Kicked Out by a Mean Family Only to Become a Billionaire Heiress Free Preview

In the study of the Vale Estate, the TV was on the hottest entertainment news channel. The anchor blared, "Next up, a scandal straight out of Mingdale. The Vale family's adopted daughter seduced her sister's fiancé. It was topping Twitter today. Netizens are calling her shameless..."

Leonard Vale took a deep breath, shut off the screen via remote, and turned to the girl across from him. She was his adopted daughter, Seraphina Vale, the very "shameless"mentioned in the news.

"Whether it's true or not, rumors like this can't be ignored. You can't stay in this house anymore. Your biological parents have been just found anyway, and they'll be here to take you soon." His voice was uncharacteristically firm and final.

Half a year ago, Seraphina had painted a piece titled Spring Banquet in Autumn's Twilight on a whim. It ended up going viral among the elite circles of Mingdale, with everyone raving about her extraordinary talent. None of them knew her full name, only that she was the Vale heiress.

The matriarch of the old-money Roth family from Valedawn, even came to Mingdale to pay a visit.

She wanted to meet the young genius artist and hoped to introduce her son—maybe they'd be a good match and could meet to see how things went.

Seeing an opportunity, Miranda Vale made a calculated move. She had her biological daughter, Lyanna Vale, pose as the artist, publicly claiming Spring Banquet in Autumn's Twilight was Lyanna's work. That way, the match with Damian Roth, heir to the Roth family, could proceed smoothly.

Afterward, Miranda warned Seraphina to stay quiet, calling it her way of repaying the Vales for raising her.

Leonard, who had long admired Seraphina's talent, had always treated her well. But when it came to securing the family's future—especially helping his real daughter marry into power—he agreed to Miranda's plan. He even started quietly searching for Seraphina's biological family.

Several people had come to the house for DNA testing, but nothing had panned out.

Feeling guilty, Miranda arranged for a pair of fake parents to take Seraphina away, eager to get rid of her as quickly as possible.

Leonard placed a wad of cash on the table in front of her. "This is ten thousand. Take it. Consider it our last gesture of goodwill."

According to Miranda, the fake parents were from a remote village on the outskirts—dirt roads, isolated, mostly elderly folks left behind.

It would take over a full day of bumpy bus rides to reach.

Once there, Seraphina would be stuck doing endless farmwork, suffering and struggling. Ten grand was, in their minds, more than generous.

Seraphina lifted her eyes. Her delicate features and crescent-shaped eyes gave her a rare, striking beauty. As she glanced at the cash, her lips curved slightly.

Ten thousand?

She could easily earn hundreds of thousands just by selling a few pills.

This amount? She didn't even care to look at it.

With a lazy flick of her gaze, she looked at Leonard. Her indifference made it seem like she wasn't the one being kicked out.

"No need. If that's all, I'll be going."

She turned and walked out with calm elegance, taking nothing, begging for nothing.

Miranda scowled. "I can't stand that smug attitude! She really thinks she's some kind of heiress. She'll suffer once she leaves this house!"

"Calm down, Mom," Lyanna said gently. "Seraphina's always been gifted. Maybe she's just used to being proud. Let's try to be understanding."

In truth, Lyanna was overjoyed. The video scandal was her doing.

After years of living under the same roof, she'd always been overshadowed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't match Seraphina, who never even had to lift a finger to succeed.

Compared to her, Lyanna felt like a useless nobody.

So she'd made it her mission to drive Seraphina out—to make her life miserable.

And now, she'd succeeded. Time to rub it in.

"I'm going to check on her," she said sweetly, standing up. "You two keep talking."

Once she was gone, Leonard sighed and muttered to his wife, "She did call you 'Mom' for years. Was it really necessary to find such terrible fake parents?"

Miranda scoffed. "Blood still matters, no matter how much you invest. Believe me, she'll turn on you in the end. Being nice to her is just a waste of time."

Seraphina always acted cold and distant, unlike sweet, soft-spoken Lyanna.

"I did this for the good of the family. If Lyanna marries into the Roths and becomes a proper Valedawn socialite, we'll finally earn real status. You, Leonard, will be able to walk around Valedawn like a king."

His eyes lit up briefly before falling into thoughtful silence.

That silence meant agreement.

