Chapter 142

"This bracelet belonged to Evelyn's mother, but how could I have known her mother was nobility?" Laura's fingers trembled around the delicate jewelry. "If I return it to Evelyn, wouldn't that give them the perfect chance to recognize her?"

The thought made her blood run cold. 'I can't let that wretched girl reclaim her noble birthright. Not when she could use it to crush us beneath her designer heels.'

Vivian bit her lip. "But what about Dad—"

Laura cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Your father likely knows nothing about this. Keep it from him and your grandmother." Her eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. "Vivian, take this bracelet to Madam Nora. We'll fabricate your past until you can infiltrate the de Armas family."

She gripped her daughter's shoulders. "When you replace that bitch as the heiress, everything we've ever wanted will be ours!"

Laura knew poverty intimately. Before Richard rescued her from that crumbling tenement, she'd survived on scraps and stolen dignity. She'd be damned before letting Vivian endure such humiliation.

The Vanderbilts' wealth provided safety, but nobility? That was true power. Once Vivian secured her position among the elite, Laura would reap the benefits as her mother.

'Richard and the old hag won't suspect a thing,' she thought viciously. 'And how many winters does that fossil have left? When she dies, everything will belong to my son—if I can finally give Richard one.'

She pictured the future with grim satisfaction. 'Vivian as a noblewoman securing her brother's inheritance. That's when I'll finally have won.'

Vivian's nails dug into her palms. 'Evelyn always had everything—looks, talent, that damned Vanderbilt name. If not for her return to Cornelia with those bastard children, I'd already be Mrs. Goldmann!'

Her lips curled into a sneer. 'Since she stole Nathan from me, I'll take her birthright. Fair's fair.'

Meanwhile, Lucas Laurent returned to the academy, drawn by unanswered questions. Through the classroom door, he observed Caleb Vanderbilt playing piano for his music class. The boy's fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace.

Lucas studied him intently. At first glance, the child resembled the fierce-eyed boy from the Michelin restaurant. But closer inspection revealed striking differences.

'The restaurant boy had wolf's eyes—cold and calculating. This one?' He watched Caleb flash a dimpled smile at a classmate. 'This one moves like a fox playing harmless.'

"Professor Laurent?" The music teacher approached in surprise.

The interruption made several students falter mid-song. Caleb's hands stilled on the piano keys, his bright gaze swinging toward the doorway.

Lucas offered a dismissive wave. "Just observing. Carry on."

After class, Caleb appeared at Lucas's office, peering around the doorframe like a curious kitten. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Stop lurking." Lucas set down his coffee mug. "Come in."

The boy sauntered in with deceptive nonchalance. "What's this about?"

Lucas pulled out a chair, studying the child who now sat swinging his legs. "Do you have any identical siblings?"

Caleb blinked owlishly. "Just an older brother and little sister."

'I see.' Lucas leaned back. The pieces clicked into place—two boys with matching faces but opposing natures. One all sharp edges, the other polished charm.

Caleb tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

'Why indeed?' Lucas rubbed his temple. The resemblance was uncanny, yet the differences... "No reason. You may go."

As the door clicked shut, Lucas stared at the piano music still open on his desk. Some mysteries, it seemed, refused to be solved so easily.