Everyone froze in place.

Had their eyes betrayed them?

The President, who always stayed away from women, was walking forward with a woman cradled securely in his arms.

Five full seconds passed after the elevator doors slid shut behind him. Five seconds of absolute stillness, as though the hallway itself had been sealed in ice.

The hotel executives and security detail exchanged glances that said everything they dared not voice.

Their backs were straight, hands folded neatly at their sides, expressions carved into perfect masks of professionalism. Yet beneath that composure, shock and disbelief churned like a rising tide.

The incident was suppressed swiftly, sealed behind layers of authority and silence.

Still, truth had a way of leaking through the smallest cracks. That very night, in a private online group reserved exclusively for the city's most powerful figures, a single blurry photograph appeared.

The image was poor, distorted by motion and bad lighting—but unmistakable. The broad shoulders. The sharp profile. The unmistakable bearing of authority. It was the President. And in his arms, held tightly against him, was a woman.

The chat erupted.

"Am I hallucinating? Is that our ascetic President?"

"Oh my God! Wasn't it common knowledge that Mr. President was allergic to women?"

"Place your bets. Who's the mystery girl he's holding?"

Meanwhile, several women from the most elite families—the ones who had long envisioned themselves as the future First Lady—lost their composure all at once. Crystal wine glasses shattered in their clenched hands, red liquid spilling across marble floors.

...

Valerie shifted slightly in Leland's arms, a faint and troubled sound escaping her throat.

Leland lifted a hand and rested it against her back, patting gently until her breathing evened out again and she sank back into sleep.

Beside them, Terry Simpson, head of the presidential security detail, swallowed hard.

In five years of unwavering service, he had never seen the President show this kind of attentiveness to any woman.

Unable to suppress his curiosity, Terry slowed his pace, falling half a step behind. He leaned toward Emma, who walked close by, and whispered, "What's going on? I've never seen the President treat a woman like this. Who is she?"

Emma's lips curved slightly, her smile measured and unreadable. "Maybe the President will soon have a girlfriend."

Just moments earlier, as Leland stepped into the elevator, Sarah, finally freed from the invisible barrier of security, emerged from around the corner.

The moment she saw the woman in her son's arms, she could barely contain her smile.

Thank God. Her son had finally taken an interest in a woman.

An hour later, Emma exited Leland's private medical room after finishing treatment on Valerie's wound. She approached him to give her report.

Leland was in the middle of a high-level video conference. At the sight of Emma, he gestured for his staff to wrap it up.

"What's her condition?" he asked.

Watching him dismiss an entire conference for the sake of one woman, Emma instinctively reassessed Valerie's importance.

She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Based on the depth and direction of the cut, the wound appears to have been self-inflicted."

Leland's expression darkened instantly.

He remembered it clearly—how Valerie had torn the wound open to fight the effects of the drug.

For such an iron-willed woman, taking her own life wasn't an option.

He found himself intrigued—far more than he was comfortable admitting. Still, interest did not entitle him to intrusion. If she had no wish to know him, he would not force fate's hand. They could remain nothing more than strangers whose paths had brushed briefly in passing.

"Send her to the hospital," he said after a moment. "Have her cared for until she wakes. And make sure she doesn't learn who I am."

With that, Leland turned and walked away.

...

Valerie was lost in a dream soaked in gunfire.

She stood alone, dressed in tactical gear, the ground beneath her shaking as bullets tore through the air.

Enemies advanced in formation—members of a rival mercenary group—surrounding her like wolves closing in on wounded prey.

"Phantom!" the enemy commander roared. "Surrender now. I'll make it quick!"

Her reply was a single, merciless shot. His head snapped back, his body dropping before the echo faded.

Valerie moved like a force of nature. Her shots were cold, precise, relentless. One by one, they fell, until the battlefield was silent.

But her blood soaked into the dirt. With the last of her strength, she transmitted her coordinates.

Before long, a truck slammed into her.

Valerie jolted awake, sitting bolt upright, her eyes burning red.

There had been a traitor. She would find them. And when she did, there would be no mercy.

Her gaze shifted to the IV drip beside the bed. Without hesitation, she pulled the needle from her arm and rose, heading straight for the bathroom.

The mirror greeted her with a cruel truth.

Half her face was smooth, flawless.

