Chapter 116: Are You A Bastard?

Sylvia laughed and shrugged.

"You should have known by now that when it comes to you, I’m never shameless."

Amelia shook her head, but a small smile slowly appeared on her face.

She tried to hide it by looking away.

There was something about the way Sylvia said things so confidently that always made it difficult for her to stay serious.

Without saying anything else, Amelia bent down and immediately started putting on her sneakers.

She lowered her head, focusing on the laces as her fingers moved through them.

She didn’t really need to pay that much attention to them.

She simply needed something else to look at.

Anything that wasn’t Sylvia.

Because if she looked at her again, she knew Sylvia would probably notice the embarrassment still written all over her face.

Sylvia smiled to herself as she turned around and continued putting on her clothes.

"Don’t worry. When I’m done dressing, I will go and wear it."

"Take your sneakers," Amelia said, pointing toward the pair she had kept beside the dressing table.

Sylvia glanced over her shoulder at the sneakers.

Her eyes lingered on them for a moment before she turned back and continued dressing.

"Thanks, babe," she said quietly.

Amelia finished tying her sneakers and stood up.

She reached for her backpack and pulled it closer to herself.

The weight of it settled against her shoulder as she adjusted the strap.

She was just about to leave when a thought suddenly came to her.

The presentation.

Her expression changed slightly.

They might actually have a presentation today.

She couldn’t afford to forget her laptop.

Amelia quickly turned around and walked back toward the table.

She picked up her laptop first, and then she picked up Sylvia’s own too.

She held both of them carefully for a moment before placing them inside her backpack.

The bag became slightly heavier, but she didn’t mind.

She zipped it shut and pulled the strap securely over her shoulder.

"I’m with your laptop," she said, turning toward Sylvia as she began walking toward the door. "Meet me downstairs when you’re done."

Her voice was calm now. She reached the door and placed her hand around the handle.

But before opening it, she paused.

Something playful suddenly crossed her mind.

She turned around and looked at Sylvia.

Sylvia was still getting dressed, completely unaware of what Amelia was about to say.

Amelia pressed her lips together. She almost decided not to say it.

"Don’t forget your panties, please."

The words left her mouth, and for one second, she stood there. Then reality hit her.

What did I just say?

Before Sylvia could even respond, Amelia quickly opened the door and stepped outside.

She pulled the door closed behind her.

Click.

The soft sound of the lock settling into place seemed unusually loud in the quiet hallway.

I froze. My hand was still resting on the door handle as my eyes slowly widened.

I actually said that.

I pulled my hand away and stared at the closed door.

A strange mixture of embarrassment and amusement spread through me.

I raised one hand and pressed it against my chest. My heart was beating much faster than it should have been.

"What did I just say?" I whispered.

I shook my head. My cheeks were already burning.

I could almost imagine Sylvia’s face on the other side of the door.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

The cool air in the hallway brushed against my warm face, but it did little to calm me down.

I let out the breath slowly. "Damn it."

A small smile escaped me despite myself. I couldn’t even stay embarrassed for long.

I turned away from the door and started walking toward the staircase.

My shoes made soft sounds against the polished floor.

The house was quiet.

Morning light came through the large windows, falling across the hallway and spreading over the floor in pale golden patches.

The curtains moved slightly whenever the cool morning breeze slipped through the gaps around the windows.

I held onto the strap of my backpack as I approached the stairs.

The bag swung gently against my side with every step.

I placed one foot on the first step and began walking down.

My thoughts were still upstairs.

I could already imagine Sylvia laughing at me.

I shook my head.

Why did I have to say that?

I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back another smile.

The more I thought about it, the more embarrassed I became.

But at the same time, there was a strange warmth in my chest.

It wasn’t only embarrassment.

It was the feeling of being comfortable enough around someone to say things I would normally never say.

I continued down the stairs.

My fingers tightened slightly around the backpack strap.

The laptop inside bumped softly against the other things in the bag as I walked.

When I reached the last step, I stepped into the living room.

The atmosphere downstairs felt different.

It was warmer.

More alive.

Soft morning sounds came from the dining area—the faint clinking of plates, the movement of dishes, and the quiet footsteps of the servants moving around.

