The Unloved Heir Takes Everything

To keep Lucia from suspecting anything, I spent the next two days projecting an air of total confidence.

Whenever anyone asked, I told them my proposal was ready to go.

I even started going out, making a show of having fun.

But late at night, when the whole manor was dead silent, I would hide under my thick blankets with only a small reading lamp on.

I pored over a decade’s worth of shipping data from the Brooklyn docks, black market trade records, and the territories of every major crew in New York.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, perfecting a truly flawless bid proposal, piece by piece.

My eyes burned, and a dull throb started behind my eyes from the exhaustion.

But I didn’t stop.

This was my one chance to prove myself.

The day of the bid arrived.

A storm was brewing over New York, the heavy sky threatening to crush the city.

I walked alone toward the manor’s conference hall, dressed in a sharp, black suit dress, a leather portfolio with my proposal tucked under my arm.

The entrance to the hall was already packed.

Lucia stood at the center of the crowd, shining like a diamond.

She wore a priceless diamond necklace—a gift from Emma.

Standing beside her were the Don, Vincenzo, and his wife, Emma.

“Lucia, just relax today. You’ve always been the best,” Emma said, gently stroking Lucia’s hair with a look of pure love.

Vincenzo offered a rare, warm smile and clapped Lucia on the shoulder. “The future of the Moretti Family will be yours soon enough.”

Of course. In their eyes, this bid was just a formality. The position of heir was already Lucia’s.

I was used to this scene by now.

As I approached, the chattering crowd fell silent.

Emma turned to me. The warmth in her eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by the usual coldness. “Olivia, why are you so late? Have you no respect for what today represents?”

“My apologies, Emma. It’s my fault,” I said, lowering my head obediently.

I never used to understand why the Don and Emma disliked me so much.

But thanks to the comments over the last few days, I knew the answer:

Lucia was constantly telling them, in ways both subtle and overt, how arrogant and disobedient I was behind their backs, how I even bullied her.

They felt sorry for her, so naturally, they despised me, even when I showed more leadership potential.

[I’m starting to feel bad for the villainess… The Don and his wife are so cold to her.]

[I don’t care, she’s still in the wrong! Besides, if she didn't try to switch the proposal, how could we get the satisfaction of our main character putting her in her place?]

[But… is she really going to switch it? She seemed to be working really hard these past few days, not like she was planning on coasting… It’s Lucia who’s been fooling around with guys. She's the one who seems to be slipping…]

I couldn’t help but smile.

Finally, someone in the comments was starting to get it.

But to Lucia, my smile meant something else entirely.

She sneered at me in her usual arrogant, patronizing tone.

“What are you smiling about, Olivia? Feeling that confident?”

I kept my expression neutral. “It’s fine. And you?”

She leaned in close, whispering so only I could hear, “I’ll tell you the truth. The Don already saw my proposal last night. He loved it. You think you still have a chance?”

As she spoke, she stared right into my eyes.

She was completely sure of herself.

She was laying it on thick, trying to tempt me into the switch.

Faced with her provocation and the mocking stares from everyone around, I simply lifted my chin, met her victorious gaze, and smiled.

“Is that so? Well, we’ll see. Good luck, Lucia.”

Lucia froze for a second, clearly not expecting that reaction. But she quickly dismissed it as my last pathetic attempt at bravado.

I turned and walked into the conference hall as if I were walking onto a battlefield.

I’d been losing for ten years. This time, I was going to win.