Vlason was a rural, dead-end town. A black stretch Lincoln sat parked in front of a dilapidated apartment building. Its sleek chassis exuded an understated luxury. In this small town, even cars worth a few hundred grand were a rare sight here. Naturally, the vehicle had drawn a crowd of locals who milled about, whispering over who it could possibly belong to. Kendra Spencer stifled a yawn, barely giving the spectacle a second glance. She had spent the entire night dealing with an assassin sent by the dark web, and all she wanted now was to head upstairs and catch up on some sleep. Just as she walked past the vehicle, its rear door suddenly swung open. A man with graying hair and a crisp, tailored suit stepped out. He offered her a polite, practiced nod. "Miss, you must be Kendra Spencer, correct?" Gasps rippled through the surrounding crowd. "That would be me." Kendra sized the man up, the corners of her lips curling into a faint smile. She made no attempt to deny it. First, an assassin, and now a man with a luxury car. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Visible relief washed over the man's face. He retrieved a document from the car and handed it to her. "Miss Spencer, you are the biological daughter of the Spencer family's patriarch. Your father insisted that I personally bring you home. I am their butler, Alex Jenkins. You may call me Alex." Kendra was surprised. A slum kid like her, who didn't even have parents, turned out to be the biological daughter of a wealthy family's patriarch. She took the folder. Inside, the DNA report stated that the probability of her being related to Preston Spencer and Dolores Spencer was 99.99 percent. There was zero room for error. She stared at the name "Preston Spencer" for a long moment. He was the successor to Spencer Pharmaceuticals. The Spencer family in Yrocbert was old money, boasting assets well over a hundred million dollars. One moment, someone was putting a price on her life. The next, the Spencer family's butler was rolling up to chauffeur her home. She didn't believe for a second that these two events were completely unrelated. This was truly interesting. A glint sparked in Kendra's eyes, and the curve of her smile grew even more captivating. She snapped the report shut, looked up at Alex, and smiled. "So, when do we leave?" Alex froze, clearly caught off guard by how quickly she had accepted the news. This young woman was truly unusual. Wouldn't an ordinary person be in utter disbelief? Or, at the very least, ecstatic? After all, judging by the state of her apartment building, she hadn't exactly been living a life of luxury. Yet she was taking it all in stride. It took Alex several seconds to recover his wits before he replied dryly, "The car is ready. We can leave whenever you are, Miss Spencer." Kendra handed the report back to him, her smile unwavering. "Alright. Let me head up and grab a few things, and then I'll leave with you." She then headed upstairs and let herself into her cramped apartment. Out of habit, she grabbed a cola from the fridge and took a long gulp. Then, she curled up on the couch like a cat and dialed a number on her phone. It only rang once before the line clicked open. A woman's voice came from the other end of the line. "Boss." Kendra hummed a faint acknowledgment. "Nicole, pull up everything you can find on the Spencer family from Yrocbert. Immediately."

Hanging up the phone, Kendra casually tossed her empty cola can into a nearby trash bin. Her biological parents? A mocking smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. It sounded like something worth looking forward to. When she was just born, her mother had vanished from the hospital. Keith Moore, the hospital director back then, had adopted her. According to him, her mother was likely a rural woman who had gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Perhaps feeling unable to raise a child on her own, she had fled. Because of this, even when Kendra grew up and had the financial means, she had never bothered looking for her biological parents. But as it turned out, she had been switched at birth. She didn't believe the hospital would make such a careless blunder, which meant the only person who could have switched the babies was that woman. How interesting—trading another child's destiny for her own daughter's lifetime of wealth and privilege. What a brilliant scheme. But people always had to pay the price for what they had done. With a plan already forming in her mind, Kendra casually packed a few changes of clothes into a bag and headed downstairs. She got into the luxurious stretch Lincoln and headed in the direction of Yrocbert. Kendra leaned back against the leather seat, closing her eyes to rest. Half an hour later, the car glided into an exclusive, ultra-expensive district of Yrocbert. The Spencer residence was a sprawling manor. The main gates alone stood over three meters high, flanked by two stone sculptures that projected an imposing grandeur. Kendra followed the butler through a long corridor before stepping into the main hall of the estate. Five people were waiting in the room. At the center seat of honor sat a man in his seventies, dressed in a dark suit. He leaned on a gold cane, radiating a sharp, vigorous authority. On the left couch sat a middle-aged couple. The man wore a crisp suit and a stern expression; the woman was dripping in jewels and impeccably groomed, though the look she gave Kendra was full of undisguised, critical scrutiny. On the right was a young man around