The Wrong Heiress; White Lotus Lies

The family sat down together for dinner, but it felt less like a gathering and more like a silent war.

Aria played the role of the perfect, filial daughter, her smile sweet and gentle as she placed a piece of meat onto Margaret's plate. "Mum, you should try this," she said softly, her hand brushing Damian's arm now and then in a show of tender affection. Margaret's face glowed with satisfaction, clearly pleased by her "good child's" attentiveness.

Across the table, Julian sat quietly, her posture straight but her presence barely acknowledged. The delicious aroma of the meal filled the room, but every bite that touched her tongue tasted like ash. Her fork scraped softly against her plate, a brittle sound in the silence, as she toyed with the food more than she ate it.

Even after all these years, she should have been numb to the preference shown to Aria. Yet it still stung. She remembered once trying the same gestures-serving her mother, speaking with care-only to be brushed aside or scolded for being "pretentious." Now, Aria did the very same things and was praised as though she hung the moon.

The soft clink of cutlery and murmurs of approval from Margaret filled the silence, while Richard remained impassive, sipping his wine as if the imbalance before him didn't exist. To the others, Julian might as well have been invisible.

Still, she held her head high, refusing to let them see her falter.

⸻

The dinner ended in a subtle, almost suffocating silence. Julian laid her fork down gently, about to excuse herself when Richard's voice suddenly broke through.

"Since you're back, you should join the company."

The calm authority in his tone froze the room.

All heads turned toward him. Aria, who had just lifted the coffee pot to pour her mother a cup, faltered. The porcelain slipped in her grip, and steaming liquid spilled over her hand.

"Ouchhh!" she cried out, her voice sharp with pain as she flinched back.

Margaret shot to her feet, panic on her face. "Get me the first aid box!" she barked at the maids.

They scurried into action. Damian was already at Aria's side, holding her trembling hand with visible concern. When the box was brought, he carefully treated the burn himself, his expression tight with protectiveness.

Meanwhile, Julian sat utterly still, her pulse ticking in her throat. Richard's words replayed in her head. Join the company? The Sinclair company was never meant for her. She had long accepted that. So why now?

Richard leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on her. "The company isn't doing well," he said in that calm, weighty tone of his. "And as part of this family, you should contribute. It's time."

Julian's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing faintly, but she gave no immediate reply.

"Follow me to the study," Richard added, standing smoothly and walking upstairs without waiting for her response. His figure disappeared beyond the staircase, leaving the dining room thick with tension.

Julian hesitated. Part of her wanted to laugh at the irony. They had ignored her for years, treated her as though she was an outsider, and now, suddenly, she was expected to "contribute." Still, after a moment, she rose and followed, her heels clicking softly against the marble.

As she passed Aria, she felt the weight of her sister's stare-burning, sharp, malicious.

Aria bit her lip, her eyes flicking to Margaret with feigned hurt. "Mum, why would Dad ask her to join the company?" Her voice trembled just enough to sound pitiful. "She's never contributed anything to the family, never to the business. I've been here all along. I even begged Dad to let me join before, but he refused."

Margaret cupped her daughter's face, brushing her damp hair back tenderly. "Baby, your father only wanted you to focus on your career. That's why he refused. The company will always be yours-it's only a matter of time."

"But why her?" Aria pressed, her lashes wet with unshed tears.

Margaret sighed, her voice lowering, reluctant but resigned. "Because the company is under fire. We need new investors. Your father already has an agreement in place... but it needs your sister's presence to go through."

Aria's eyes darkened for the briefest moment before she lowered her gaze again, hiding the venom in her chest. Her lips curved faintly in a smile that was anything but sweet.

⸻

Julian entered the study slowly, the familiar scent of sandalwood wrapping around her like an old, unwelcome memory. Her eyes swept over the room-the towering shelves lined with leather-bound books, the grandfather clock ticking steadily in the corner, the heavy oak desk that had always felt like a barrier between her and her father.

Behind it sat Richard, pouring himself another glass of wine. He didn't speak at first. Silence stretched, heavy, broken only by the faint clink of glass against wood.

Finally, his gaze lifted. "Sit."

Julian lowered herself into the chair opposite him, her expression calm but guarded.

Richard studied her, eyes sharp. "You've been gone six years. In that time, this company has faced storms you know nothing about. Investors are restless, competitors are circling. We can't afford weakness."

Julian folded her hands neatly in her lap. "And suddenly, I'm the solution?"

Richard didn't answer right away. Instead, he opened a file, pulled out a crisp document, and slid it across the desk. "Read."

She glanced down, her brow furrowing as her eyes scanned the words. An arranged marriage contract.

Her head snapped up. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?"

Richard leaned back, swirling his wine with a detached calm. "Your marriage has been arranged with the Sterling family. They're prepared to invest heavily, but only with a contractual bond. This arrangement stabilizes the company and secures your future. It's a win-win."

Julian's breath caught, though her face remained composed. "So you're selling me to your investors in the name of marriage?"

Richard's lips tightened. "Selling? No. This is sacrifice-for the family. Mrs. Sterling agreed to invest only if there's a tie between us. And you, as my daughter, are the logical choice."

Julian laughed bitterly. "Daughter? Hearing that from you is almost funny. All my life, I've never been acknowledged as one. And now you fix an arranged marriage between me and a stranger just to save your company?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Aria-"

"Aria is already engaged," Richard cut her off coldly, his voice firm enough to silence her.

Julian blinked, her lips curving into a scoff. "Engaged to someone who was supposed to be mine?"

Richard's gaze sharpened. "You caused that yourself. If you were chaste enough not to get pregnant out of wedlock, Damian would still be yours. That marriage was about to be annulled-until you ruined everything."

Julian's jaw clenched, the sting of his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. She forced her voice to remain steady. "I'm not doing this. I won't marry a stranger just to patch up your failing company. Let your 'good daughter' make that sacrifice."

She pushed back her chair and stormed toward the door, her heels striking the floor sharply.

But as she yanked it open, a figure stumbled forward. Aria, who had clearly been listening outside, nearly lost her balance. Her face flickered with surprise, then settled quickly into a mask of wide-eyed innocence.

"Sis..." she whispered sweetly, though her eyes gleamed with malice. "Wait."