Mirena Sterling always dreamed of being in the spotlight, of loving and being loved in return.

But never did she imagine the universe’s way of putting her in the spotlight , would be like this.

Standing in the center of a luxurious birthday party that should have been hers, Mirena’s mind buzzed, spinning as reporters and journalists shoved microphones and records into her face from all corners.

“Mrs. Ashton, is it true that you're not the Sterling family’s real daughter?”

“Mrs. Ashton, is it true you stole Camille

Sterling’s life all these years? You've been living off her parents' luxury, being the fake heiress of the sterling family?”

“Mrs. Ashton, is it true that Mr. Ashton is divorcing you to be with his true love? The true Heiress of the Sterling family?”

“The Sterling Family has announced that they'd be cutting all ties with you as of this moment, what do you have to say to that?”

From all angles, questions were thrown at Mirena. She parted her lips, but the words, held down by confusion, refused to leave her throat.

What the hell did they mean by she wasn't her parent's daughter?

Twenty years ago, she had been living in an orphanage when the Sterling couple suddenly showed up, claiming they were her real family and she, their only daughter.

They took her in without doing a DNA test despite people insisting.

They were that certain.

So now, to discover that she was not their real daughter—that the girl who'd showed up last week, was their real daughter—was a slap to her face.

And to make matters worse, that girl was her husband's true love?

Five years! She'd been married to him for five years, but in that time, she was only just a name on a paper.

Now that his true love was back, he wanted to divorce her?

Her entire world shifted off balance and she felt like she'd been living a lie all this while.

The reporters voices blurred into background noises as her gaze drifted in the direction of the one man who she expected to defend her, to stand by her, amidst all these;

George Ashton, her husband.

Pain crippled her heart when she saw the tender expression on his face—an expression she'd never seen. And even now, it wasn't directed at her.

Rather, it was directed at the petite brunette clinging to his arm like it was her last lifeline.

Camille Sterling, the real daughter of the Sterling family and her downfall.

Compared to her, in terms of looks, Camille fits perfectly into the role of a Sterling.

Lush brown hair that stopped at waist- length, golden doe eyes that promised the world to whoever stared into it and the demeanor of a sheltered princess clad in luxurious outfits.

While she, with unkempt Honey blonde strands and lifeless Grey eyes, coupled with worn out clothes, looked worse than a maid.

Confusion mingled with insecurity, resulting in an ache in her chest that nearly rendered her speechless.

But she pushed forward. “George, what's going on here? What are they talking about?”

The pain from her heart bled into her steady tone as she spoke and she stopped herself from wincing at her unfamiliar voice.

She barely had time to recover from that when George looked at her and the moment his eyes landed on her, she watched as the warmth in his eyes completely disappeared, gaze frosting over.

But it wasn't the cold look he gave her that made her heart clenched and tears sting the back of her eyes, it was the knowing gaze and the realization that he knew exactly what the reporters were talking about.

“You knew, and you didn't tell me?” Her voice cracked ever so slightly.

“Well, now you know.” His voice was as cold as ice, words felt like icicles thrown directly at her heart.

Each of them brutally made their mark, stabbing her heart.

“Since it's out in the open, there's no need for us to be pretending anymore. You're not the Sterling family’s real daughter and as for our marriage. It's over.”

“Over?” She echoed and took a step forward, too quickly, her movements made her look desperate.

But she didn't care. Everything she'd worked hard to build was crumbling before her eyes.

If she could save it, she didn't care if she looked desperate in the eyes of those watching.

“Don’t act surprised Mirena,” George continued, not an ounce of remorse in his gaze as he held hers. “This marriage of ours was a business transaction from the very beginning. Marrying the Sterling's eldest daughter in exchange for financial assistance. But you're not a Sterling and the only woman I've ever truly loved,” he paused and Mirena felt something shatter in her chest as he dragged his gaze towards Camille and stared tenderly at her. “Is Camille.”

“As for you,” his eyes snapped back to her, disgust lingering in those hazel eyes she'd fallen for. “I've never felt anything but disgust towards you.”

His eyes did a clean sweep of her from head to toe and she suddenly felt extra conscious of the outfit she'd chosen today.

A baggy gown fitted by the waist by a belt that looked to have seen better days.

“So what makes you think, an abominable eye sore like you, can compare to Camille. You're an utter joke!”

Each word left a scar on her heart, until there was nowhere left to draw along, until she couldn't take it anymore.

The whispers in the venue that should have been filled with love, laugh and liveliness, reached an all time high as she grabbed a glass from a passing waiter and without hesitation, tossed the champagne in George’s face, wetting his expensive suit.

Gasps and whispers immediately swallowed the silence that followed after her action.

“An utter joke? An abominable eye sore?” Her voice climbed several octaves higher, rising above the whispers. Her eyes, red and glazed over with unshed tears, glared at George who was yet to recover from the splash.

“You told me to dress like this, to keep my head low and not draw attention to myself! Mom and Dad told me to be nothing outstanding, all my life, they raised me like some backwater character and now you have the audacity to throw those words in my face? How dare you?!”

