A False Heiress's Guide to Love and Power

She was quietly sobbing, the picture of someone who’d just suffered the world’s greatest injustice. In any ordinary family, everyone would be fussing over her, trying to soothe her hurt feelings, desperate to make up for all the years she’d

supposedly missed out on.

But this was the Tate family.

The Tates‘ faces were utterly unmoved as Ileana Morton put on her little one–woman show. Not a flicker of sympathy, not a word of comfort.

After seventeen years living among the Tates, Alessia’s temperament had inevitably picked up some of their coldness. Watching Ileana’s delicate, pitiful act, Alessia found her interest fading fast. In fact, after a long journey, the faint sound of those sniffles was starting to get on her nerves.

“Dad. Mom.” Alessia withdrew her gaze.

“Sit down,” Scott Tate said. Alessia obeyed, slipping into a chair just as Mae appeared with a tray, setting down a cup of tea in front of her.

Alessia took a delicate sip. The fragrance of black tea bloomed on her tongue, soothing her nerves and smoothing some of the tension from her shoulders.

“This must be… my sister, right?” Ileana finally dropped the act when no one paid her any attention. In an instant, she switched tactics: shoulders slumping, lashes fluttering with wounded innocence. She was quick to play the underdog, eyes wide and mournful, a posture designed to elicit sympathy, to make others want to stand up for her.

Unfortunately, her performance was so painfully obvious that none of the three Tates responded.

a moment, the air in the

As she set her cup down,

raised brow.

inherited Yvonne Sullivan’s softer features. She was attractive in her own right,

in Ileana’s eyes was impossible to miss. Alessia’s lips curled in a faint, knowing smile. She had a decent

1/2

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with the Tate

biological parents.” Scott slid a folder across

no pretense. They valued time, because time meant

unhurried grace. From the moment she’d entered the house, everything about her spoke of poise. After all, she’d

Alessia skimmed them,

wonder they’ve suddenly come looking for me now, she thought, but said nothing aloud. Instead, she casually turned the

photograph. She let out a long breath. “Well, looks like I’ll

misunderstood the sigh–assuming Alessia was overwhelmed with sadness about her future. Ileana lowered her head, hiding the

adoptive parents aren’t well–off. Please

It sounds strange.” Alessia didn’t bother to put on a show