twenty-five. He sat with his legs crossed, scrolling through his phone without even glancing up, treating Kendra as if she were nothing but thin air. Next to the young man sat a girl about Kendra's age. She wore a white Chanel suit, her hair tied back in an exquisite low ponytail. Her eyes were slightly red, and her entire presence exuded an aura of pitiful, fragile innocence. Yet Kendra didn't miss the fleeting flash of jealousy and hatred that darkened the girl's eyes. She understood immediately. This had to be Lorelai Spencer, the girl who had stolen her identity for the past twenty years. "You must be Kendra. I'm your grandfather, Terry Spencer. Come here and let me get a good look at you." The old man in the seat of honor was the first to break the silence. Kendra walked over gracefully, offering a polite smile and a nod. "Hello, Mr. Spencer." Until she had the full measure of the situation, she had no intention of playing the dutiful granddaughter right away. After all, human nature was fickle, and she had seen far too much of it growing up. However, she could tell that this old man genuinely welcomed her. The joy shining in his eyes couldn't be faked. As for her biological parents and brother, Kendra's gaze swept over them, taking in their cold, varied expressions. "Kendra, you're finally back. We've really been wanting to see you." Wringing her hands, Lorelai stepped closer. Her voice trembled with a delicate weakness that made her appear all the more fragile. Kendra looked at her, a cryptic smile playing on her lips. Ignoring the girl entirely, Kendra turned her attention back to Terry and cut straight to the chase. "Mr. Spencer, your family was in quite a rush to bring me back. I doubt this is just about a heartwarming family reunion, is it?" Terry stiffened, clearly caught off guard by her bluntness. A flicker of discomfort crossed his eyes. "You certainly don't mince words, young lady." He let out a heavy sigh. "Indeed. The reason we brought you back so urgently is for an arranged marriage."

The truth only came out when the Spencer family was preparing for Lorelai's engagement to Travis Bradley, the grandson of the Bradley family's patriarch. A routine genetic screening revealed a glaring discrepancy: Lorelai's blood type didn't match Preston or his wife's. A quiet investigation soon brought the ugly truth to light. Twenty years ago, Dolores had given birth to a baby girl in the city's top private hospital. Shortly after delivery, the infant was sent to the neonatal ward for jaundice. Around the same time, a woman from a rural village had also given birth to a daughter in the same hospital. It was that woman who had secretly switched the babies. Recently, Lorelai had been terrified that the exposure of her true identity would ruin her marriage prospects. But just a few days later, Travis was involved in a horrific car accident, leaving him in a permanent vegetative state. The Spencer family refused to let Lorelai be trapped in a hollow marriage to a vegetable, but they also couldn't bear to lose their chance to climb the social ladder by allying with a top-tier family. That gave them the perfect solution: marry off Kendra, their biological daughter, in her place. "Over the past twenty years, we've poured our hearts into raising Lorelai. Even if she isn't my biological daughter, she's no different from one to me." Dolores couldn't help but speak up. Her tone rang with an eager defensiveness, as if she were terrified that Lorelai might feel slighted. Preston nodded in agreement. "Lorelai has been exceptional since she was a child, and she has received the finest upbringing a young lady could have. You, on the other hand, are different. For someone like you, the Bradley family is more than a good match..." He glanced at Kendra, letting the sentence trail off, though his meaning was painfully clear. How could Kendra possibly misunderstand? They were telling her that Lorelai was the prized daughter they had meticulously cultivated for two decades—far too precious to be thrown away on a vegetable. Meanwhile, as an unsophisticated girl from a small town, she should be getting down on her knees in gratitude for the chance to marry into a life of luxury. Kendra didn't get angry; instead, a smile touched her lips. "So, you had me brought here just to inform me that I had to take the place of the woman who stole twenty years of my life and marry a vegetable?" Dolores caught the sharp mockery in her tone. Her brow furrowed as she snapped, "What kind of attitude is that? How is Lorelai to blame for what her mother did? Are you really going to hold that against an innocent girl?" Kendra's brother, Colin Spencer, finally looked up. He shot her a cold, warning glare, his voice laced with ice. "Mom is right. Lorelai is family, and that will never change. As the biological daughter, you were the one meant to marry into the Bradley family anyway. If you know what's good for you, you'll do as you're told and marry him." Kendra looked as if she had just heard the funniest joke in the world, unable to suppress the genuine amusement dancing in her eyes. She swept her gaze over the four of them—who looked every bit like a picture-perfect, complete family—and said casually, "I can marry into the Bradley family..." Preston and the others instantly looked relieved, but Kendra wasn't finished. "However, I have one request..." Her smile turned chilling. "The precious daughter you raised must disappear from this house." The room instantly fell so silent one could hear a pin drop.