Chapter 4

The next few weeks were a living hell.

News of the "Blakely Usurper" spread through Dallas high society and our university like a virus. Maria, now living in a guest suite in our mansion, played the role of the tragic, long-lost heiress to perfection.

She was a master manipulator. To my parents, she was timid and grateful. To the staff, she was humble and kind. But to the outside world, she painted me as a cold, spoiled princess who had stolen her life.

Former friends started avoiding me in the university hallways. Their polite smiles were replaced with curious, pitying stares. They flocked to Maria, drawn to her dramatic story and her performance of "authenticity."

My loyal best friend, Stella Todd, was my only anchor.

"Can you believe them?" she fumed one afternoon as we sat in the campus library. "They' re all idiots. She' s so obviously fake, Gabby. The way she talks, the way she looks at your family' s things... it' s pure greed."

"I know," I said, trying to focus on my textbook. "But Andrew believes her. And my mother... my mother feels sorry for her."

"Your mother has a soft heart, and Andrew is a romantic fool," Stella said bluntly. "Ethan has his head on straight, at least."

Stella' s loyalty was a comfort, but the public humiliation was relentless. The worst was yet to come.

Stella' s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her face went pale.

"What is it?" I asked.

She didn' t answer. She just turned the phone toward me. It was an Instagram post from a popular gossip account. A picture of my fiancé, Wesley Scott, with his arm around Maria. They were laughing together at a cafe near campus.

The caption read: "A new alliance? Wesley Scott seems to have traded in the Ice Queen for someone with a little more fire. #BlakelyDrama"

My breath caught in my throat. Betrayal, cold and sharp, hit me.

"He wouldn' t," I whispered.

"Oh, he would," Stella said, her voice dripping with disgust. "Wesley is an opportunist. He thinks your status is threatened, so he' s jumping ship to what he thinks is the winning side."

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Wesley.

`We need to talk. I' m outside the library.`

I felt a cold dread as I walked out. He was leaning against his car, looking impatient. Maria was nowhere in sight.

"Gabrielle," he said, not meeting my eyes. "I think we should call off the engagement."

"Because of her?" I asked, my voice flat.

"It' s not just her," he said, finally looking at me. His expression was cold. "I' m tired of this, Gabby. Tired of your perfect, icy composure. Maria... she' s real. She' s authentic. I' m tired of playing a part in the Blakely-Scott business merger."

"So you' d rather play a part in her fantasy?" I shot back.

His face hardened. "Maybe it' s not a fantasy."

The final blow landed later that day. I was in the crowded university commons with Stella when Andrew and Maria walked in. Andrew was holding a large envelope. He looked triumphant.

He walked right up to our table and slapped the envelope down.

"It' s over, Gabrielle," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone around us to hear. "The DNA results are in. I had a private test done."

He ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He held it up for me to see.

I stared at the bold letters at the bottom of the page.

`Probability of Paternity: 99.9%`

The name listed as the daughter was Maria Chavez. My name was listed as having no genetic link.

The world tilted. For one terrifying second, I questioned everything. My dream. My memory. My entire life.

Maria smirked, a look of pure victory on her face. "Get out of my house," she hissed. "You' ve lived my life for long enough."