The President's Lost Daughter

CHAPTER FOUR

Elena's POV

“How can you keep a whore as a house help? You need to get rid of her!” his mother spat before storming into the bathroom to clean herself.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Matteo asked, stepping closer to help me up.

Before I could respond, Camilla’s voice rang out, louder this time, meant for everyone to hear.

“All you do is sleep around! You’re such a slut!”

Murmurs of disgust rippled through the room. I could feel their judgment, their stares burning into me like hot iron. Shame tightened around my chest, suffocating me.

Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Before I could catch my breath, his mother returned, her eyes burning with renewed contempt.

“You can’t work in this family,” she sneered. “You’re so incompetent. You ruined a dress you couldn’t afford in a hundred years.”

Camilla sighed dramatically, stepping forward as if to defend me. “Sorry, Mother. Please ignore her,” she said, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her words. She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “I mean, accidents happen, right? She just… wasn’t raised with proper etiquette.”

A few snickers rippled through the room.

My stomach clenched. “I’m so sorry, ma,” I muttered, my voice barely holding steady. “I didn’t mean to—”

But the humiliation was too much. Without another word, I turned and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

A few seconds later, Matteo followed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back there,” he murmured, his voice soft. “Just ignore them, please. I’m here for you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I forced a smile, though my chest still felt tight.

“But baby, if you were pregnant, why would you want to keep it to yourself?”

I blinked, frowning. “Exactly. I have no reason to do that—I’m not pregnant.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. We’ll check with the doctor once we get home.”

He glanced toward the door. “You know Mum needs me. Let me run along.”

***

I didn’t go back inside. Instead, I slipped out onto the balcony, tears burning in my eyes. The cool air did little to ease the ache in my chest. I wished—just for once—that my life could be different. That I could escape this endless cycle of humiliation.

Footsteps approached behind me.

“There you are,” Camilla said smoothly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

I stiffened but didn’t turn around.

She stepped closer, her voice dripping with mock concern. “If you’re pregnant, you should tell Matteo. Hiding it won’t do you any good.” She leaned in slightly. “Because even if you do, he’ll find out… and when he does, the baby will be killed.”

A cold smirk curled on her lips. “You have nowhere to go,” she added, her tone laced with satisfaction.

The words sliced through me, but before I could respond, she straightened and clapped her hands together.

“Now, get back to the kitchen and do the dishes.”

Then, just like that, she turned and walked away as if I was nothing.

But then, hushed voices caught my attention.

I turned slightly, pressing myself against the railing. Daniel stood just a few feet away, papers clutched tightly in his hands. He was speaking urgently to Matteo, unaware of my presence.

“I just confirmed it,” Daniel said, his voice low but firm. “Camilla is not the president’s daughter.”

My breath hitched.

Matteo stiffened. “What?”

“She was switched at birth,” Daniel continued. “The nurse who did it finally confessed—and it's going viral. She was paid to swap the babies, and the child she replaced…” He exhaled sharply. “It was Elena.”

Shock slammed into me like a tidal wave.

Me.