The other half was ruined—jagged red scars twisting across her skin, angry and uneven, destroying all symmetry.

She lifted a hand and traced the scarred side slowly, her brow tightening.

Back when Valerie had been Phantom, her name alone carried weight in the underworld—dangerous, beautiful, lethal, a combination whispered with awe and fear.

She had been obsessively meticulous about herself. Appearance was not vanity to her; it was discipline. Even in the middle of missions soaked in blood and gunpowder, she never allowed a single detail to slip into disorder.

The scars on this face, however, were wrong. They weren't the natural result of injury or battle. They carried the ugly signature of chemicals—ragged, uneven, the unmistakable aftermath of a drug forced into the body.

The original owner of this body had lived beneath those scars like a curse.

As a legitimate daughter of the Todd family, she had never once dared to compete with their adopted daughter for anything.

Someone had ruined her face deliberately, turning her into what others cruelly called an ugly freak.

Detoxifying the substance would have been effortless for Valerie. But the moment she did it, her true identity would surface, dragging danger straight to her doorstep.

Now was not the time. She had to wait.

As fragments of the original owner's memories surfaced—being pushed aside, watching opportunities stolen, affection handed freely to someone else, enduring relentless bullying and humiliation—a chill spread through Valerie's veins. Her gaze hardened.

"Rest easy, Valerie," she murmured softly to the reflection staring back at her. "I'm here now. I'll make every one of your enemies pay in blood."

She returned to the Todd Manor by taxi. The moment she stepped out of the car, a sharp-eyed servant noticed her.

Lucy George moved quickly, positioning herself squarely in Valerie's path. "Valerie, how dare you stay out all night! You're not allowed inside."

Valerie didn't even glance at her. She kept walking.

Lucy's temper flared. She reached out and grabbed Valerie's arm. "I'm talking to you! Are you deaf or..."

Valerie's eyes turned glacial. In one smooth motion, she caught Lucy's wrist and twisted—hard.

A sharp crack split the air. Lucy screamed and crumpled to the ground, clutching her hand as pain tore through her.

Valerie looked down at her, lips curved into a faint, unsettling smile. "Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?"

The other servants froze where they stood.

The timid, obedient girl they had bullied for years was gone—replaced by someone terrifyingly calm.

Lucy, shaking with pain and rage, spat through clenched teeth, "You backwoods brat, you think you can—"

Valerie cut her off with a slap.

The slap landed with brutal force, knocking out several teeth. Lucy collapsed, convulsing on the ground.

Valerie lifted her gaze and swept it across the staff like a drawn blade. "Listen carefully, I am the rightful heiress of this family. Paulina has been standing where she doesn't belong. If any of you dare disrespect me again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Her presence alone was enough to crush resistance. The servants trembled, nodding frantically, fear written plainly across their faces.

No one dared to stop her as she walked into the house.

Inside, the Todd family was seated comfortably at the dinner table.

Kayden Harper, her fiance, was carefully cutting a piece of steak for Paulina Todd, the adopted daughter.

To any outsider, it would have looked like they were the engaged couple.

Valerie smiled faintly. "Well, everyone's eating. Yet no one thought to ask whether I've eaten too?"

The laughter died on the spot.

Every face turned toward her in shock, as though they were seeing someone who shouldn't exist.

To the Todds, Valerie had always been invisible. Whether she ate or starved, lived or died... it had never mattered.

In this house, even Paulina's pampered little poodle held a higher place than Valerie did.

Valerie's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. Ignoring their stunned stares, she pulled out a chair and sat down with unbothered ease.

She reached across the table, picked up a piece of steak, and tossed it onto Paulina's plate.

"Cut it for me," she said coolly. "I'm hungry."

Valerie's mother, Eunice Todd, let out a sharp, disbelieving scoff, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Valerie with a pointed stare. "Valerie, why are you asking Paulina to cut the steak? Surely, you can handle this on your own."

Valerie turned her gaze on her mother, eyebrow arched in a deliberate challenge. "I can do it myself, but Paulina made my fiance cut her steak. Isn't it only fair that she do it for me?"

The living room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

Valerie—once the picture of obedience, the perfect, quiet daughter—had become sharp, unyielding, and unbearably audacious.

She had even dared to speak back to the one person she had always revered most, in front of the entire family.

Yes, Valerie dared.

She was not the original girl who clung to family ties with unthinking loyalty.

