Lilah's lips curved into a faint, deliberate smile. "You're really leaving with just that?" she asked lightly. "Or are you hoping Mom and Dad will pity you if you look miserable enough, Katherine?"

Before Katherine could react, Lilah reached out and yanked the canvas bag from her hand.

The strap slipped loose. Its contents spilled across the marble floor—simple necessities, nothing extravagant.

Yet among them, something gleamed. A small jewelry box rolled aside, its lid falling open, revealing a bracelet studded with deep-blue diamonds that caught the light in a sudden, dazzling flare.

All eyes were drawn to it. Lilah's breath hitched.

She recognized it instantly. It was the debut piece of Katrine, the legendary jewelry designer—a creation once valued at five million dollars, now rumored to be worth twice that.

Lilah had admired it countless times in glossy magazines, never imagining she would see it here… much less in Katherine's possession.

Her eyes lit up with undisguised desire. "Katherine, this is a Katrine original," Lilah exclaimed, her voice sharp with accusation. "It's worth ten million dollars! How could you just take it without saying a word?"

Katherine bent down calmly and picked up the bracelet.

Resting in her slender palm, the diamonds shimmered softly, their light shifting with every slight movement.

Around her, greed flickered unmistakably in the Warren couple's eyes.

They both knew the bracelet had once belonged to Hazel Warren, Roger's mother. She had given it to Katherine shortly before her death. But none of them had ever known its true value.

Ariella's expression darkened at once. "Exactly. What right do you have to take it? You're not even our biological daughter. That bracelet belongs to Hazel's real granddaughter. Give it to Lilah—now."

Roger's face hardened as well. He had no intention of letting a fortune walk out the door with someone he no longer acknowledged as family. "Katherine, you shouldn't take that bracelet with you," he said sternly.

For the first time, Katherine felt genuine disbelief—not at their greed, but at the depth of their shamelessness.

She lifted her gaze, her voice icy. "And what makes you think it was Grandma who gave me the bracelet?"

The bracelet had never been a purchase. It had been a creation.

Hazel was the only person in the Warren family who had ever treated Katherine with genuine kindness. She had been her shelter, her warmth, her quiet refuge in a cold household. Inspired by that bond, Katherine had designed the bracelet herself, naming it "Guardian of Stars."

After Hazel's passing, it had naturally returned to its creator.

As Katherine spoke, Lilah's face stiffened.

She quickly lowered her gaze, her voice softening into something fragile. "If you really don't want to give it back, I won't force you. I just… regret that I came back too late. I didn't even get to see Grandma."

Katherine paused. Then she looked straight at Lilah. "When did Grandma pass away?"

The question landed like a blade. Lilah froze, her mind blank. She didn't know.

Roger and Ariella stiffened as well.

They remembered. Hazel had died five years ago—long after Katrine had already risen to fame.

Back then, the Warren family's business was barely surviving. Even possessing a million dollars would have been unthinkable, let alone five.

That meant one thing. Hazel could never have bought that bracelet.

Still, Lilah refused to concede. Her voice rose sharply, almost desperate. "Even if it wasn't Grandma who bought the bracelet, it was still paid for by the Warren family!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she noticed the strange expressions on her parents' and Katherine's faces.

Katherine let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "I can't believe I wasted my breath arguing with someone this foolish." Without another glance, she turned and walked out of the house.

Lilah instinctively moved to follow her, but Roger stopped her with a hand.

"There's no point," he said. "That bracelet can't be real."

They were convinced the bracelet had to be fake. Otherwise, how could Katherine possibly own something so valuable?

Ariella scoffed, curling her lip in disdain. "She probably bought a cheap imitation to show off. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll buy you plenty of real jewelry."

Lilah nodded, though disappointment lingered in her eyes.

The bracelet had looked real—too real.

Still, she reassured herself. She was the only daughter of the Warren couple now. Anything she wanted would eventually be hers.

Just then, a thunderous roar shook the air. The three of them rushed to the window as a line of helicopters swept across the sky, their engines deafening. "Who could be that extravagant?" Ariella murmured in disbelief.

Outside, Katherine was already walking down the hillside, her small bag slung over one shoulder, when the roaring sound made her stop.

The helicopters were heading straight toward her.

Powerful gusts of wind whipped through the grass as they descended, landing smoothly nearby. Katherine instinctively closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, a man had stepped out of one of the helicopters.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his presence commanding, unmistakably striking. With long strides, he approached her, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"You must be my little sister," he said smoothly. "You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

Katherine instinctively took a step back, her gaze sharpening as she studied the man standing before her.