Seraphina had just reached the front hall and was heading out the door when Lyanna caught up with her, jogging to close the distance. "Seraphina, Damian just proposed to me! I'm sorry for taking your place, but I am the only one real daughter of this family. I'm not trying to show off—I just wanted to apologize."

Her words were saccharine, carefully measured.

She was basically saying, "So what if you painted Spring Banquet in Autumn's Twilight? I have the life you don't."

"Damian said he doesn't care who painted the piece. He will only loves me forever. Don't you think that's true love?"

Seraphina's smile was cool. "If that's true love, then whoever paired you two up really knows how to sort trash."

"What?"

Lyanna blinked, not following.

"Trash and trash bins are made for each other. You two are just gonna stink it out together."

Lyanna froze, stunned by the words.

Miranda happened to walk out and overheard that. She rushed forward in a fury. "How dare you speak like that? You little brat, so nasty, so mean. No wonder your parents ditched you! Nobody wants you!"

"Oh, but you were the ones who kept me here. So you're saying you're a nobody yourself??" Seraphina said casually.

"You—" Miranda raised her hand.

Just as she was about to swing her hand to slap her, Lyanna quickly stepped in, reaching out to block Miranda's hand. "Don't do that, Mom. It's not her fault. It's me. Maybe I'm just so unbearable she's hated me all along."

Miranda got even angrier, shouting, "How dare she hate you!"

She lunged for Seraphina, but Lyanna jumped in to stop her again. Before long, all three of them were tangled together, shoving and struggling. Lyanna was only pretending to be kind. She didn't actually put much effort into holding her mom back. She had another trick up her sleeve.

Suddenly, a loud flutter—the photos spilled onto the floor. They were Lyanna's boudoir photos. Not very explicit, but undeniably seductive. A folded paper was mixed in.

Everyone froze mid-motion. Lyanna was the first to react. She bent down to pick up the paper while feigning curiosity.

After reading it, her eyes went wide. "Seraphina, why would you do this?"

The paper showed that Seraphina was trying to sell those photos to gossip blogs for a huge sum.

Lyanna was playing her part perfectly, thinking to herself, How could this be? Could my sister really be trying to hurt me? She looked sad, innocent, disappointed, and scared.

Seraphina looked at her coolly. Girl, can't you at least come up with a more original setup?

Miranda snatched the paper, scanned it, and instantly lost it. "Seraphina! You're such a piece of crap! You're gonna ruin Lyanna's reputation? No wonder you didn't take the money earlier... You already had your plan in motion!"

Lyanna rushed to gather the photos, pretending to be the kind peacemaker. "Mom, maybe we misunderstood her..."

"Misunderstood? She seduced Damian, and now that her scheme failed, she wants revenge. Selling those photos is her backup plan!

"You really suck, Seraphina!"

Lyanna kept shaking her head, her expression soft and pure. "I don't believe it. That's not who she is. If she really did this, it must be because she's afraid of how hard life will be in the countryside. It's my fault—I should've given her more jewelry and money to take with her."

The staff around them were all visibly moved.

What a kind young lady—gentle, generous, forgiving. She was like an angel.

And Seraphina? With her sharp tongue and cold eyes—clearly a snake.

Side by side, the difference was stark: one was pure light, the other pure venom.

"If there's anything you need, just tell me. I'll make sure you have it," Lyanna said, still playing her role perfectly.

Miranda wiped her eyes. "You're too soft, sweetie. She tried to take your fiancé and ruin your name. You're going to get hurt one day, being so kind."

Miranda turned her anger fully toward Seraphina. "Get out! Leave before I call the police. From this moment on, you're cut off from the Vales for good!"

Lyanna grabbed her mother's arm in a panic. "Mom, even if she doesn't care about us, we can't be heartless. Her family is so poor. As her sister, I should help her."

The house staff were visibly touched.

Such kindness.

Lyanna slipped the bangle off her wrist and placed it into Seraphina's hand. "This was a gift from Damian. Take it. I won't report the photos, and if you ever need money, just come to me."

Seraphina's crescent-shaped eyes shimmered with amusement as she looked at her.

The whole repaying cruelty with kindness act—what a performance.

Terrible acting, but impressively committed. "Don't be shy. Just take it," Lyanna insisted.

