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.

The middle-aged man standing ahead, whose features bore a striking resemblance to Callum's, was Laurence Smith—Katherine's biological father.

Emotion shimmered in his eyes as he discreetly wiped the moisture gathering at their corners. Clearing his throat, he said gently, "Katherine, you must be worn out after such a long journey. Come, let's go inside."

Before Katherine could respond, a young woman dressed with meticulous elegance spoke up from Juliette's side. "Aunt Juliette, your health isn't strong. Ricky said you shouldn't let your emotions run too high."

Juliette finally managed to steady herself. Still, her hand clung to Katherine's.

"My darling, from now on, I'll take care of you myself," she said softly, her voice trembling with resolve. "I won't ever let you leave my side again."

Katherine felt a warmth bloom quietly in her chest. "Okay," she replied, her voice sincere.

The young woman stepped forward at once, carefully supporting Juliette. Turning to Katherine, she offered a gentle smile. "I'm Caylee Wright—your cousin. I've been looking after Aunt Juliette all these years. She's always talked about you. I'm truly happy you've finally come home."

Katherine acknowledged her with a soft hum.

Yet, in that brief exchange, she had already sensed something amiss. Behind Caylee's flawless smile lingered a trace of hostility—subtle, well-hidden, but unmistakable.

Seeing her daughter before her seemed to have restored some color to Juliette's face. She smiled faintly and said, "Caylee, I'm deeply grateful for everything you've done for me all these years. But now that Katherine is back, you don't need to come by so often anymore. You should spend more time doing things you enjoy."

Caylee stiffened. Her smile faltered, and her eyes reddened in an instant. "Aunt Juliette… are you asking me to leave?"

"That's not what I meant," Juliette replied gently, patting Caylee's hand. "I just don't want you exhausting yourself because of me."

A flash of jealousy and resentment flickered through Caylee's eyes. So soon after reuniting with her biological daughter, Juliette was already eager to push her aside.

Lowering her head, Caylee dabbed at her eyes and said softly, with carefully measured sorrow, "Taking care of you was never a burden to me. If you don't want to see me anymore, I won't come again."

Juliette's expression immediately softened.

Over the years, she had genuinely grown fond of Caylee and could not bear to see her distressed. "That's not what I mean at all," she said hurriedly. "If you wish, you can stay here with Katherine and me."

Caylee lifted her head then and turned to Katherine, her expression cautious, almost fragile. "Don't misunderstand, Katherine. I just want to stay by Aunt Juliette's side."

Throughout it all, Katherine had remained calm, her expression unreadable. Having already seen through Caylee's little performance, she replied evenly, "That's fine. I don't mind."

To Katherine, worry would only arise if Juliette had discarded the girl who had stood by her for twenty years as easily as Ariella once had. As long as Caylee didn't provoke trouble, her presence meant nothing.

Her composed, flawless response left Caylee momentarily speechless.

Instinctively, Caylee understood—Katherine was not someone easily manipulated.

By then, Juliette had already made her way toward a neatly arranged stack of luxury gift boxes in the living room. She beckoned Katherine over with a tender smile. "Your father and I prepared these for you. A few more are still on their way."

The familiar brand logos caused Katherine's eyes to widen slightly.

Most of them belonged to Katrine's brand.

Juliette reached for an ornate brocade box and opened it carefully, revealing an emerald necklace of striking elegance, its gemstones glowing with a deep, timeless luster. "This belonged to your grandmother," Juliette said softly. "Now, I want you to have it."

Katherine couldn't help thinking that she had finally received something not of her own design.

Well-versed in fine jewelry, she recognized at once the rarity of the gems. The necklace was easily worth over a hundred million dollars.

Across from her, Caylee's smile stiffened. A ripple of frustration and bitterness surged within her.

That necklace was the Wright family's heirloom, passed down through generations and bestowed only upon the family's true leader.

Her own father, Juliette's brother, had been a disappointment, which was why her grandmother had entrusted it to Juliette instead.

The necklace symbolized authority—proof that even after marrying into the Smith family, Juliette still held the final say in the Wright family's most critical matters.

Caylee had always believed it would eventually be hers.

She had never imagined Juliette would give it to Katherine so casually.

Suppressing the jealousy clawing at her chest, Caylee forced a gentle tone and asked, "Aunt Juliette… this is still the Wright family's heirloom. Shouldn't we consult Grandma first?"