The original girl's obedience had been carefully sculpted by lies.

The Todd family had spun a story that Eunice had donated bone marrow to her, saving her life from leukemia.

But Phantom—Valerie's current inhabitant—was no stranger to medicine.

She could tell that this body had never suffered leukemia.

The supposed donation was a fabrication. Eunice had never lifted a finger for her child.

The truth was far crueler: the original Valerie had been sick and comatose in a hospital without a guardian.

The hospital and police, searching for kin, had matched DNA to the Todd family.

Eunice, as the mother, had never truly cared; she had merely sent the housekeeper to collect Valerie.

Now, Eunice's carefully constructed world of respect and control cracked. She had not expected Valerie to argue back so bluntly and paint Paulina as a shameless woman seducing her sister's fiance. Her face darkened, a storm breaking just behind her eyes.

Paulina, looking every bit the picture of wounded innocence, chimed in, "Valerie, don't be jealous. Last night, you disappeared from the hotel, and I searched for you all night, catching a cold and a fever in the process. Kayden was only taking care of me for your sake. Don't be mad at him."

She threw a glance at Valerie, sharp with subtle provocation, before turning to Kayden with a look of calculated grievance. "Kayden, don't blame Valerie for staying out. She didn't do it on purpose."

Prompted, Kayden's brow furrowed. "Valerie! Where did you go last night? How could you stay out all night? As my fiancee, don't you understand the importance of decorum and rules?"

Valerie's eyes cut through him, ice meeting fire. Her words dripped with scorn. "Speaking of decorum, do you think it's right to flirt with my sister right under my nose? You're shameless, serving Paulina so meticulously while pretending nothing is wrong."

A shadow passed over Kayden's face, dark and unyielding.

Eunice's patience snapped, replaced with venom. "Valerie, you went out all night with some man. And when you came home, you insulted Paulina and humiliated Kayden. If I had known you'd turn into such a disgrace, I never would have brought you back from the countryside."

Valerie's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "A disgrace? Are you blind? Can't you see Kayden and Paulina flirting with each other? Or have you grown so accustomed to your husband's affairs that you want me to feel the same pain?"

Eunice's face contorted with rage, her hands trembling with the weight of her own shame. "Shut up! What nonsense! How could I give birth to someone like you? Paulina is far superior to you. You came home stealing, plagiarizing designs—despicable in every way!"

"Enough!" Valerie's father, Jason Todd, who had remained a silent observer until now, finally spoke, his voice carrying authority and exasperation. "Staying out all night once is no crime, but slandering Paulina is intolerable. Go to your room immediately. Confinement is the only option, or I will enforce punishment."

The punishment was harsh—whipping.

The memory lingered like a shadow. When the original Valerie had first been brought back, Paulina had accused her of stealing jewelry.

Jason's lashes had fallen five times, nearly killing her as she had just been discharged from the hospital.

Paulina's eyes glimmered with secret triumph. So what if Valerie had a sharp tongue today? She was still powerless.

The more uproar, the better. Perhaps, she could finally drive Valerie out of the Todd family.

Feigning concern, Paulina stepped forward, grasping Valerie's hand. "Valerie, don't be angry. Mom and Kayden only advised you out of care. How could you speak back to them?"

Her grip, however, betrayed her—fingers pressing into Valerie's skin, nails sharp with hidden malice.

"We understand you wanted freedom, but you were gone all night. We worried for you. A woman's reputation is everything—you can't let your personal whims tarnish the Todd family's name," Paulina continued, her words a poisoned caress, painting Valerie as reckless and frivolous.

Valerie yanked her hand free, her stare freezing the air.

Before Paulina could continue, Valerie's palm shot out, connecting with her face in a crisp, undeniable slap that echoed through the tense room.

"You bitch! Stop pretending to care about me," Valerie spat, voice ringing with accusation and rage. "I didn't stay out because I wanted to—you gave me an aphrodisiac and sent me to that old man from Wade family."

The words fell like shards of ice across the living room, freezing the air in a suffocating silence. Valerie's accusation struck with the force of a hammer.

The old man from the Wade family—a name whispered with disgust among the elite—was infamous for his depravity. His sexual dysfunction had birthed a penchant for cruelty and sadistic indulgence, leaving countless girls broken in his wake.

