A Cheap Imitation

Silence dragged on in the office. Bridget stood tall, a practiced smile painted across her lips. She remained convinced her delivery of Valerie’s bold proposal would secure her rightful place as the true Kensington heiress. She wore a pink Burberry gown from the brand’s exclusive summer collection, designed to hug her curves and highlight her complexion. She paired the dress with custom four-inch silver heels. Around her neck and wrist gleamed vintage jewelry that had once belonged to Valerie's late mother.

Every detail of her outfit was curated to outshine her plain stepsister. Bridget thought outsiders were blind to the internal politics of Kensington Multimedia. She believed Valerie was a mere figurehead, while she and her doting father held the real control. She assumed her physical allure was vastly superior. *Since Valerie won him over with those exact words, I can do the same,* Bridget mused. *He must appreciate a woman who takes charge.*

Off to the side, Dexter rubbed his arms, suppressing a sudden prickle of goosebumps. He stared at the young woman in sheer disbelief. *Is she deranged?* Dexter thought. *Either she lost her mind, or she has a death wish.*

*Crack.*

A sharp snap shattered the quiet room. Alaric’s large hands crushed his limited-edition Parker pen clean in half. Dark ink spilled over his knuckles, staining his skin. His eyes were glacial, burning with unfiltered disgust.

"Brooks!" Alaric thundered. His voice rattled the windows and made the trio flinch.

The oak doors burst open. Brooks rushed inside, standing at attention. "Yes, Mr. Sinclair!"

"Get them out of here!" Alaric roared, tossing the ink-stained pen onto his polished mahogany desk. His aura turned frigid. "Verify visitors before bringing them up next time. No one is allowed to use Valerie's name to see me except herself!"

Wallace recoiled, the color draining from his face. The terrifying rumors about Vanguard's ruthless CEO were true. This man was not someone to trifle with.

Bridget blinked. Her smile vanished, replaced by panic. *What went wrong?* she thought frantically. *I used the exact same words Valerie did! There was not a single lie!* Caught off guard by the sudden hostility, she desperately tried to assert her status.

"Wait, Mr. Sinclair, please hear me out!" Bridget pleaded, stepping forward. "I am Kensington Multimedia's true heiress! I—"

Dexter and Brooks gave her no time. Their faces hardened into stone. Dexter grabbed Wallace's arm, while Brooks corralled a bewildered Bridget. They hustled the terrified father and daughter straight toward the exit.

They were shoved into the hallway, and the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them with a deafening thud.

Through the solid wood, Alaric’s icy voice echoed down the corridor. "Nothing but a try-hard copycat!"

Bridget froze in her custom heels. The cold reality of the rejection crashed over her. Her face burned with humiliation. Mortified, she stood shaking in the polished hallway. *A try-hard copycat?* Her chest heaved with indignation. Why did he accept Valerie's proposal without a second thought but treat her like garbage for saying the exact same thing?

It made no sense to her. It had to be Valerie's fault. *Valerie must have set this up to humiliate me!* Bridget seethed, her hands balling into tight fists. She irrationally blamed her stepsister for orchestrating this crushing embarrassment.

Brooks ignored her trembling form. He shoved the disgraced father-daughter duo toward the elevator, jamming the call button. He was determined to summon the ground-floor security guards to escort them out of the building.

Inside the office, the atmosphere remained tense. Alaric wiped the ink from his fingers and threw the ruined pen into the trash. His assistants stood frozen, ramrod straight. Nobody dared to question their raging boss or move a muscle. It had been years since any of them had seen Alaric lose his cool like this.

Dexter cautiously stepped forward. He had a job to do. "Mr. Sinclair," he said timidly, "your grandfather is already on his way here for the shareholders' meeting. Shall I arrange for you to have lunch with him at The Crest Restaurant?"

Alaric ignored the lunch suggestion. "Jaxon, get what I asked you to do done right away. You have one day."

He grabbed a fresh piece of paper and scribbled down two names: Wallace and Valerie. He slid the paper across the desk. "Lennox. I want a deep background investigation into Wallace Caldwell and Valerie’s current living situation. Leave no stone unturned."