Seraphina smiled faintly, her gaze sharp and unreadable.

Even Lyanna could tell she'd been seen through. She shrank back, panicked, and stammered, "Is it not enough? I can go get more!"

Right on cue. Seraphina replied smoothly, "Go ahead."

"What?"

Lyanna froze. She had only meant to put on a show, but now she was stuck in it.

Miranda couldn't take it anymore. She stepped forward, fuming, and pointed a trembling finger. "Don't be greedy! Take the bracelet and get out. Now!"

Seraphina turned the bangle over in her hand, inspecting it lazily. Her lips curled with scorn.

A low-grade knockoff.

So this was what Damian gave as a "token of love"? Was he blind, or did he just not give a d*mn about Lyanna?

Everyone thought Seraphina would greedily accept it. But instead, the next second, she dropped it to the floor and stepped on it.

Gasps echoed through the hall. All eyes were on her foot, crushing the bracelet.

As if she were stomping Lyanna herself.

Miranda snapped out of the shock first, screaming, "What are you doing?! That was a gift! How dare you step on it?"

"Acid-dyed, plastic-infused junk," Seraphina said coolly. "You gonna cherish it forever?"

The crowd erupted. Even Lyanna looked stunned. It seemed she didn't know it was fake either.

Seraphina's lips curved into a taunting smile. "Damian gave you this mass-produced garbage and called it love? Maybe that's all you are to him."

Lyanna panicked. "You're lying! Damian truly loves me."

"Oh?" Seraphina's voice was light. "Then I guess he's just blind. A rich heir who can't tell trash from treasure? That's embarrassing."

Miranda was shaking with rage. "Get out! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Then donate your eyes. That way, you'll never have to."

"You—!"

"Everyone shut up!" Leonard stormed in, shouting over the chaos.

He took a deep breath and glared at Seraphina. "She's older than you. She deserves your respect. Behave yourself. We didn't raise you this way."

Seraphina looked at him, voice calm. "Respect has to be mutual, Mr. Vale. Have you ever respected me?"

Leonard's face turned crimson. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Three of them, and not one could out-talk her.

Miranda seethed, clinging to empty threats. "Go on and be arrogant. Soon enough, you'll be crawling back to us in tears."

She was sure Seraphina had no idea how hard life in the countryside really was.

Soon, the girl would be begging to come back—and when she did, Miranda would make her pay.

Seraphina didn't even glance back. She turned and walked toward the door. Outside, a sleek sports car was parked at the gate.

The carbon fiber body gleamed under the sun, sleek and perfectly contoured from hood to tail.

Black as night, polished like obsidian.

The LED headlights narrowed like the eyes of a hawk. Six exhaust pipes gleamed at the rear.

Everything about it stood out. The car wasn't just expensive—it was rare, and unmistakably unique.

The driver's side door opened, and an elderly man with silver hair stepped out. He paused when he saw her, then hesitated.

"Seraphina?"

She gave a slight nod.

"Good day, Miss. Allow me to introduce myself—I'm Jack, the butler of the Drayven family. I've been sent to escort you home."

She returned the greeting politely, showing respect for his age.

Meanwhile, her mind raced. This car was a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, the most expensive supercar in the world. Price tag: $12 million.

But even if you had the money, it wouldn't matter—there was only one in existence, and it was already owned.

For years, people had speculated, Who owns that car? Who was powerful enough to buy it?

Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "Home?"

Jack caught on quickly and explained, "Three months ago, someone from the Drayven family came to the Vales for DNA testing. Unfortunately, the lab made an error in the results. Mr. Drayven was furious. He shut the entire facility down and ordered tests from three separate certified agencies. The correct report just arrived. We haven't had time to inform the Vales yet."

So her real family had the power to shut down a DNA lab on a whim... And they owned the only Bugatti La Voiture Noire in existence?

But Miranda had said her "real family" lived in some rundown village in the middle of nowhere.

Seraphina asked, "Where exactly is your family located?"

"Azuregate, Valedawn," Jack replied at once.

Valedawn—capital of the country, global financial hub. Divided into four districts: Azuregate, Wynrow, Rosden, and Umberfell.

Azuregate ruled over the rest.