And yet, Paulina had actually handed Valerie over to that monster.

For the first time, Paulina forgot to maintain her pitiful and wronged persona, staring at Valerie in pure terror.

What was wrong with her?

Being sent to that lecherous old man, nearly getting raped—it was the sort of shame that could twist the stomach.

Shouldn't Valerie have kept it a secret? How could she blurt it out right in front of everyone?

Reacting quickly, Paulina clutched her burning cheek, tears pooling in her eyes. "Valerie, even if you're angry with me, you can't accuse me like that! I don't even know anyone from the Wade family. You're slandering me!"

Kayden lunged forward without a second thought, sheltering Paulina behind him. Rage painted his features, and he bellowed, "Valerie! You're a disgusting, unwanted freak! Who in their right mind would even think of drugging you? If you've got grievances, take them out on me. Leave Paulina alone!"

Eunice's voice rang out, incredulous and sharp. "I don't believe it! Paulina would never be so cruel!"

Jason even fetched the whip, snapping it sharply through the tense air. "Valerie! Get down on your knees!"

Valerie's gaze swept the room, her lips curving in a cold, mirthless smile. "Unbelievable! My parents and my fiance... none of you believes me. Everyone's too busy protecting Paulina, the adopted daughter. Without the DNA test, I'd have thought I was the adopted one."

Then she fixed Jason with a smirk sharp enough to cut steel. "You old fool! Do you remember what your medical report said? That you're impotent? I'm your only true descendant. And here you are, shielding Paulina."

The room's atmosphere fractured. Faces twisted, mouths half-opened in stunned disbelief.

"Valerie! How dare you!" Jason's face flushed violently, then drained of color as he stared at Valerie. A murderous glare burned in his eyes, yet beneath it, terror lurked like a cold, gnawing shadow.

His secret, the one he had guarded so carefully, had been exposed. How had Valerie found out?

Of course, he had no idea that, since her return, Valerie had found a computer, tapped into the Todd family's database with surgical precision, and unearthed every secret the family had ever tried to bury.

"Don't get so worked up," Valerie said, her voice deliberately slow, dripping with disdainful calm. "Think about this clearly. You're protecting Paulina now, planning to hand her the entire Todd fortune in the future. Do you honestly believe she'll be grateful? Her real parents aren't dead. When they come looking, shedding a tear or two, the fortune you've guarded your entire life will belong to them."

Paulina, who had moments ago worn the smugness of a spectator, froze.

Jason, too, felt the chill of realization seep into his blood.

Valerie had shattered his pride, but her words struck a nerve—irrefutable and precise.

Paulina had been raised in the Todd family, more attractive, more refined than Valerie. She made Jason look good in public, captured Kayden's heart, and secured ties to the Harper family. Yet at the end of the day, she was not a Todd by blood. She had her own parents.

Jason's hesitation was visible. Paulina's eyes blazed with fury. Valerie had targeted the very core of his fear.

How had Valerie grown so cunning? How could Valerie, with a few precise words, drive a wedge straight between her and Jason?

Paulina stepped forward, tugging at Jason's arm, her voice sweet like honey. "Dad, I'll never acknowledge others as my parents. I belong to the Todd family. I'll take care of you and Mom when you grow old."

Jason's features softened slightly.

Valerie's tone, laced with acidic sarcasm, cut through the temporary calm. "Sweet words are easy. But when your real parents come looking for you, who's to say you won't scheme with them just to claim the Todd fortune? Old fool, I may be rude, but I would never harm you. Sending Paulina away is far safer."

Jason wavered again. A flicker of willingness to consider her words shone faintly in his eyes.

Paulina's complexion drained to white, her eyes darting to Kayden, silently begging him to intervene.

"Valerie, enough! Paulina has always been kind-hearted. She would never harm the Todds. I'll vouch for her!"

Kayden immediately stood up for Paulina upon seeing her pleading look.

Paulina's shoulders sagged, and a shaky breath escaped her lips, as if a storm of dread had just been blown away.

Kayden was the scion of the most illustrious aristocratic family in the land. His uncle, Leland, was the President. His guarantee carried significant weight, enough to put Jason at ease.

But the next second, Valerie's voice, sharp and venomous, cut through the air again.

"How impressive! But this is family business. If the Todd family goes bankrupt, will the Harper family cover all the losses?"