An Imposter

The sharp click of Cora’s high heels echoed across the pavement as she came to a halt in the expansive square. She tilted her head back, letting her gaze sweep up the towering glass and steel facade of the Aura building. The morning sun reflected off the polished windows, casting a blinding glare that made her narrow her eyes. This place held too much history, too much stolen legacy. She stood resolute, letting the familiar shape of the corporate headquarters anchor her rising pulse.

Cora straightened her posture. She took a slow, deep breath, tasting the crisp city air.

"Mom, I'm back. I'm going to take back everything that belongs to us." She whispered the vow into the wind, her voice steady and laced with an iron will.

With her objective clear, she stepped forward. A lavish red carpet stretched from the curb all the way to the grand reception doors of Aura. Flanking the plush crimson runner were extravagant flower baskets, clusters of metallic balloons, and an ornate welcome banner spanning the archway. The sheer desperation of the display almost made her laugh. It was all prepared for Evelyn, the elusive, brilliant designer they believed would save them from ruin. Cora wondered, with a dark sense of amusement, how her estranged family would stomach the truth.

She walked down the carpet with measured, confident strides.

"Why are you here? How dare you come back?"

A shrill voice shattered the quiet morning. Vanessa stepped directly into Cora's path, blocking the entrance. She wore a tailored designer suit, her arms crossed tight against her chest, her face twisted in a sneer. She had clearly been waiting outside to greet the incoming savior, only to find the sister she despised walking the red carpet instead.

Cora stopped. She looked at the woman who shared half her blood. She raised her chin slightly, looking down at Vanessa. The slight height difference gave Cora a distinct, formidable edge, and she let her eyes fill with unapologetic contempt.

"I'm Evelyn Monroe, the designer you hired at a high salary." Cora kept her tone even, letting the words strike like a gavel. "I heard that Aura is about to go bankrupt because of your sheer incompetence. I'm here to save it, and it has nothing to do with you."

Vanessa’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a harsh, grating laugh ripped from her throat. She threw her head back, scoffing at the declaration.

"My dear sister," Vanessa said, weaponizing the affectionate term. "I know that you and your dead mother were both jewelry designers, but you need to understand something. Evelyn is an elderly woman from another country! You're just a little-known designer trying to pretend to be someone important. What a pathetic joke!"

The commotion had not gone unnoticed. Employees from the administration department, who had been arranging the final touches for the welcome ceremony, began to swarm toward the entrance. They clustered together, their eyes darting between the two women. Eager to curry favor with the current boss, they quickly took Vanessa’s side.

The vicious gossip started immediately, the whispers intentionally loud enough to carry across the marble steps.

"So this is Miss Atwood's sister! I heard that she once slept with an old man for money."

"She's not Miss Atwood's sister at all. She's just an illegitimate daughter. It made the headlines back then."

"She's beautiful with a perfect body. No wonder she could get that man into bed!"

"How dare she come back? Look at her eyes. She's clearly not a decent person."

"Unscrupulous people never care what others think of them. I think she fits this description perfectly."

"Do you really believe she's Evelyn?"

"Not a chance! She should prove it, anyway."

The relentless mockery washed over Cora, but she didn't flinch. The cruel rumors were a tired song she had learned to tune out years ago. She maintained her composure, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Vanessa soaked up the crowd's support. She looked at Cora complacently, a disdainful smirk playing on her lips.

"You hear that? No one believes you. But since we're family, I'm still willing to give you a chance. You can provide evidence that you're Evelyn, or you can turn around and get out of here right now!" Vanessa commanded.

The staff grew bolder, feeding off Vanessa's aggressive energy.

"Yeah, show us the evidence."

"That's too good for such a shameless woman. She can't leave before groveling through the office like a dog."

"Groveling through the office? The floor will get dirty!"

Cora turned her head. She cast a single, freezing glance over the clustered employees. The silent, lethal weight of her stare hit them like a physical blow. A few of them swallowed hard, instinctively snapping their mouths shut. The chill in her eyes was a stark contrast to the vulnerable girl they had read about in the tabloids.

However, the silence was brief. The staff quickly reminded themselves of the corporate hierarchy. Cora was just a disgraced exile, an illegitimate stain on the Atwood family. Vanessa was the one signing their paychecks. Emboldened by their own logic, the murmurs picked up again.

"Don't look at us that way! Give us evidence!"

"She's an imposter. She isn't even the eldest daughter of the Atwood family. What evidence could she possibly provide?"

Cora ignored the sycophants. She turned her attention back to the woman standing in front of her.

"Have you ever actually seen Evelyn or her works before?" Cora asked.

The question hit its mark. Vanessa’s smug expression faltered for a microsecond. Internally, panic flared. Vanessa had never heard of Evelyn before this crisis, let alone studied her portfolio. If Victor had not utilized his vast connections to invite the reclusive designer to Aura, Vanessa would never have known such a heavy hitter existed in the industry. Vanessa cared nothing for the art of jewelry design; she only cared about the profit and the prestige. Furthermore, Evelyn was notoriously mysterious. She kept a low profile, operating entirely behind the scenes. Even Victor had never laid eyes on the designer in person. He had moved mountains just to secure a signed contract.

But Vanessa could not let the crowd know she was ignorant. She had an image to maintain.

Vanessa’s face morphed into a mask of earnest concern. She stepped forward and aggressively grabbed Cora’s arm, digging her manicured nails into the fabric of Cora's coat.

