Janet had never felt so restless and on edge. She could feel the glances—some curious, others mocking—from her coworkers all day.
Still, she kept her head down and focused on her tasks like she always did. But the scene that had unfolded earlier that morning had already made her the number one target of office gossip—and every woman's imagined rival.
She didn't bother defending herself. The moment work ended, she rushed into the elevator and darted out of the building. That's when she saw the familiar Lotus sports car parked at the curb.
"Janet! Get in!" called Peggy, her longtime friend.
They had met back in school—Peggy, the bold and spirited daughter of a wealthy family, had taken an unexpected liking to the quiet, unassuming Janet, who despite her privileged background, had never been favored at home. With Peggy's protection, the two had once been the talk of the campus, a duo everyone knew.
Janet hadn't waited until graduation to start working. She'd struck out on her own early, driven by a desire to prove herself—and to avoid the constant jabs from her so-called stepsister, who loved to flaunt her "superior" education and status.
"What are you doing here again?" Janet asked, running toward the car. As soon as she saw Peggy dressed head-to-toe in a chic, ladylike outfit, she knew her friend was up to something again.
"You disappeared last night right after my brother showed up! Did you drink too much or what? How'd you even get home?" Peggy asked with genuine concern. Janet's pale face betrayed nothing, which only made her more worried.
Last night had been a rare occasion—Peggy had finally convinced Janet to come with her to a masquerade party at her private club. She'd just wanted Janet to meet new people, to breathe a little.
Peggy knew better than anyone what kind of home Janet came from: a mother who didn't care, a sister who scorned her, and a useless father who never stood up for her.
Peggy had tried more than once to get her friend to leave that cold, loveless house, but Janet had always refused.
That emotional prison had turned a bright, promising girl into someone closed off and withdrawn. Sometimes, Peggy honestly wondered if Janet's mother was even really her biological mom.
"Oh, I just took a cab home," Janet said quickly, her cheeks flushing at the memory of the previous night. She'd spent the whole evening with a complete stranger—and the worst part? She couldn't even remember what he looked like.
Peggy gave her a long, dramatic sigh. "Come on, can't you just give my brother a chance?"
Janet met Peggy's pleading eyes and instantly knew what she was up to. Simon—charming, handsome, and effortlessly charismatic—was way out of her league. She wasn't worthy of someone like him.
"Where are we going now?" Janet asked, pretending not to hear Peggy's comment as she adjusted her glasses and looked out the window. Peggy had already hit the gas.
"I swear, I just want to rip that ridiculous outfit off you," Peggy muttered under her breath, glancing her friend up and down.
She couldn't for the life of her understand what went on in Janet's head. Janet had the kind of beauty that made other women jealous—flawless features, striking eyes—but she insisted on hiding behind those huge, clunky glasses.
And that ill-fitting suit? It completely swallowed her slender figure and made her look painfully average.
Janet gave a dry laugh. They really did live in two different worlds. Having someone like Peggy as a loyal friend—someone who actually cared—was more than she ever expected or deserved.
Just as Peggy's car turned past the edge of the street, Janet caught sight of a sleek black Bugatti Veyron pulling out of a nearby lot.
The man inside gave off an aura so sharp it felt like X-ray vision—when their cars passed each other, Janet could swear a chill shot straight through her chest.
The neon lights of the city cast the night in a surreal golden glow. A cool summer breeze cut through the day's heat and noise, sweeping the sky clean and peaceful.
But in the quiet, upscale neighborhood on the city's edge, chaos brewed inside the Louis family estate—shattering the serenity of the moonlit evening.
"You want me to marry a cripple? Are you out of your mind, Dad? I'm the heiress of the Louis family!" Elvira stormed into the living room in a skimpy mini-dress, fresh from the dance club, only to be met with Harold's outrageous announcement.
An engagement arranged ten years ago? How had she never heard a word about it?
Elvira was now a grown woman—stunning, confident, and full of life. Her foxlike eyes shimmered with desire for a real man, not some broken shell.
And now Harold wanted her to marry a useless cripple? It didn't matter how rich or powerful he was—she refused to spend the rest of her life in a cold, empty marriage!
"He's Philip Elwin, heir to the Elwin Corporation. And he's only partially paralyzed, Elvira. Don't be so shallow," Harold said, his cultured features softening as he turned to the elegant woman seated calmly on the couch. "We can't back out of this. Ten years ago, when your grandfather's company was on the brink of collapse, it was Chairman Elwin who stepped in and saved it. Your mother can confirm that."
Harold's voice was firm, but there was an edge of pleading. In this house, he was always a step below her, and it was that same imbalance that had cost him the woman he once loved...
"I don't care!" Elvira snapped. "You made the deal, you marry him! I'm not tying myself to some half-dead invalid!" The thought of spending every night beside a man confined to a wheelchair was enough to give her nightmares.
"Mom, you're really okay with your daughter marrying a cripple?" she cried, seeing Harold's rare flash of anger. Elvira dropped her spoiled princess act and turned to her mother, Anila, eyes wide with desperation.
Everyone knew who truly held the reins in this household—and that was Anila, the woman with a sharper mind and tougher resolve than Harold ever had. There was no way she'd let her daughter marry a man who was, by all accounts, physically useless.
The mysterious Philip Elwin had been fiercely protected by the Elwin family and had never once appeared in public.
No one even knew what he looked like. The engagement had been arranged years ago between Elvira's grandfather and Derrick Elwin, back when Philip was healthy. But six years ago, Philip was in a car accident—and everything changed.
They were supposed to proceed with the engagement once Elvira turned twenty, but Anila had delayed it with the excuse that her daughter was still in school. Now, however, the Elwins had suddenly revived the arrangement—and there was no way the Louis family could match their influence.
Anila's mind raced. Then, as Janet slipped silently into the room like a ghost, a spark lit in her eyes—cold, cunning, and strangely delighted.
"Dad, Mom, Sis… I'm going to my room," Janet said quietly. Scenes like this—so warm, so united—had always made her feel like an outsider.
Despite being a daughter of the Louis family too, she and Elvira were worlds apart. In this house, aside from the occasional polite word from Harold, her presence was barely acknowledged. She wasn't much more than a servant.
"It's not like Elvira is the *only* daughter in the Louis family," Anila said slowly, her gaze lingering in the direction Janet had disappeared. A curious gleam danced in her eyes. After all, by name… Janet *was* her daughter too.
"You mean...?" Elvira's eyes widened in shock as she caught her mother's meaning. Her gaze followed Anila's, lifting toward the third floor of the house. And just like that, a wave of vicious satisfaction passed between mother and daughter.
Ten years ago, a fire had taken Cornelia's life—but her daughter had miraculously survived. And Harold, upon hearing the news, had rushed to bring the severely burned girl back to the Louis estate, regardless of anyone's opinion.
That girl—was Janet.
Or more accurately... Janice.
The fire had only claimed the life of Anila's most hated rival, Cornelia. What no one expected was that her daughter would end up benefiting from the tragedy, slipping into the Louis family like an uninvited ghost.
Back then, she was just nine years old. Cornelia had pushed her away in a final act of protection, shielding her from the collapsing flames. A heavy, burning beam struck Janice's head as the roof caved in. And when she woke up in the hospital days later, everything had changed.
It was as if she'd been reborn.
And so, after being brought into the Louis household, she was given a new name:
Janet.