? Jealous?” I asked, incredulous.

What was there to be jealous of? I, the legitimate daughter of the wealthiest family in the country, jealous of a foster child dragged out of the mountains? Jealous of her shameless knack for twisting the truth?

I felt like I was going to throw up. But the crowd of onlookers had already bought her act.

“Some people really don’t know their place, red. “She gets a taste of the good life and thinks she’s a real heiress. Pathetic.” someone muttered.

“She even bullies the maids! Maybe she should take a good, hard look in the mirror—or better yet, her reflection in a puddle—before getting full of herself.”

“Exactly! Alyssa is downright cruel! She’s like the living embodiment of that story about the farmer and the snake. You take someone in and they turn around to bite you.”

“She’s the textbook definition of a delusional, ungrateful wretch.”

“Poor Miss Elissa Ashford,” a third added, shaking their head in mock pity. “The real daughter being tormented by some upstart pretender—a pheasant trying to strut around like a phoenix. How tragic!”

Their words stabbed at me, but I didn’t flinch. They could side with Elissa all they wanted. I wasn’t backing down. Not this time.