Damian was the heir to the Roth family, the wealthiest in Umberfell. The Vales had treated the Roths like gods—groveling just to secure a marriage tie.

As far as they were concerned, marrying into the Roths meant stepping into Valedawn's elite circles.

And now Seraphina understood why Miranda had been in such a rush. She had been terrified that Seraphina's presence would ruin everything with the Roths.

So she'd tried to get rid of her before the truth could come out.

"Miss, please—this way." Jack opened the passenger door with care. Seraphina didn't like having an elderly man serve her. She gently supported his arm and declined respectfully.

"No need, Jack. I can manage."

Their brief exchange was spotted by Lyanna, who had just come outside. A servant mentioned that someone had come to pick Seraphina up.

She didn't believe it. The fake parents supposedly lived in some backward mountain village—no way they had a car, much less this.

Had Seraphina hired someone to keep up appearances? And an old man at that?

What, was she selling herself now?

Disgusting.

She had to tell her parents immediately. They needed to see the joke Seraphina had become.

When Miranda contacted the fake parents, she quickly confirmed—no one was actually coming to pick Seraphina up.

So it was true. Seraphina had hired actors to put on a show.

Miranda couldn't believe anyone could be this pathetic, faking a send-off just to save face.

Still, it suited her just fine. Whoever they were didn't matter. As long as they came to take Seraphina away, that was good enough for her.

She didn't bother watching the spectacle. Instead, she told Leonard not to expose the charade. Just go through the motions, walk her out, and use this as a clean excuse to finally get that unwanted daughter out of the house.

Outside the gate, Jack noticed Leonard and Lyanna walking out. He quickly stepped back to the car, retrieved a folder, and approached.

The documents inside had been handwritten and stamped by Mr. Drayven himself. He was a master of calligraphy. Everything he wrote turned out to be a masterpiece. He hadn't touched a brush in years, but had made an exception for the sake of his daughter.

The Vale family deserved the gesture—after all, they had raised her for nearly twenty years.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Vale." Jack greeted Leonard politely, handing over the folder. "I'm the butler of the Drayven family. I've come to take Miss Vale home. This is a small token of appreciation from the family. We hope you'll accept it."

The Drayvens. Right, Drayven should be her fake dad's surname.

And this so-called gift? What a joke—it looked like a letter, at best.

Leonard figured it made sense. When you're hiring actors, you don't hand over gold and diamonds. But still... at least buy a couple of decent gift boxes to keep up appearances.

Wasn't this level of stinginess just embarrassing?

"You're too kind. Seraphina brought us so much joy over the years. A gift really isn't necessary," Leonard said, waving it off.

"We insist, sir. Please."

"No, no, really, I mean it."

While the two of them exchanged polite refusals, Lyanna tried to hide a mocking smirk. Curiosity got the better of her.

"What is it? A thank-you note?"

"There is a letter of thanks," Jack replied, "along with a handwritten piece by Mr. Drayven himself. It's invaluable. And—"

"That's quite alright! We don't need that! Rain's expected later today. To avoid slippery roads, it's best to get going sooner rather than later." Leonard cut in sharply, the moment he heard the words invaluable. He considered it absurd lie and was getting impatient.

What a load of nonsense. A hired actor pretending to be rich, pulling this kind of stunt in front of him?

Did they really think he was an idiot?

As if some fake heirloom or calligraphy piece could be "invaluable." He glanced at the rented car again. It wasn't even a real luxury vehicle.

He'd seen enough Rolls-Royces, Bentleys, and Bugattis in his life to know—this wasn't one of them. The logo vaguely resembled Bugatti's, but the car itself? Total knockoff. Probably a modified model just for the show.

"Seraphina." Leonard's tone was warm on the surface, but his intent was crystal clear. "Safe travels. Don't worry about us. You can always video call if you miss us."

Then he turned to Jack with forced politeness.

"It's getting late, and I'm sure your family's eager to see their daughter. We won't keep you. Drive safe."

Jack could hear the subtext, but still tried to hand over the folder one last time. "Sir, please accept this, even just as a gesture—"

Leonard waved him off with a tight smile and stormed back toward the house. Lyanna followed with a triumphant little giggle. As she walked through the gate, she even hummed a tune, thrilled to have caught Seraphina's embarrassing act red-handed.