"Yes, Mr. Sinclair," Lennox replied.

"Brooks, you will stay here. Dexter, join me at the meeting."

His assistants nodded mutely, accepting their swift orders. Even the usually cheeky Jaxon kept his mouth shut.

Alaric sat back in his leather chair. The explosive anger in his chest slowly began to ebb, replaced by a dark, gnawing concern. His brow furrowed in deep contemplation. Just yesterday, Valerie had given him three days to consider her marriage proposal. He had planned to wait until tomorrow to give her his answer.

So why did Wallace and Bridget pull that deranged stunt? Their attempt to replace her made no sense. If Valerie was in control of her situation, she would never let them come here using her name. The only logical conclusion was that she was in trouble.

He reached for his phone and dialed her number. It rang over and over, echoing in his quiet office. Finally, it went straight to voicemail. The unanswered call made his heart tighten. His thoughts turned tender and protective.

A knock sounded at the door. "Mr. Sinclair," Dexter called out softly. "Your grandpa is in the conference room now. He is asking for you."

Alaric stood up and grabbed his suit jacket. *Wait for me, little girl,* he thought silently, staring out at the sprawling city skyline. *You are the eldest daughter of the Kensington family. You were the princess I had to look up to, and the sole motivation behind my years of hard work. Just when I can finally provide for you, fate brought us together in such a strange way. This time, I won't lose you again.*

Across town, luxury vehicles pulled into the quiet driveway of the Caldwell residence. Montgomery and Miranda Prescott stepped out of their cars, dragging a reluctant Donovan and an annoyed Chloe behind them. Their intention today was to formally apologize to Valerie for Donovan's public behavior the previous day. Montgomery was desperate to salvage the impending marriage and save the lucrative corporate alliance between their families.

Rowena greeted the wealthy guests at the door with a sweet smile. She guided them into the plush living room, where a maid quickly set out coffee, fresh fruit, and pastries.

"Wally and Bridget aren't home yet," Rowena said, gesturing for them to sit. "They are still running errands. Please, help yourselves to some refreshments while you wait."

Montgomery and Miranda exhaled softly, exchanging relieved glances. They had been worried that the volatile Wallace would be home to shout at them.

"Don't trouble yourself, Rowena," Miranda said politely, taking a seat on the sofa. "Come sit and chat with us."

Rowena smiled warmly. "Why are you being so polite? It is not like we are strangers."

Miranda shifted awkwardly. "We brought Donovan here today to apologize to Valerie. He was in the wrong yesterday."

Chloe crossed her arms, her face turning cold. "Mom, why are you always doing this? What did Don even do to Valerie that was so bad?"

"Hush, you!" Montgomery snapped, glaring at his daughter. "Valerie is your future sister-in-law. Show her some respect! You cannot just blurt out whatever pops into your head."

Chloe puffed her cheeks in defiance but clamped her mouth shut under her father's harsh warning.

Rowena instantly slipped into her practiced peacemaker role. "Montgomery, don't be so hard on her. You will frighten her," Rowena advised gently, projecting fake affection. "Chloe's candidness is part of her charm. In fact, I would say it is one of her better qualities. She is much stronger than my Bridget. I quite like her honesty."

When it came to the art of placating wealthy guests, no one could rival Rowena.

Miranda beamed, pleased by the compliment. She scanned the quiet living room. "Where is Valerie? Do invite her down to talk to us. Once Donovan apologizes to her, we can all move on from this mess."

Rowena sighed heavily. Her shoulders slumped as she masterfully projected the image of a helpless stepmother. "You guys should know I can never call the shots regarding her. Her father might have a way with her, but without him around, she will never listen to me. She does whatever she pleases."

Montgomery sipped his coffee. Hearing this blatant lie about Valerie being an unruly brat, he felt a surge of inward relief. Wallace was out of the house.

Montgomery smirked slightly, running the calculations in his head. Without Wallace's explosive temper blocking the way, handling this situation would be a breeze. Valerie had always been affable and deeply infatuated with his son. A simple, half-hearted apology from Donovan would be more than enough to win the usually compliant girl back. Once the apology was delivered, the Prescott family would be free from any blame.