Then the smell reached me.

Breakfast.

The rich aroma of freshly prepared food filled the air and immediately made my stomach tighten with hunger.

My mouth began watering.

I took a slow breath through my nose.

The smell was warm and comforting, the kind that made the house feel even more like home.

I looked toward the dining table.

Everything had already been arranged neatly.

Plates sat in their proper places, cutlery had been placed beside them, and several dishes were spread across the table, still warm enough for faint steam to rise from some of them.

The smell seemed to cling to the air around the dining room.

My stomach growled softly, and I immediately placed a hand over it.

"Seriously?"

I let out a quiet laugh.

I adjusted my backpack on my shoulder and started walking toward the dining table.

The weight of the laptops pressed against my back as I moved.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. The soft scrape of the chair against the floor sounded louder than it should have in the quiet dining room as I settled into it.

I reached for a plate, ready to serve myself, when someone suddenly cleared her throat.

I stopped.

I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

I let out a soft breath and picked up the plate anyway, setting it in front of me. My movements were slow, almost careful, as if keeping myself busy would stop me from thinking about anything else.

"You still have the appetite to eat in someone else’s house?" Janina asked.

There was a small laugh in her voice, but there was nothing warm about it.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the plate.

"Shouldn’t you be looking for who actually belongs to our family?" she continued. "Or are you a bastard?"

My hand went completely still.

For a moment, everything around me seemed to disappear.

The sound of the servants moving around, the faint clinking of cutlery, and even the aroma of the food in front of me.

The words hit me harder than I expected.

My head began to beat faster than it should have, a dull pressure building behind my eyes. I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat didn’t go away.

She wasn’t actually wrong.

I had been trying so hard not to think about it that I had almost convinced myself I could continue living like this.

But how long could I keep pretending?

Why hadn’t I asked about my real parents?

Why hadn’t I searched for answers?

Was I really going to continue living as a fake heiress while everyone around me knew the truth?

The questions rushed through my mind, one after another, leaving no room for anything else.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape from my eyes. My vision became slightly blurry, and I lowered my face, hoping Janina wouldn’t notice.

"I just said I should give you some suggestions," Janina said, sounding amused.

She didn’t sound sorry.

If anything, she sounded pleased with herself.

I heard her footsteps move away from the dining room.

A few seconds later, the sound disappeared completely.

I didn’t move at all. I just stared blankly at the plate in front of me.

The food that had smelled so good only moments ago suddenly made my stomach turn.

My throat felt tight.

I lowered my eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the thoughts filling my head.

My fingers remained on the edge of the table as I tried to swallow the tightness in my throat.

"Hey, Minnie," Sylvia called as she walked in.

I didn’t turn to look at her.

"Minnie?" she called again, but I still didn’t look at her.

I was afraid.

Afraid that if I looked at her, she would see everything on my face.

And, most of all, the question that had suddenly begun eating at me.

Was Sylvia really with me because she loved me?

Or was she only dating me because she felt sorry for me?

Maybe everyone was pretending.

My chest felt heavier.

I lowered my head slightly. I didn’t want Sylvia to see me like this.

I didn’t want her to look at me differently.

I heard her footsteps approaching. The chair beside me moved slightly as she came closer, and then she stopped in front of me.

I could feel her presence without looking up.

Sylvia tilted her head, trying to catch my attention.

She smiled gently. "Come on. Look at me."

Her voice was soft. And that softness almost broke me.

I slowly lifted my eyes.

The moment Sylvia saw my face, the smile disappeared from hers. Her brows pulled together immediately, and concern replaced the playful expression she had worn upstairs.

"What is that, babe?" she asked quietly.

I stared at her. For a few seconds, I couldn’t say anything.

Her eyes searched mine, waiting for an answer.

I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to ask her if she really loved me.

I wanted to ask if she would still choose me if I wasn’t the person everyone thought I was, but the words wouldn’t come.

My lips trembled slightly, and I looked away.

Then, before I could lose my courage, I forced the words out.

"You know what, Sylvia..."

I swallowed hard.

My heart felt like it was breaking before I had even finished speaking.

"Let’s break up."