Jack stood there, baffled, watching the pair disappear.

Did the Drayven intelligence team get it wrong?

Their report said Leonard had been pulling every string he could to gain permanent residency in Valedawn. Mr. Drayven had personally written a referral letter to help with the process—it was supposed to guarantee approval.

So why reject it now? Seraphina picked up the folder and opened it. A few pages slipped out.

She glanced down. "This calligraphy was done by Mr. Drayven. Ink's still fresh. Must've been written recently."

A single piece like this could easily go for millions at auction.

Jack was stunned. Mr. Drayven hadn't written a word in nearly two decades, and Seraphina had recognized it at just a glance.

He looked at the girl more closely and realized—she radiated a kind of innate elegance. There was something regal and untouchable about her. A natural-born Drayven.

Every movement, every breath—remarkable.

She kept the calligraphy and the letter of thanks. Then she called over one of the house staff at the gate and handed him the referral letter.

"Give this to Mr. Vale," she said.

Leonard had worked half his life to save enough to move from Mingdale to Valedawn. He had nearly drunk himself sick trying to secure a residency.

Overall, he was not too bad on her.

This letter would even the score. From now on, they owed each other nothing.

Back inside, Lyanna ran into the house staff, noticed the paper in his hand, and snatched it up.

Her eyes widened. "Mom—this letter, does this mean he can really get residency in Valedawn?"

Miranda took it, glanced over, then scoffed.

"No way. It's obviously a scam. Your dad has begged half the city and still hit dead ends. You think one letter solves that? Ridiculous."

"...Still, Mom, maybe just show it to him? Just in case?"

Miranda, arrogant and ignorant as ever, rolled her eyes.

"Lyanna, don't be fooled by that girl. If a single letter could get someone permanent residency in Valedawn, the person who wrote it would have to be—what—some kind of god?

"I just talked to your dad. She didn't even bother renting a decent car. It looked like a cheap knockoff Bugatti. Your dad said he's never seen a real one like that. It's fake, just like everything else about her. That girl's born to be poor. Stay away from her, and don't you dare lend her money.

"Lend her money, and you'll never see it again."

She thought of Seraphina's pathetic little exit and laughed with satisfaction, then tore the letter in half and tossed it in the trash.

Lyanna nodded in agreement, smirking coldly.

As if Seraphina had that kind of power. Please. Good thing Mom saw through the act.

In the car, Jack pressed a button, reclining the rear seats. A small table popped up, topped with fruit and floral tea.

"It's a long drive, Miss Vale. Please help yourself."

"Thanks, Jack." Seraphina smiled politely. "Would it be alright if I visited a friend before heading home?"

Jack looked startled but quickly replied, "Of course, Miss. What's the address?"

"Draycroft Medical Academy."

Draycroft was the most prestigious medical academy in Valedawn, located beside Draycroft Hospital, the top-ranked medical institution in the city. Only the wealthy or powerful could afford treatment there.

She was visiting Alaric Sable, the academy's visiting professor and also the hospital's director.

He'd been asking to see her for weeks, but she hadn't had time until now. He was probably sulking. Good thing she'd brought a gift to cheer him up.

"Your friend's a student there?" Jack asked casually.

"No," Seraphina replied, her tone relaxed. "He's a professor—Alaric Sable."

Jack nearly swerved off the road.

Alaric? Alaric Sable? Even Mr. Drayven treated that man with utmost respect.

Jack glanced at Seraphina in the rearview mirror, completely speechless.

At the faculty building of Draycroft Medical Academy, Alaric glanced up just as a familiar figure stepped into his office. He crossed his arms and dramatically turned his head to the side in a huff.

The message was clear. "I'm mad. Come make it up to me."

Seraphina didn't bat an eye. One hand in her pocket, she strolled over to his desk, calm and unhurried. From her coat, she pulled out a small black vial and tossed it onto his desk.

Alaric gave it a glance, then gave a petulant snort and kept looking away, pretending to ignore it.

Seraphina smirked. She mentally counted, one, two... She didn't even get to three.

Alaric bolted upright, knocking his chair into the wall as he lunged for the bottle. When he saw what was inside, he couldn't contain his glee.

"Holy hell, Seraphina! You actually got your hands on this?!"