The scars on her heart bled into her words, each word carrying her years of sacrifice that have silently begged for acknowledgement.

However, George met her gaze with that same cold look in his eyes, the only sign of emotion, was that of mounting anger.

“And you listened? How stupid of you.” The words were practically spat in her face.

“If anyone's to blame for your stupidity, you have no one but yourself, Mirena.”

No matter how much she tried to keep her composure, those final words shattered all her effort.

It was all her fault. She'd sacrificed, bent over and suffered, for him, for the Sterling family, just to get their approval and love from the very day they took her out of that orphanage and in the end, this was what she got…

And it was her fault?

It was faint, heard only by her ear, but in that very moment, over the sound of whispers and cameras, Mirena heard her own heart shatter.

The next second, she felt a hand land on her shoulder and before she could even think to react, the hand spun her around and another collided with her right cheek, sending her face the other way.

Pain immediately bloomed on her cheek and the tang of metal filled her mouth. Above the ringing in her ear, she could hear a voice in front of her, screaming above the whispers.

When her gaze finally settled, her eyes zoned in on her mother, Genevieve Sterling.

Burning green eyes glared at her, an accusatory finger nearly poking her eyes.

“You ungrateful thing!” Genevieve spat. “How dare you throw a tantrum and disgrace yourself at Camille's party! Don't you have any shame?!”

“Is this how you repay us after everything we've done for you?!” Marcus Sterling backed his wife.

Stunned speechless, Mirena stared at them, then her eyes flickered to George who remained unfazed, finally her gaze dropped towards the short figure by his side.

Camille.

Like a small child, she hid beside George, shamelessly burying her face into his arm and putting on a great act at being frightened.

However, the moment Mirena locked eyes with her, the corners of her lips quivered upwards and a triumphed smile crossed her lips.

Mirena’s breath hitched and she scanned the crowd.

No one saw it. Rather, they fixed her with stares and glares of contempt.

Some even went the extra mile to shake their head in disgust and mutter about how utterly ungrateful she was.

The fake heiress who couldn't accept the fact that the real has returned and was now throwing a tantrum like a child; their looks branded her.

But they had no idea what she'd sacrificed for the Sterlings, for her husband who was now throwing her away like overused trash.

Biting back tears, Mirena took a step back, throwing one last glance in George's direction.

Now, he was cradling Camille like she was a fragile treasure, like she’d been the one hit and humiliated in front of all these people.

Like she was the one he swore to protect by the altar.

The tenderness in his gaze completely broke her and without hesitation, she pushed through the crowd, finding her way towards the exit.

Reporters and journalists followed her like a swarm of flies, relentlessly.

She tried her best to ignore them, wanting more than to get away from the eyes watching her, the mouths whispering about her, the judgment and humiliation.

Today was her birthday, but the present she'd received made her wish the floor would open up and swallow her.

The harsh drop of the rain pattered down on her as she forced her way out of the luxurious event hall.

But just as she stepped out, she was shoved hard by a group of netizens—Camille’s fans.

Once again, unlike her, Camille was a well renowned news Anchor with her own fan-base and said fan base had taken it up on themselves to come here today after the whole party event was broadcasted live.

Her body collided hard with the floor, earning her bruise and cuts from the harsh concrete floor.

Pain shot through her palm and leg, but that pain was nothing compared to the one squeezing her chest.

“You’ve stolen Camille’s life for twenty years and have the audacity to show up here and throw a tantrum. You have no shame, Mirena!”

“A fake like you deserves no place in high society! Go back to whatever dump you came from!”

“You've stolen enough of Camille’s life, just disappear and die already!”

Through all the accusations and insults, Mirena sat on the cold, wet floor, fingers buried in the dirt, then a bitter, hollow chuckle slipped past her lips.

Twenty years…twenty whole years. She walked on egg shells, tried to please the family that was cold to her, tried to win the heart of the man who despised her.

She'd tried everything, lived the worst life, listened to their every word, just to get them to love her, to approve of her.

Yet, this was the end result.

Cast out. Betrayed. Humiliated.

The realization, or rather, the reality she'd always run away from, was utterly crushing.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, lost in the drenching rain. Her shoulder shook and the broken laugh slipped past her lips was lost in the uproar of Camille's fans.

Helplessness washed over her and she hung her head low, wishing nothing more than for this day to be a dream.

Suddenly, a gasp tore through the commotion. “It’s Mr. Pierce!”

“Why is someone like Mr. Pierce here?!”

The commotion, or more accurately, the name reached Mirena’s ear through her despair.

A pair of black, well polished expensive shoes stopped in front of her as she peeled her eyes open.

The next second, the hard downpour suddenly disappeared and the sound of the rain hitting hard against an umbrella filled her ear.

Slowly, she raised her head and there standing under the bright moonlight, was a face she never thought she'd see in a moment like this.

Alexzander Pierce, her rival.

“Hello Mirena. Long time no see.”