Chapter 7

Time flew by in America. I immersed myself completely in my demanding studies.

Besides my school courses, I also used my status as the eldest legitimate daughter to learn many things.

I had to admit, Seraphina took excellent care of me – at least on the surface.

I lived in the guest room she meticulously prepared, the curtains were my favorite cream color, the desk always had fresh stationery and a daily planner, the kitchen fridge was always fully stocked, and she was always at the school gate promptly after dismissal.

Just like a real mother.

She was also very cooperative with the things I needed to learn. She had to be. After all, according to my past life's trajectory, I, the capable but naive older sister, was supposed to pave the way for her son.

She never gave me a cold shoulder. In fact, she often praised me for being independent, smart, and well-mannered, often introducing me to others as the future corporate successor.

Sometimes, I had to admire her acting skills.

Even more natural than Seraphina were the twins.

They had completely come to see me as their one and only big sister.

Every night, the little girl insisted I tell her a bedtime story; the little boy would only go to sleep if I helped him arrange his toys, and he even liked me to carry him to wash his hands.

They clung to me like ivy to a tree, cautiously yet with all their might.

But I knew it wasn't out of love – it was because they were still so young.

They didn't know who I was, didn't know I wasn't part of their 'family of three.'

They also didn't know that as they slowly grew up, Seraphina would personally pull me down from this 'big sister' position, little by little, until I was trampled into the dirt.

But for now, I wasn't in a hurry.

The more they loved me now, the more it would hurt them later.

I drew with them, played the piano, read English picture books, played role-playing games. In their eyes, I was the best, kindest, most thoughtful big sister.

They called me 'Eleanor Big Sister.' In kindergarten, they even argued with other children, saying, "My big sister is the prettiest, and she protects me."

I always smiled and ruffled their hair. "Of course, I'll protect you for your whole lives, okay?"

I wasn't lying.

I would protect them – until they understood how their mother 'protected' my mother.

That evening, I was curled up on the sofa doing homework, and a business interview program was on TV.

A familiar logo flashed, and the host said enthusiastically:

"Today, we're honored to have Mr. Richard Vance, Chairman of the Vance Group! Welcome!"

The camera zoomed in.

My father was still in his well-tailored suit, his smile gentle, sitting primly in front of the camera.

I stared at his face for a few seconds.

It was so familiar it reminded me of watching cartoons in the living room as a child, when he'd stroke my head and say, "Eleanor, you'll go to an Ivy League someday."

The host smiled and asked, "Mr. Vance, we hear you have a happy and fulfilling family life, with one daughter, Ms. Eleanor Vance. Is it true she's currently studying in the States?"

My father nodded, his smile unwavering. "Yes, I only have one child."

The host teased, "Oh dear, with so many businesses, such a vast empire, Ms. Vance will have quite a lot of pressure to take on all by herself."

My father paused for a moment, his smile faltering slightly.

"Hmm… yes, but I believe she can do it."

I straightened up, staring at the familiar face on the screen, a faint smile playing on my lips.

This was Richard Vance.

In front of the camera, he was as perfect and impenetrable as always.

But I saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a trace of… guilt.

That subconscious evasion, only I could understand.

It wasn't that he was reluctant for me to take over alone.

It was that he longed to tell the world:

"Actually, I have a son."

"The true heir isn't her."

I turned off the TV, sitting in the dark for a long time without moving.

Until my phone screen lit up with a reminder from here at home: the quarterly board meeting live stream was about to begin; Vance Group planned to launch its next round of overseas acquisitions.

I clicked into the live stream, entering my hidden access password.

On the screen were contracts, gambling clauses, fund flow reports, and pages of executive speeches from Vance Group.

I scanned the list of executives, and a smile once again touched my lips.

—Seraphina Hayes's name was prominently listed.

Her title had been upgraded to Global Strategic Executive Advisor, and she was a core member of the overseas acquisition team.

Everything was just as it had been in my past life.

She climbed the corporate ladder step by step, pacifying me, pretending to be a benefactor, doing it all flawlessly.

And on my end, I, too, systematically pressed the sync button, saving all meeting records to my private cloud drive.

Including the internal employee performance evaluation she had submitted last time – signed by her own hand – recommending that my mother's former nominal shares and voting rights in the group be classified as "historical issues pending resolution."

I laughed.

She was acting.

And I was acting too.

Only our scripts were different.

She thought I was a horse, that once I was bridled, she could lead me anywhere.

But I was just waiting – waiting for her to run faster and faster, so I could trip her and send her tumbling to the ground.

At 2 AM, I sat at my desk, the lamplight falling on my notebook. The screen displayed names, profiles, and timelines.

I wrote a line:

"Eleanor Vance, now sixteen years old, Vance's sole legitimate heir, assets in preparation for return."

Four years, not too long, not too short.

The sunsets in Los Angeles were still golden, but I knew it was time for me to go.

On my college graduation day, I didn't invite my father. I only invited my mother.