Inside the vial was a legendary medicine mentioned only in ancient texts—Voidflame Pill.

It was said to be made from Voidflame Herb, a plant that grew only in deadly cold, shadow-soaked regions. It took three years to sprout, ten years to mature. A single one of these herbs was worth tens of millions.

And even then, money wasn't enough to secure one.

Every time one hit the black market, it sparked a ruthless war. Getting it required serious power and connections.

Seraphina sighed and rubbed her temples. "Watch your language."

For someone his age, he really needed to stop copying slang from the interns.

Alaric just grinned, taking the pill out and holding it under his nose like it was the elixir of life.

"You're not mad anymore, right?" she asked, one brow raised.

Alaric turned red, trying to hide his excitement.

"Me? Mad? What are you talking about? I wasn't mad. I'm not a child."

She could practically hear the sound of him smacking himself with his own words—but she let it slide.

She watched as he carefully locked the vial in his safe, muttering to himself.

"Gotta hide it well. Last time you gave me a Aethercore Pill, Cornelius took it away. Nearly killed me."

Then he whipped out his phone and snapped a picture of Seraphina, sending it via WhatsApp to Cornelius Hart with a smug voice message.

"Hey, guess who I just saw? That's right—Seraphina. She gave me another pill. Eat your heart out!"

Seraphina scratched her head, already seeing the swarm of messages she'd be getting later. Cornelius could be exhausting.

"Seraphina, have you finally considered coming to work at Draycroft Hospital?" Alaric said, jumping at the chance.

"I'll make you Vice Director. Hell, take my job. Be Director."

That way he could finally retire, travel, and rub it in the other professors' faces.

Every single one of them wanted Seraphina to join their team. Not one had succeeded.

She shook her head lazily. "I'm still in school." She hadn't even graduated college yet. No rush to find a job.

Alaric groaned at her answer, though he'd seen it coming.

He'd studied traditional medicine since childhood. People called him a once-in-a-generation genius, gifted by the heavens.

Until he met Seraphina.

That's when he learned the difference between being "gifted" and being fed by the gods themselves.

There was just no comparison.

He remembered a time when a child came in with a severe, stubborn cough. Alaric had thrown everything he knew at it, but the kid only got worse.

Then Seraphina happened to stop by.

She pulled out a set of silver spires, gave a few precise taps, and just like that, the coughing stopped.

From that day on, Alaric never questioned her again. They became friends—and colleagues, at least in his eyes.

Whenever he faced a complicated case, he'd ask her for input. Of course, she didn't always reply. He'd once asked her why.

Her answer? "You're never too old to keep learning."

Ouch.

"It's getting late. I should go," Seraphina said, checking her phone as she turned toward the door.

She still had a family meeting to attend—and a mystery father to meet.

Alaric was reluctant to let her go. He'd wanted to chat more about treatment techniques. But he knew her too well. She was independent, always had a mind of her own. If she was in a hurry, it meant she had something important to do.

He sighed. "Fine. But you better come see me again soon."

"I will!"

She left his office and headed downstairs.

As she exited the medical academy and turned a corner by the main academic building, her peripheral vision caught a group of people in white coats huddled together.

The embroidered patches on their chests read Draycroft Hospital.

They were whispering urgently, visibly tense.

"Professor Kael, what do we do? The patient's condition is getting worse. We need a decision now," said one of the senior attending doctors.

"What? I thought we already did a corrective surgery," Theodore Kael said.

"Apparently it didn't work. The second operation mistakenly reconstructed the atria as a single chamber. Now there are all kinds of complications..."

"Shh! Stop talking," a female doctor snapped. "If you don't say anything, and I don't say anything, who's going to know?"

The male doctor was on edge. "No one will know, sure. But if we delay any longer, that boy won't survive the night."

"Then that's just his fate."

"What if someone higher up investigates?"

"He only has his mom with him. No dad in the picture. No influential relatives. She's not going to cause any trouble."

One of the nurses chimed in, "She's already spent over a hundred grand trying to save him. If he dies, she'll definitely come after us."

Theodore finally spoke. His expression was dark, his words razor-sharp.

"If it comes to that, we stick to one story—he already had a single atrium before the second surgery."