For a brief moment, she wondered if exhaustion and emotional turmoil had finally blurred her senses. But the roaring helicopters behind him, the steady gaze in his eyes, and the undeniable weight of his presence told her this was no illusion.

There was no one else around, which meant… the man was truly speaking to her.

With a polite yet guarded tone, Katherine replied, "I think you've mistaken me for someone else."

She had been told that her biological parents were fishermen from Cloud Village—people who struggled daily against the sea just to survive. The Warrens had spoken of them with thinly veiled disdain, claiming they were so destitute they could barely keep themselves alive.

Yet nothing about the man before her aligned with that narrative. The fabric of his suit was clearly custom-made. A limited-edition watch glinted faintly on his wrist.

Behind him, a fleet of Ecrance's latest military-grade helicopters stood poised, ready to be deployed in combat mode if the need arose.

Nothing about this scene aligned with the life she had been told was hers.

The man, named Callum Smith, offered a gentle smile as he extended a paternity test report to her. "I haven't mistaken you. Your name is Katherine Warren. And you are my sister."

Katherine felt herself freeze, her gaze dropping to the report in her hands.

The document laid bare the undeniable truth: a staggering 99.99% genetic match with Laurence Smith, confirming their bond as father and daughter.

Laurence Smith… The name echoed in her mind, stirring a sense of familiarity.

Callum, his voice softening, continued, "When our mother was pregnant with you, she traveled to Ontbert for a short vacation. During that trip, she suffered an accident and went into premature labor. You were born early and immediately taken into neonatal care. But when our family arrived at the hospital, you were already gone. We never stopped looking for you..."

The Smith family had only recently learned of the Warren couple's discovery of their real daughter, and the coincidence of her being lost in the very location where Katherine had gone missing was not lost on them.

Callum's voice grew thick with emotion. "When we saw your photograph, we knew it was you. You bear an uncanny resemblance to our mother in her youth."

The truth unraveled like a tragic tapestry: the fishing couple in Cloud Village had lost their own child at birth. Broken by grief, they had taken advantage of a moment of negligence and stolen Katherine away.

On the very same day, a fire broke out at the hospital. Amid the chaos, a nurse mistakenly switched the identification tags of Katherine and another infant, Lilah, resulting in both babies being placed with the wrong families.

Everything aligned at last. Katherine had been stolen first—taken from her real family. Then, through human error and disaster, fate had sealed the mistake.

Katherine stood momentarily entranced by the revelation. Her true family, the Smiths, belonged to one of Vroiksey's four wealthiest and most powerful clans, a dynasty so formidable that even a century of effort wouldn't allow the Warrens to catch up. It felt unreal.

Steeling herself, Katherine lifted her gaze slowly, her eyes drifting once more toward the helicopters waiting behind Callum.

Had he really brought all this… just for her?

For the first time in her life, she felt the unsettling weight of being wanted.

Love—unconditional love—was something she had never known. In the Warren household, only Hazel had shown her warmth. Roger and Ariella had treated her with indifference at best, resentment at worst, as though her existence were an inconvenience. Perhaps, without any of them realizing it, it was the silent truth of their bloodless relation at play.

Unable to suppress her curiosity, she inquired, "Did you really need this many helicopters just to take me home?"

Callum raised an eyebrow, a trace of dry humor flickering in his eyes. "I bought them just before this trip. You'll be their first passenger."

Katherine fell silent for a heartbeat, then nodded faintly. "So… you just happened to pass by and decided to pick me up?"

"Not quite!" Callum interjected swiftly, concern etching his features as he sensed Katherine's doubt. "I received a message from Mom and Dad instructing me to come and bring you back. I bought these helicopters specifically for the journey, and I have gifts for the Warrens as well."

Those "gifts" were priceless antiques, rare gems, and investment shares worth over a billion dollars. The Smith family even intended to extend an invitation to the Warrens for a formal gathering in Vroiksey, a grand gesture of gratitude.

At the mention of the Warrens, Katherine's smile faded.

They didn't deserve any of it.

"They're not home. Let's just go," she said, her voice devoid of warmth.

Callum's expression turned puzzled as he glanced toward the hillside villa, a shadow of doubt creeping into his mind regarding the unfortunate timing of it all.

But Katherine had already turned away, walking decisively toward the nearest helicopter.

Just as she reached the door, she stopped.

Someone was inside.

Through the tinted window, she glimpsed a figure seated lazily in the cabin. Dim amber lights illuminated his sculpted features. His long legs occupied most of the space, and his relaxed posture exuded an effortless, aristocratic grace.

Katherine's breath caught. Stefan White. What was he doing here?

