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The Unwanted Daughter's Secret Billionaire Identity Novel Cover

The Unwanted Daughter's Secret Billionaire Identity

After a decade as the Barnes' mistreated ward, I was cast out with a fake check and a framed theft charge. They mocked my poverty, unaware that my time there was a test of their character. Their laughter died when a bulletproof Rolls Royce arrived to collect me. I am no orphan; I am the Pennington heiress. Now, I’m headed to the boardroom to finalize a takeover that will leave the Barnes family with absolutely nothing by sunset.
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Chapter 2

The morning sun sliced through the gap in the curtains, hitting Ophelia squarely in the face. She didn't groan. She was already awake. She zipped the suitcase shut, the metal teeth grinding together with a sound like a zipper on a body bag.

A knock at the door. Before she could answer, it opened.

Mia breezed in, holding a tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a velvet jewelry box. She was wearing a pastel sundress and a smile that looked like it had been glued on.

"Good morning!" Mia sang. "I brought you a goodbye present. And coffee."

Ophelia ignored the coffee. She took the box. She flipped the lid open. Inside sat a diamond necklace. It caught the light, sparkling aggressively.

Ophelia looked at it. The cut was mediocre, the clarity VS2 at best. It was a mall diamond masquerading as an heirloom.

"It's my favorite," Mia lied, her voice dripping with syrup. "I want you to have it."

"Thanks," Ophelia said flatly. She set the box on the desk, right next to her packed bag. She wanted this over with.

"Oh, come here!" Mia lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Ophelia in a hug that felt more like a tackle. Ophelia stiffened, smelling the cloying scent of Mia's vanilla perfume. It made her stomach turn.

As Mia's arms tightened, Ophelia felt the girl's right hand, hidden from view, fumble near the open tote bag on the chair beside them. Time seemed to slow. Ophelia registered the faint rustle of fabric, the subtle shift of weight as Mia's fingers slipped into the bag's side pocket. In that same instant, Ophelia's left hand, which had been hanging limply at her side, moved with the speed of a striking snake. Her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the necklace in the open box on the desk, palming it. As Mia squeezed tighter in a mockery of affection, Ophelia's hand slid under Mia's arm, depositing the real necklace into the same tote bag pocket Mia was targeting, while simultaneously retrieving a near-identical, worthless cubic zirconia replica she always kept in her bag for emergencies. The entire exchange took less than a second, a masterful piece of sleight of hand masked by the clumsy hug.

Ophelia shoved her away. "Get off me. You smell like a chemical spill."

Mia stumbled back, catching her heel on the rug. She went down hard, landing on her butt.

"Ow!" Mia screamed. "Mom! Mom!"

It was theatrical. It was pathetic.

Susan appeared in the doorway instantly, as if she'd been waiting in the hall. "What did you do to her?" she shrieked, rushing to Mia's side.

"She pushed me!" Mia wailed, clutching her ankle. "I just gave her the necklace and she pushed me!"

Ophelia didn't argue. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and hoisted her tote bag onto her shoulder. She walked toward the door.

"My necklace!" Mia suddenly yelled, pointing at the desk. "It's gone! The box is empty!"

Susan stood up, blocking the doorway. Her face was twisted in ugly triumph. "You little thief. I knew it."

"Move," Ophelia said.

"Richard!" Susan screamed. "Richard, get up here! She's stealing the jewelry!"

Richard appeared, breathless, his tie half-done. "What is going on?"

"She stole Mia's grandmother's necklace!" Susan pointed a manicured finger at Ophelia's bag. "Search her!"

"You don't have a warrant," Ophelia said calmly.

"I don't need one in my own house," Richard said, his voice deepening with authority he didn't possess. "Ophelia, empty the bag. If you're innocent, prove it."

Ophelia looked at them. The trap was so clumsy it was insulting. She dropped the suitcase. She dropped the tote bag. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"Go ahead," she said. "But if you don't find what you're looking for, you're going to regret it."

Mia scrambled up, forgetting her "injured" ankle. She dumped Ophelia's tote bag onto the floor. Medical books, cheap t-shirts, and toiletries spilled out. Mia kicked a book aside and reached into the inner zippered pocket.

She pulled out a diamond necklace.

"Aha!" Susan gasped. "I told you! A thief!"

Richard's face went purple. "After everything we gave you? That check? You steal from us?"

Ophelia looked at the necklace dangling from Mia's fingers. It was identical to the one in the box on the desk. Or at least, it looked identical to them.

"Call the police," Susan hissed. "I want her in jail."

"No," Richard said, rubbing his temples. "No police. The press would have a field day. 'Barnes Foster Daughter Arrested.' No." He turned to Ophelia. "Give me the check back."

"What?"

"The severance. You don't deserve a dime. Consider it restitution for the attempted theft."

Ophelia watched him hold out his hand. She didn't blink. She reached into the medical book on the floor, pulled out the check, and handed it to him.

She felt a flicker of pity. He was trading a fortune for a trinket, and he didn't even know it. He had no idea that the entire Barnes enterprise was just a subsidiary, a small, mismanaged branch of the Pennington Group, propped up by her grandfather's old loyalties.

"Get out," Richard said, pocketing the check.

Mia clasped the necklace around her neck, smirking. "Bye, Ophelia. Have a nice life in the gutter."

Ophelia bent down. She picked up her books, dusting them off with slow, deliberate strokes.

"This is the last time you will ever humiliate me," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the air vibrate.

She repacked her bag. She walked out the door, down the hall, and toward the stairs. The Barnes family followed her, like vultures waiting for the carcass to finally drop.

At the bottom of the stairs, Ophelia stopped. She didn't go to the front door. She turned toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Susan demanded.

Ophelia walked into the kitchen. She stopped in front of the large, industrial trash compactor Richard had installed last year.

She reached into her pocket.

The family froze.

Ophelia pulled out a diamond necklace.

Mia's hand flew to her own neck. She was wearing the necklace. But Ophelia was holding the necklace.

"Wait," Mia whispered. "What..."

Ophelia held the necklace over the open maw of the machine. Her finger hovered over the red button. She smiled, and for the first time, it reached her eyes. It was terrifying.

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