The female doctor's eyes lit up. "Right! That first operation was done by Director Sable. It was rushed, and I heard no one assisted him. There's no one to back him up."

Seraphina's expression turned cold.

They were trying to frame Alaric?

Theodore's lips curled into a cruel smile.

He'd had it out for Alaric for years. They were both professors, so why was Alaric the one in charge, calling the shots from behind the scenes, while he was still sweating it out in the OR?

Now, by some twisted stroke of fate, he might finally have a way to take that old man down.

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, a frosty glint flashing across her gaze.

This wasn't just a medical mistake. This was a setup. And Alaric was their target.

The group exchanged glances, wordlessly coming to a silent agreement.

They turned and took the service elevator used for medical waste disposal.

Seraphina, lacking biometric clearance, couldn't access it. She stood near the doors, watching as the elevator stopped at the 23rd floor.

A faint shadow crossed her moonlit eyes.

She turned, followed the signs into the inpatient ward, and took a different elevator straight to the 23rd floor.

In the cardiovascular surgery wing, a young nurse had summoned a middle-aged woman who stood nervously before Theodore, her eyes filled with desperate hope.

Theodore cleared his throat and spoke sternly, "The patient's condition doesn't support a fourth surgery. You should begin the discharge process."

Boom.

It was like a wrecking ball had torn through the woman's chest. Her heart plummeted into a cold, endless abyss.

She stood frozen, eyes empty. Then, suddenly snapping back to reality, she grabbed Theodore's hand, pleading, "Doctor Kael, please! Please! He's only ten years old... you can't let him die..."

The boy had already endured three heart surgeries. None had cured him. His condition had worsened, leaving him in critical condition.

The family had borrowed and spent over a hundred thousand dollars. The child hadn't regained consciousness since.

"We'll find the money—I'll borrow more. Just don't give up on him!" she begged, broken and exhausted.

Theodore yanked his hand free. His voice was cold. "We've done all we can. Start the discharge paperwork."

Seraphina, watching nearby with a blank expression, finally spoke, "Discharging him is a death sentence."

Heads turned toward the voice.

A girl in her early twenties stood a short distance away. Delicate features, obsidian eyes that shimmered with a glacial edge—every part of her presence exuded quiet, piercing clarity.

Right when the situation was about to be swept under the rug, a wrench had been thrown into their plan.

"What do you know, kid?" the nurse snapped. "Keeping him hooked up to machines costs a fortune. Sometimes, it's better to go home."

"You mean, go home and wait to die?" Seraphina frowned.

They had already spent over a hundred grand. Now they wanted to discharge the boy under the excuse of "no viable treatment"—all in the name of compassion for the family?

Where was that concern before?

"You—" the nurse turned red with anger.

Theodore tried to soften the tension, "The patient's condition isn't promising. If we had a guaranteed path forward, we'd take it. But forcing another operation now could do more harm than good."

Either way, the boy wouldn't survive. So why waste more resources?

Besides, if the kid died in surgery, and anyone started asking questions... things could get messy.

"Can't own up to your incompetence?" Seraphina said lazily, her voice cool. "This should've been resolved in two surgeries. You dragged it out to four. What a joke."

Gasps filled the room. Everyone stared at the young woman in disbelief.

Theodore had planned to ignore her—just another outsider stirring up trouble.

But her words struck like lightning. His eyes flickered with panic, a detail Seraphina didn't miss.

The boy's first surgery had gone incredibly well.

Alaric had been the lead surgeon. He performed a temporary closure, planning to do the final sutures after observing the recovery.

For the second operation, Alaric had assigned Theodore. It was a routine procedure—basic debridement and stitching.

But Theodore had been jealous. Sick of being ordered around by him, he decided to do things his way.

He had unilaterally altered the boy's heart—fusing the atria into a single chamber.

And it had gone horribly wrong.

"You know medicine?" the male doctor asked, stunned.

"Is the fourth surgery really necessary?" another nurse asked, confused.

Leaning casually against the wall, Seraphina straightened and looked at the woman with quiet intensity.

"If no corrective procedure is done, he won't survive."

The woman bowed, begging with all she had. "Please... please... you're doctors... please save my son..."

Her voice cracked, echoing down the hallway. People started gathering.

