Chapter 313

"Aunt Sylvia, Mother insists my sister was stillborn, and she must be right. Just consider—who would dare lie to Father and Mother?" Lillian Prescott said with a sorrowful expression.

Sylvia Kingsley pondered this and concluded it must be true.

Back then, Jonathan Prescott wasn't the political powerhouse he was now, but he was already a rising star in the political arena. No one would have the audacity to deceive him or steal his child.

Yet, Sylvia couldn't shake off a nagging unease.

"Don't worry, Aunt Sylvia. If my sister is alive, I'll find her one day. She's my adopted mother's biological daughter, which makes her my elder sister. I'll ask others to help search too," Lillian reassured, easing Sylvia's worries.

"You're such a good girl, Lillian. Your mother is fortunate to have you—so kind and understanding..." Sylvia's voice trembled with emotion. She had always admired Lillian's intelligence and maturity.

"You flatter me, Aunt Sylvia. Sharing Mother's burdens is my duty. I'd do anything to see her happy," Lillian replied with a practiced smile.

Her words were honeyed, and Sylvia beamed with approval.

Sylvia couldn't stop praising Lillian's thoughtfulness and Genevieve Prescott's luck in having such a daughter.

The restaurant's large LCD screen flashed with entertainment news.

"Breaking News! The identity of Dominic Blackwood's twins' mother has been revealed—a former unknown employee of T Corporation..."

"Reports claim Dominic Blackwood and Ms. Evelyn Sinclair, the twins' mother, have known each other for over a decade. Circumstances forced them apart, but they've since reunited. Sources say Dominic has been lavishing his beloved with extravagant gifts—luxury jewelry, a mansion, and rumors of the century's grandest wedding, though unconfirmed."

The news blurred Evelyn's face, showing only her long black hair and delicate oval features. The twins' faces were also obscured, but the sight of the happy family of four sent a sharp pain through Lillian's chest.

Her teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.

She barely registered the broken porcelain, her gaze fixed on the screen in stunned disbelief.

Her mind reeled. Evelyn Sinclair is the twins' mother? How?

Lillian's dazed state didn't escape Sylvia's notice.

"What's wrong, dear?" Sylvia asked, concerned.

She called Lillian's name several times before the younger woman snapped back to reality. "I'm fine, Aunt Sylvia," Lillian muttered weakly. "Just exhausted. I apologize for breaking your teacup..."

Sylvia smiled and shook her head but remained silent.

Her eyes flicked back to the television. "Dominic rarely tolerates gossip. He usually shuts down media outlets that spread rumors about him. How did this slip through? Strange. Most reports are fabricated, but... is it true the twins' mother has been found? That woman looks familiar..."

"If you'll excuse me, Aunt Sylvia, I'm not feeling well. I'll visit another time." Lillian abruptly stood to leave.

Sylvia, aware of Lillian's busy schedule as a celebrity, didn't question her sudden departure.

Distraught, Lillian headed straight to Maxwell Lockwood's bar without bothering to disguise herself.

Fans recognized her the moment she stepped inside.

Lillian wasn't A-list famous. Her debut lead role in Orphan Girl had launched her career, but subsequent mediocre projects stalled her popularity. Still, her family connections kept her relevant, and she maintained a certain level of fame.

Fans swarmed her, eager for autographs. "It's Lillian Prescott! I didn't know she came here! Lillian, I love you—can I get your signature?"

Lillian, already in a foul mood, had no patience for them.

The bar patrons, thrilled by the celebrity sighting, jostled around her. A few bold men took advantage of the chaos to grope her.

Lillian, known for her sweet, innocent image, rarely appeared in public. The men seized the opportunity.

"I adore you, Lillian! Sign this for me!" "You're my dream woman!"

The situation spiraled out of control. Even security struggled to contain the crowd.

Disgusting hands groped her breasts and backside, making her stomach churn. She was on the verge of exploding.

She turned on her fans, shrieking hysterically, "Get away from me, you filthy peasants! Do you want to die? Back off!"

Life as Jonathan Prescott's adopted daughter had spoiled Lillian. Gone were the days of hunger in the orphanage—now she lived in luxury, attended elite schools, and had a chauffeur.

People flattered her for her father's status, inflating her ego. She saw those beneath her as insects, oblivious to societal norms.

Being manhandled by "peasants" enraged her.

The fans recoiled in shock. This wasn't the gentle, charming star they knew from the screen.

"Is this really Lillian Prescott? She sounds like a rabid shrew!" "Did she just call us peasants? A politician's daughter shouldn't act like this—she's embarrassing her father!"

The crowd turned on her. Phones captured every second.

Lillian despised them all. With security's help, she fought her way out...