Scars of Deception
The Sterling mansion stood imposing on a Beverly Hills hill, radiating a majestic yet chillingly cold aura. For Lily, those gilded iron gates were not an entrance to glamour, but the final destination in a grueling twenty-year journey to find her father, who vanished in a fierce storm. Clutching a tarnished silver half-pendant in her hand, she took a deep breath and stepped inside as the newly hired personal archivist for the billionaire, Arthur Sterling.
From her very first day, Lily carefully observed the sixty-year-old billionaire. He possessed a distinguished, authoritative presence, yet his eyes harbored a profound, lingering sadness. That afternoon, while organizing bookshelves in his study, Lily was asked to brew him a cup of tea. "Black tea," Arthur said in a warm baritone, his eyes never leaving his documents. "Add a slice of lemon and... a pinch of salt for me." The tea tray nearly slipped from Lily's grasp. A pinch of salt? Who drinks tea with salt? No one, except her father—a man with peculiar habits who once told an eight-year-old Lily that salt brought out the tea's deepest flavors. Her hands trembled as she set the cup down. At that exact moment, Arthur turned to look out the window. The collar of his shirt shifted, revealing a large, crescent-shaped scar on the back of his neck. Lily’s heart stopped. It was the exact scar caused by a splintered wooden plank during that terrifying storm years ago. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Oh God, she had found him. This had to be her father.
But Lily had no idea that her tearful, emotional gaze had fallen perfectly into the line of sight of Victoria—the billionaire's current wife. Hailing from the pragmatic upper crust, Victoria possessed eyes as sharp as razors and a hyper-sensitivity to any woman daring to step near her husband's massive fortune. To Victoria, Lily was no diligent assistant. That stealthy gaze, the excessive attentiveness, and those hovering tears could only be the cheap tricks of a brazen, young mistress trying to use her looks to seduce a wealthy older man. Later that afternoon, in an empty corridor, Victoria cornered Lily. She gripped the young woman's wrist tightly, her words hissing through clenched teeth: "Do you really think a few flirtatious glances and a fragile act will get you into this family? I've crushed gold diggers far more sophisticated than you. Stay away from my husband, you little brat."
Despite Victoria's threats, Lily needed to be one hundred percent certain. Arthur's memory might be gone, but his body couldn't lie. She remembered vividly that her father was deathly allergic to apples. Just one bite would cause immediate hives and shortness of breath. That evening, using the excuse of thanking the family for hiring her, Lily baked a traditional apple pie from scratch. As the dessert was served, Lily held her breath, standing in the corner of the dining room, her hands clasped together so tightly her palms sweated. She watched Arthur use his fork to cut a large piece and bring it to his mouth. He chewed slowly. Lily counted every second. One second... five seconds... ten seconds. Arthur smiled, nodding in satisfaction: "Delicious. It's been a long time since I've had an apple pie this incredible." No coughing. No red hives creeping up his neck. He was completely fine. Lily's world crumbled. How could her father eat an apple so happily? Could it be that all of this was just an insane coincidence, and this man was truly not her father?
Later that night, the Beverly Hills sky churned with dark clouds. Thunder roared and lightning slashed across the sky as Lily sneaked back into Arthur's study, flipping through old photo albums in a desperate search for a fragile thread of hope.
BANG!
The heavy oak door was kicked open. Victoria stormed in, her eyes bloodshot with fury. Before Lily could even react, a vicious slap struck her cheek, sending her crashing onto the thick carpet. "You sly little fox!" Victoria hissed, violently hurling a stack of photos onto the desk. They were candid shots of Lily: hiding behind a tree watching Arthur, secretly collecting his used water glass, peeking through a cracked door. "You dared to hire a private investigator to stalk my husband? Are you planning extortion, or what twisted scheme are you pulling?"
Lily clutched her swollen cheek, tears streaming down her face. She opened her mouth to defend herself when heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway. Arthur appeared at the threshold. His face was as cold as a block of ice. Lily looked up at him with pleading eyes: "Mr. Sterling... please, listen to me, I didn't..." But Arthur didn't glance at Victoria, nor did he make any move to help Lily up. His piercing gaze drilled straight into the young woman. He slowly reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a sealed brown envelope, and threw it directly onto the scattered photos on the floor. His gravelly voice cut through the rumbling thunder outside:
"Did you think I was blind, Lily? Do you think I don't know exactly who you are and why you are here?"
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The envelope burst open upon hitting the ground, spilling a medical document. Under the room's sickly yellow light, Lily stared in sheer horror at the bold words glaring from the edge of the paper: DNA TEST RESULTS.
To be continued...!
