The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Chapter 343

A Rolls–Royce. They actually switched to a Rolls–Royce.

Summer’s thoughts drifted to her upbringing within the Davis household. She lived there for over a decade. Her foster father had always stuck to that old Santana, no matter where he went, the same beaten–up car. Despite the family’s wealth, he paraded around with a frugality that bordered on miserly.

Now, he changed. The moment his biological daughter returned, he couldn’t wait to swap it out for a Rolls–Royce. This was really a double standard.

Feeling an unprecedented sense of injustice, Summer simmered with resentment. Before the mix–up was discovered, she never got to bask in the luxurious lifestyle deserved by a tycoon’s daughter. Why should everything change with the return of the blood–related child? Was she not their daughter before?

Biting her lip hard, Summer tried to contain the surge of unfairness, but the image of her father driving that luxury car played on a loop in her mind. She grew more pitiful with each pass, until tears cascaded down uncontrollably.

Her assistant, noticing Summer’s sudden outburst, panicked and hastily fumbled for a tissue from her bag. “Summer, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” she asked.

But as she reached out, Summer swatted her hand away fiercely. “Back off! Just leave me alone, all of you.”

Summer crouch and sob, she wanted to offer comfort but hesitated, recalling the harsh

didn’t understand the cause of Summer’s emotional breakdown, but how different was this from the

her gaze, she had

her sunglasses to hide her eyes, took a deep breath,

get in the car. There are too many onlookers, and it’s not

wiped her cheeks and slid into the car. The assistant followed suit, glancing

her seat, and it took her a while to reply, “No need. I’m fine now.”

decided to drop the subject.

in another vehicle.

engrossed in her phone, playing around, when a message from Nikolai popped up on Messenger, She pressed at the bridge

to make

concocted a medicine. Nikolai had been keen to ascist her, and now he was asking about incense–making. What sort of mischief was

was swift (No, I don’t

(You must. The Incense of Calm