At that moment, Stefan slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes settled on Katherine's delicate features, scrutinizing her with the predatory focus of a hawk assessing unfamiliar prey.

After a moment, his thin lips parted slightly. "Have we met before?"

Katherine instinctively lowered her lashes and answered in a soft, obedient voice, "No."

Stefan White—the newly appointed head of the White family—was infamous in elite circles for his mercurial temperament and ruthless decisiveness. Katherine knew better than to entangle herself with a man like him. Distance, she sensed, was her safest choice.

Hearing her calm reply, Stefan withdrew his oppressive gaze. The faint suspicion lingering in his eyes slowly faded.

A year ago, during an ambush overseas, he had narrowly escaped death. A mysterious woman with extraordinary marksmanship had appeared out of nowhere, saved him, and vanished without leaving a trace. Despite all his resources, he had never managed to find her.

That woman had concealed her face with a black scarf, revealing only a pair of eyes. Those eyes—cold, resolute, and fearless—had the same shape as Katherine's.

Yet the girl standing before him now looked far too gentle, too innocent. She couldn't possibly be the same person.

Callum, who had just arrived beside them, was utterly stunned.

He never imagined he would live to hear Stefan strike up a conversation with a girl. He even considered recording the moment and sending it to their private group chat—purely for historical preservation.

His little sister, it seemed, possessed an unexpected talent for charming even men like Stefan.

Clearing his throat, Callum stepped in. "This is Stefan White. The Smith and White families have been close for generations. The flight base where I bought these helicopters belongs to his family, and I'm generous enough to give him a ride."

"I gave you a twenty-percent discount," Stefan added coolly, his voice tinged with displeasure.

His gaze flicked toward Katherine once more.

She remained composed, her expression serene.

Callum waved it off carelessly. A discount—or the lack of one—meant nothing to him anyway.

He turned back to Katherine, his tone softening. "Mom and Dad were overjoyed when they learned you were alive. They've been waiting for you at home."

Katherine's heart skipped. She felt a strange flutter of anticipation.

The sky was beginning to pale with dawn.

Soon, a line of helicopters descended gracefully onto the vast grounds of a magnificent estate. Nearby, a Rolls-Royce Phantom belonging to the White family waited in silence.

Without a word, Stefan stepped into the car, his expression as indifferent as ever.

Callum glanced at Katherine and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't mind him. He's just got a terrible temper. Don't be afraid of him."

Katherine blinked slightly. She hadn't even said she was afraid.

Inside the moving car, Stefan stared at the shrinking figure in the rearview mirror. The suspicion he had suppressed began to surface again.

Not only did Katherine's eyes resemble that woman's… Even her silhouette looked strangely familiar.

Could two people in this world truly be so alike?

Levi Ward, Stefan's longtime assistant, noticed his unusual distraction.

He had rarely seen his employer lost in thought like this.

After a moment's hesitation, Levi asked carefully, "Sir, would you like to pay a visit to the Smith family?"

Stefan's cold eyes darkened.

He had no reasonable excuse.

After a brief silence, he ordered, "Reinvestigate the assassination attempt from last year. Collect every piece of footage related to that woman."

"Yes, sir." Levi was surprised, though he said nothing.

He knew Stefan had never given up searching for his savior—but he hadn't expected him to bring it up again now.

As the White family's car disappeared into the distance, Katherine followed Callum toward the main building.

A woman rushed toward them, her frame slender, her expression strained with urgency and sorrow. Before Katherine could fully take in her features, she was pulled into a tight embrace.

Juliette Smith, Katherine's biological mother, clung to her as if afraid she might disappear again. "My darling… I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

For twenty years, regret had haunted Juliette relentlessly. She believed that if she hadn't fallen during pregnancy, Katherine wouldn't have been born prematurely. If she had been more vigilant… If she had protected her better… None of this would have happened.

Before Katherine could speak, Juliette's tears soaked her shoulder.

Katherine gently returned the embrace. "It's alright," she whispered. "I'm home now."

She met her mother's reddened eyes. Warmth spread through her chest, flowing into her limbs like a quiet tide. Juliette was thinner than she had imagined—fragile, almost translucent.

On the way home, Callum had told her everything. Juliette had blamed herself day and night for two decades.

She had punished herself with endless guilt, barely sleeping, barely eating. Her health had deteriorated year after year. It was all because she believed she had been the one to blame.

Now, hearing Katherine's gentle words, Juliette finally broke down. She sobbed uncontrollably in her daughter's arms. For the first time in twenty years, her heart felt lighter. For the first time, she felt that perhaps she could finally forgive herself.