Marissa rolled the window down a little, letting the cool breeze brush against her face. Just then, a blue Bugatti sped past—a car so rare and expensive it made heads turn even in this upscale area.

Their black sedan continued through the elegant villa district, where luxurious homes lined the lakeside, each one more impressive than the last.

When the car stopped in front of two neighboring villas, Marissa noticed five men waiting outside. All of them were good-looking, their eyes lighting up the moment they saw her.

"Marissa, welcome home."

The greeting came in perfect unison, warm and full of excitement.

One of the men stepped forward with a welcoming smile and began introducing them one by one. "This is your eldest brother, Marc Curtis. Next is Zachary, your second brother. Then there's Danny, your third brother, and Timothy, your fourth. And as for me," he added with a light grin, "I'm your fifth brother, Andrew."

"Marissa, welcome back home." Marc spread his arms wide, his expression gentle and affectionate.

Before she could respond, Andrew jumped in, wrapping her in a hug. "Hey! I saw her first! The first hug should be mine!"

Marc laughed and shook his head, lowering his arms good-naturedly. Then, his eyes moved past Andrew and landed on Theodore, who had just stepped out of the car. "It's been a while, Theodore," Marc greeted, walking over.

The scene was filled with cheerful energy and warmth, the Curtis brothers happily crowding around their sister. In contrast, Theodore stood quietly to the side, calm and detached, as if the lively atmosphere had nothing to do with him.

"Must've been about half a year since we last met, huh?" Marc said, noticing Theodore's reserved expression. Could it be that Theodore had not said a single word to Marissa during their drive here?

"Marc! Enough small talk!" Andrew interrupted. "The most important thing today is that our sister's finally home! Come on, let's go inside."

Theodore didn't follow them. "I have some matters to take care of," he said simply. "Now that she's here safely, I'll be heading out."

Marc frowned but didn't push further. "Alright then. We'll catch up next time."

Theodore gave a short nod, his eyes flicking briefly toward Marissa. "I'll take my leave now."

Caught off guard, Marissa hesitated, then waved awkwardly. "Oh, okay. Goodbye."

"Come on, Marissa! Mom and Dad are already waiting inside," Andrew said, taking her hand and leading her into the villa.

Just then, a soft, frail voice echoed from inside. "Is... is my daughter back?"

That gentle tone carried both warmth and weakness, followed by a harsh, painful cough that filled the silent hall.

"Quick! Get some water and her medicine!"

The maids, dressed neatly in light brown uniforms, rushed to help, moving quickly and quietly.

Andrew and Marc guided Marissa further into the main hall.

Marc frowned, his tone sharp. "Didn't we agree to wait until we got inside before telling her?"

His words made the butler nearby break into a nervous sweat.

Their mother, Corrine Curtis, took the glass of water from a maid and waved off Marc's concern. Tears glistened in her eyes as she turned her gaze toward Marissa.

The resemblance between her and her sons was unmistakable. The Curtis brothers were undeniably handsome, and their mother's beauty had once been just as breathtaking. In her youth, Corrine had been radiant, like a flower at its peak, and even with the passing years, her charm hadn't faded. There was still a natural grace about her, soft yet dignified, the kind that drew people in effortlessly.

"Marissa!" Corrine's voice trembled, her tears finally spilling over. They rolled down her pale, delicate cheeks as she tried to move the wheelchair herself, too impatient to wait for help.

Marissa stood frozen as the chair slowly came to a stop in front of her.

The air around them seemed to still. Finally, she crouched down, lowering herself to meet the woman's eyes.

Corrine whispered, her voice breaking with emotion, "It's been nineteen years. I've finally found you."

Corrine's eyes were swollen and red as she looked at Marissa, her long-lost child finally standing before her. Her voice trembled, breaking between sobs. "I missed you so much... so, so much, Marissa."

Unable to hold it in any longer, she reached forward and pulled Marissa tightly into her arms.

From the moment Marissa had stepped into the Curtis family's villa, the warmth and affection surrounding her had felt almost foreign. She wasn't used to this kind of welcome. It made her uneasy, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

Within seconds, Corrine's tears had soaked through Marissa's shoulder. Marissa lowered her gaze, feeling a hot sting in her own eyes. She hesitated, then slowly raised her hand and placed it on her mother's back.

That simple gesture made Corrine's heart leap. She cupped Marissa's face and asked softly, "Did the Fletcher family treat you well all these years?"

"They were... strict. But I managed," Marissa replied.

She wasn't good at pretending, and honestly, she saw no reason to lie. There was no point in defending people who had never truly cared for her.

Corrine instantly understood the truth behind those few words, but she was too overwhelmed to respond. Overcome with emotion, she clung to Marissa so tightly that Marissa had to brace herself to stay upright.

"Be careful!"

One of the Curtis brothers called out, ready to help. But before they could move, they saw Marissa easily lift their frail mother and set her gently into the wheelchair.

All five brothers stared in surprise. Who would've guessed their sister was that strong?

Had the Fletcher family really made her do all the heavy lifting and rough chores all these years?

"You're amazing, Marissa," Corrine exclaimed, her voice overflowing with pride and tenderness.

But then, her smile faltered. Her gaze dropped to Marissa's skirt that was torn at the edge, and her expression instantly changed. Tears fell from her eyes, landing on her pale, trembling hand as she gripped the fabric. "Did the Fletcher family do this to you?"

Marissa shook her head. "No."

Though her reply was quiet, Corrine didn't believe it for a second.

A mother's heart knew the truth. There was no warmth in Marissa's tone, no fondness when she spoke of them. The absence of any emotion was proof enough of the coldness she must have endured all these years.