Theodore, growing agitated, snapped, "What's going on? Don't listen to a kid babbling nonsense."

He barked at the mother, "Get the discharge forms signed. Don't interfere with hospital operations."

Celina Hargrove motioned to the nurses to pull the woman away. Security staff began crowd control.

"This is criminal neglect," Seraphina said coldly.

Power, unchallenged, crushes the weak.

People in positions of influence, with a few years of clinical training, deceived their superiors and dismissed the lives of ordinary citizens.

Where was their conscience? Murmurs rippled through the staff.

"Miss, if you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police!" Celina snapped. "Spreading dangerous rumors—what are you trying to pull?"

They were so close to pushing the family into discharge. And now this girl had shown up and ruined everything.

"You idiot," Seraphina shot back without hesitation.

She stepped toward the mother and whispered, "Who helped you get your son into this hospital? Call them."

Draycroft Hospital wasn't open to just anyone. It served the elite, with the best equipment and surgeons in Valedawn.

If this woman had been able to admit her son here, someone powerful had made it happen.

That person could help them now.

The woman hesitated, then shoved away the nurses and ran to make a call.

Back in the ward, Celina's face twisted with rage. "Who do you think you're calling an idiot?"

Seraphina gave her a withering look. "Take a wild guess."

"How dare you!"

"Not as bold as you, ignoring complications, covering up mistakes, letting patients die."

Seeing things spiral out of control, Theodore pulled Celina aside and hissed, "Celina. Stop arguing with her. Get back to work."

Getting the family to sign the discharge papers was priority number one.

As long as the kid didn't die here, and the family didn't push back, he'd stay out of trouble.

Celina protested, "She called me an idiot!"

She was one of his top students. People in the hospital walked on eggshells around her.

Now this random girl had insulted her in front of everyone?

Theodore frowned and coughed, "Let it go, Celina. Don't act like a child, okay?"

Celina refused to back down. Her pride was wounded. "Apologize!"

"You're not worth it."

"You—"

Seraphina raised a brow, her tone still lazy. "You're a senior cardiothoracic attending, and you can't handle a basic cardiac closure? Calling you an idiot might actually be generous."

Celina let out a frustrated shriek, heels clicking furiously. "You think you're better than me? I admit I can't do it—what about you? Can you?"

Theodore, who'd been trying to keep the peace, froze. That line sparked something dark in him.

His eyes narrowed with calculation.

He adjusted his tie, put on a warm smile, and stepped forward. "Miss, you clearly have insight into this case. Tell us—what would you do next?"

Seraphina could smell the trap forming.

She smiled slightly. "Another surgery. There's no other option."

Celina tried to interrupt, outraged.

"You're really going to listen to her? She's bluffing—"

Theodore pulled her aside and muttered, "She's volunteering to take the fall. Why not let her?"

"...You mean, let her operate, and take the blame?"

Theodore nodded.

Celina hesitated. "But what if she doesn't agree to operate?"

"Push her."

Celina strutted back toward Seraphina and sneered. "Surgery? Do you have any idea how complex this procedure is? You talk big, but can you back it up?"

Seraphina didn't react. She already knew where this was going.

Sure enough, Celina pressed on, "I'll admit I'm incompetent. So what about you? Dare to step up?"

Such a poor excuse for manipulation.

Even Lyanna could've done better. Still, Seraphina said nothing.

Celina grew agitated. "What, nothing to say? Getting scared now?"

The crowd began murmuring. Most assumed the girl would back off. She was smart enough not to get dragged into this.

Theodore clenched his fists, watching closely.

Then Seraphina said coolly, "Who says I'm scared?"

Theodore's eyes lit up.

Celina beamed, too, and kept digging. "Alright. If the surgery goes well, I'll do whatever you say. But if you fail, don't cry when you're arrested!"

Theodore quickly stepped in, worried the mention of jail might spook her.

"Celina, there's no way she's getting arrested!"

Then he wore a dignified smile and looked at Seraphina. "Sorry for my rudeness earlier. You're a doctor too, right? You seem really confident. You must be good at the surgery like that. So let's not waste any time and get start right now!"

He kept up a polite face, but inside he was smirking, thinking, "Let’s see how you get out of this one, brat. Prison's waiting!"

Seraphina just let out a cold laugh and said...