Chapter 5
Ophelia was lounging on a recliner, flipping through a magazine, when the door to her room suddenly swung open.
She looked up and saw a man step inside.
It was her biological father.
“What are you doing here?” Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat. A flicker of disgust flashed in her eyes, though it was tinged
with fear.
Theodore Frost let out a cold laugh. “What, you think you’d be living this rich little life if I hadn’t dumped you in that alley back then?”
“I’m out of money. Give me some. I want five hundred gold coins.”
Ophelia shot up and glared at him. “Why should I? Have you ever supported me, even for a single day?”
“Five hundred? Where do you expect me to find that kind of money? Why don’t you go rob someone?”
Theodore made himself comfortable at the table, casually pouring a cup of floral tea.
“Cut the crap, Ophelia. Let me tell you-I know all your dirty secrets. Every last one.”
“Be smart and hand over the gold. If you don’t want things to get ugly between us, then do as I say. Otherwise, you know damn well what I’m capable of.”
Ophelia clenched her fists tightly. After a long pause, she finally let them go.
“Fine. Give me some time. I need to go out first. I’ll bring you the money afterward.”
Theodore sneered. “Born a maid’s fate, but playacting a lady’s airs! Caught a chill and already burned through a pile of cash treating it.”
“I’ll give you two days. If I don’t see the gold by then, I’ll pay your dear Nocturne family foster father a little visit.”
With that, Theodore got up, kicked the door open, and walked out.
Ophelia hurled the glass on her bedside table to the floor, shattering it into pieces. Her breathing was ragged, and her eyes brimmed with hatred.
Why?
Why did everyone else get to live happy, carefree lives?
Why was she the one tossed aside by a beast of a father and left to rot in a world of beggars, bullied and despised?
Why was she the one stuck with this kind of wretched life?
She had worked so hard to steal everything that once belonged to Eleonora-to force that pampered Nocturne heiress out of the family.
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She wasn’t going back to that life of scraping by, day after day!
Ophelia pulled herself out of bed.
Ever since she had tricked Eleonora into handing over the comfrey, her recovery had accelerated. She’d be well enough to
leave the house soon.
But right now, all she wanted was to sell off the land and businesses she had stolen from Eleonora.
Once she had the money, she’d disappear forever-
That way, her wretched father would never find her again.
Even those gullible fools in the Nocturne family wouldn’t be able to trace her.
Yes. She had to act fast!
She dismissed the maids and left alone, hiring a carriage to take her straight to the pawnshop.
Once inside, she handed over the deeds-land contracts, property titles, and more-her hands trembling with excitement.
Soon, Eleonora’s fortune would be hers. Soon, she’d be free.
But just as she was brimming with joy, the shop clerk looked up at her, his expression suddenly strange.
“Miss, I’m afraid we can’t process this transaction. You’ll have to leave.”
Ophelia froze. “Can’t process it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Why not? My name is right there on the documents, along with my fingerprint!”
“Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?”
The clerk shook his head. “Miss, it seems you haven’t heard. Asteria City passed a new regulation a few days ago.”
“To sell properties like these, the original owner must be present to confirm the sale in person.”
“If not, then we’re required to verify your relationship to the owner-and their parents, too.”
“And as it happens, someone filed a request just days ago to block the sale of these very properties.”
Ophelia stood there, stunned.
Blocked? How could that be?
Impossible! She had seen Eleonora sign those contracts with her own eyes!
She’d gone over them again and again to make sure they were real. Could Eleonora have pulled something after the fact?
Wait-what about the dowry list?
Ophelia stormed out of the pawnshop and sent messages to several friends.
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Then she sat anxiously in a café, waiting.
A few hours later, a messenger arrived with news.
“Ophelia, those shops, lands, and even the items listed in the dowry-those are all the property of Lady Eleonora of the
Nocturne family.”
“Two days ago, someone from the palace came forward, claiming to be an old friend of hers, and officially filed for full protection of all her assets.”
It felt like something exploded in Ophelia’s head.