"Marissa, are you upset with me?" Corrine's usually steady voice wavered as she spoke. The woman who had always carried herself with confidence couldn't even lift her eyes to meet her daughter's. "I never meant to leave you back then. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to lose you."

Her words came out broken, carried by the weight of years of regret.

Marissa lowered her head slightly, her gaze meeting Corrine's tearful eyes. After a brief pause, she answered softly, "I know."

Because who in their right mind would ever choose to lose their own child?

"How did you find out I am your daughter?" Marissa asked.

The Fletcher family had described her real family as lowly and despicable, a far cry from the dignity of the powerful Curtis family.

Corrine's eyes shimmered with guilt as she gently took her daughter's hand. "We have Theodore to thank for that," she said tenderly.

"Theodore?" Marissa blinked, surprise flickering in her eyes.

Corrine nodded. "You might not remember, but you and Theodore met once before. He said he saw you at a business event and thought you looked a lot like our family."

"Oh, I see." Marissa's voice carried no particular interest, just mild politeness.

Sensing her disinterest, Corrine quickly shifted the conversation and guided her towards the walk-in closet. "I've had so many clothes and pieces of jewelry prepared for you. After all these years, you finally get to have them."

She had originally planned to give Marissa time to adjust, to let her ease into this new life slowly. But seeing her daughter's torn skirt earlier had made her realize she might have underestimated how much hardship Marissa had endured.

Still, Marissa wasn't one to talk much. Most of Corrine's attempts to engage her had been met with short, almost emotionless replies. It made her hesitate, afraid of pushing too hard.

"Would you like me to stay with you a little while longer?" Corrine asked tentatively. She longed to be near her daughter, but she also didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Marissa was an adult now, and Corrine didn't want to intrude.

Marissa understood what Corrine was thinking. She offered her mother a reassuring smile. "You should rest for a bit. I'll be fine."

Corrine's heart sank for a moment, but when she saw the small gesture of concern behind those words, her disappointment softened into warmth. "Alright. If you need anything at all, just call me."

"Okay." Marissa nodded and helped push her mother's wheelchair out of the walk-in closet.

Once outside, Corrine's expression changed. She turned to Marc, her tone calm but edged with concern. "Marc, why didn't Theodore come back with Marissa?"

Marc calmly explained to Corrine that Theodore had left early because of other obligations. After a pause, he added carefully, "Mom, to be honest, I don't think the Brooks family is that invested in this marriage. There are plenty of respectable young men here in Ozreka who'd be a better match for Rissa. Maybe we should consider someone else?"

Corrine's expression shifted, caught between surprise and confusion. "Theodore isn't happy about the marriage?" she asked. "But didn't the Brooks family say he agreed to it himself?"

The Curtis and Brooks families were bound by a marriage alliance.

When Marissa went missing all those years ago, her stepgrandmother had even tried to replace her with another girl, though Corrine and her husband had fiercely opposed the idea. The Brooks family refused the replacement outright, insisting they would wait until the Curtis family head's daughter was found. Only then could the marriage arrangement be resumed.

Before Corrine could continue, a loud commotion erupted downstairs.

"Where is she? I've never seen someone so shameless! She's barely back home and already causing trouble! I don't recognize her as a Curtis. Who does she think she is? Bring her down here right now!"

Upstairs, inside the cloakroom, Marissa's tone was calm but firm as she spoke into the phone. "I'll treat him on one condition: I choose the venue. Make sure they understand that. That's all. I have something to deal with now, so we'll talk later."

As soon as she hung up, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"Miss Marissa Curtis! Are you inside? Mrs. Rita Curtis and Miss Holley Curtis have arrived! They're waiting to see you downstairs. Please come at once."

The butler's voice rang out, slightly too loud and almost eager.

Marissa didn't rush. She picked up a silver-gray suit jacket, slipped it on, and opened the door.

The butler, who had been smirking to himself a moment ago, froze when she appeared. His confident look faltered into awkwardness as he quickly lowered his head and stepped aside to clear her path.

Marissa didn't bother acknowledging him. Her heels clicked lightly against the floor as she descended the grand staircase.

Just before she could reach the bottom, a disdainful voice rose from below. "So, you're Marissa?"

Marissa's gaze dropped, landing on the older woman lounging confidently on the couch below.

Dressed in lavish jewelry that gleamed under the light, she exuded an air of arrogance and self-importance. It was none other than Rita Curtis.

"Are you deaf?" she sneered. "You see me and can't even say hello?"

Despite all the glittering jewels she was wearing, there wasn't a hint of grace about her, but just pure arrogance.

The warmth Marissa had felt from her mother and brothers only moments ago had started to ease her guard, but Rita's words quickly built those walls back up again.

She remembered the file Theodore had once shown her, the report listing every living member of the Curtis family. She hadn't had time to study it thoroughly, but one name had caught her eye—Rita Curtis, her grandfather Hank Curtis's second wife.

"Raised in such humble surroundings, no wonder you lack proper manners," Rita remarked, her eyes narrowing as Marissa came closer. The faint resemblance Marissa shared with Corrine seemed to fuel her dislike even more.

Next to Rita sat a young woman leaning affectionately against her shoulder—Holley, Marissa's cousin. She tilted her head and, with an innocence that was more mocking than sweet, asked, "Does she really not speak? That's kind of sad."

The scene brought an unpleasant sense of déjà vu to Marissa. The dynamic between Rita and Holley reminded her far too much of Susanna and Evelina.

"Sad? What's sad about her?" Rita scoffed. "Don't waste your pity on her. She's here to take what rightfully belongs to you."