"Although I have never seen Miss Monroe in person, I talked to her on the phone," Vanessa announced to the crowd, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "She is an amiable, low-key, and humorous old lady. I know that you've had a hard time outside these past few years. If you need money, just tell me. I can help you. You don't have to sink so low as to pretend to be Miss Monroe. She is the gold medalist of the Watervana Jewelry Design Competition."

The physical contact made Cora’s skin crawl. Disgust flared in her chest.

Cora ripped her arm away, shaking off the unwanted grip with a sharp, dismissive motion.

Seizing the golden opportunity, Vanessa threw her weight backward. She let out a dramatic gasp and deliberately collapsed onto the hard stone bordering the red carpet. The impact sounded brutal, drawing a collective gasp from the administration staff.

Cora stood frozen in surprise. She had barely used any force. She stared down at the woman on the floor, recognizing the setup a split second too late.

"What's going on?"

The frigid, authoritative male voice sliced through the chaos like a blade. It carried a heavy, imposing weight that instantly silenced the murmuring crowd.

Cora realized exactly what Vanessa was trying to do. The duplicitous woman had resorted to physical theater to frame her in front of an important audience.

Cora turned around slowly.

A tall man was striding toward the entrance. He radiated a cold, untouchable aura. He wore a high-end, custom-made black silk shirt paired with impeccably ironed straight black trousers. His broad shoulders and tailored clothes projected raw power, but it was his handsome, ice-cold face that forced the surrounding employees to take an intimidated step back. Behind him walked a bodyguard dressed in stark black, maintaining a similarly expressionless, powerful presence.

The man in the silk shirt stopped. He fixed his grim, intense glare on Cora.

As their eyes met, a strange shift occurred in his expression. The initial harshness in his dark eyes melted into a flicker of inexplicable curiosity. Cora stood tall and slim, the morning light highlighting her fair complexion and striking, pure features. Her watery, defiant eyes locked onto his, refusing to look away. For a fleeting moment, Victor felt a deep, unexplainable sense of familiarity wash over him. It was a phantom memory, something he could not place, yet it tugged at the edges of his mind.

Vanessa saw the intense gaze passing between them and knew she had to act fast. She scrambled up from the ground, ignoring the dust on her designer suit, and hurried to position herself in front of Victor.

"Don't blame my sister, Victor," Vanessa whimpered, her voice trembling with expertly feigned fragility. "She didn't push me. I lost my balance and fell. It was an accident."

Cora stood aside, observing the performance. She let out a dry, silent laugh, amazed at Vanessa's manipulative prowess. With just a few breathless words, Vanessa had painted herself as a saintly, forgiving victim and cemented Cora as the violent, unhinged aggressor.

Victor pulled his attention away from Cora's face. He looked down at Vanessa, then shifted his grim glare entirely back onto Cora.

"Apologize!" Victor demanded. The command cracked like a whip.

Before Cora could open her mouth to defend herself, Vanessa reached out and clamped her hands around Victor’s arm, leaning her weight against him.

"Let it go, Victor," Vanessa pleaded softly, playing the peacemaker. "My sister has been away from home for many years. She has had a very hard time. If lashing out makes her feel better, it doesn't matter to me. I can take it."

Victor looked down at the hands gripping his sleeve. A deep aversion to physical contact tightened his jaw. He dropped his arm, executing a smooth, deliberate motion that gently but firmly pushed Vanessa's hands off his clothing. His face darkened, a subtle sign of his discomfort, but his protective instinct remained intact.

He did not love Vanessa. Their connection was transactional and familial on a surface level. But in his eyes, she was a kind, tolerant woman. She was willing to endure public humiliation and physical assault from an illegitimate, estranged sister, yet still refer to the woman as family. He believed Vanessa's carefully crafted facade, and he felt a duty to protect her from this bitter outsider.

Victor stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Cora. His towering frame cast a shadow over her.

"Don't seek sympathy with your suffering," Victor stated icily. "Whatever hardships you faced, your past actions brought all this upon yourself."

Cora jerked her head up. She met his intense, intimidating gaze without a shred of fear. A fierce mixture of absolute pride and deep-seated hatred blazed in her eyes. She refused to cower before this arrogant stranger who dared to judge a history he knew nothing about.

"Did you hear that, Miss Atwood?" Cora threw the harsh words right back, her voice equally cold as she shifted her piercing glare to Vanessa. "You must bear the consequences for the choices you've made."

Vanessa’s heart skipped a beat. The calm, lethal edge in Cora's voice made a spike of anxiety shoot through her chest. She wondered frantically if Cora had recognized Victor, if she knew exactly who she was dealing with.

She had to drive this enemy away immediately. It didn't matter if Cora was Evelyn or just a desperate fraud; she could not be allowed to stay.

Vanessa moved closer to Victor again, keeping a safe distance from his arms but acting deeply wronged. She looked at Cora with pitying eyes.

"Cora, you shouldn't have pretended to be Miss Monroe. It is insulting to everyone involved. If you need money, you can tell me. I will write you a check right now. I have always regarded you as my sister, and I don't want to see you embarrass yourself any further."

Cora did not take the bait. She did not yell, and she did not try to explain herself to the judgmental billionaire standing nearby.

Instead, she calmly folded her arms across her chest. She cornered Vanessa with unyielding logic.

"You haven't actually seen Evelyn before, have you, Miss Atwood? Why are you so desperately sure that I'm an imposter?"

Refusing to back down, Vanessa fired back. "Evelyn is a famous jewelry designer invited here by Victor. Do you think we will believe you if you claim to be her? What if someone else comes here later and says she is Evelyn? You should at least provide evidence, right?"