Chapter 2: The Name Buried Under Wealth
The silence became suffocating.
Vivienne stared at the maid more closely now, as if seeing her for the first time. The posture, the eyes, the faint scar near the jawline—it all flickered with something painfully familiar.
“No…” Vivienne stepped forward slowly. “That’s impossible.”
The maid’s lips trembled. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
A memory tried to surface—mud, rain, a crying child holding onto a broken bracelet. Then nothing but darkness.
From the balcony above, their mother finally spoke, voice shaking.
“Stop… both of you, please stop…”
Every head turned.
The elite guests, who once prided themselves on controlling every rumor in the city, now stood frozen like statues.
Vivienne turned sharply. “Mother… what is this?”
But the woman couldn’t answer. Her hands were shaking too violently.
The maid took a step forward.
“I wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said softly. “You made sure of that.”
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
Vivienne’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
And then the maid said the words that shattered everything:
May you like
“You left me behind when you became ‘Vivienne Laurent.’ But I was born with you… I am your twin sister.”
The chandelier lights suddenly felt too bright. Too cruel.
