Her Hidden Identities, His Eternal Love

Lucinda Wipere sat across from her adoptive father, Preston Wipere, in the airport lounge. His voice held obvious reluctance as he spoke loud enough for nearby passengers to overhear.

"Lucinda, behave yourself out there. Your birth parents have little means, yet they are your family. Learn to curb that spoiled temper you picked up after years with the Wipere household."

Lucinda lifted her eyes, her clear gaze meeting his weary face. She said nothing, simply watching him in silence. Preston shifted awkwardly and looked away. "Call home if you need anything."

Her adoptive mother, Gemma Adams, rummaged in her purse and set an old, cracked-screen phone on the table. "Take this. Folks there can barely afford smartphones. It's outdated, but it still works—make do."

Gemma's fingers brushed her limited-edition Cartier necklace, conflicting emotions swirling inside her. They had raised Lucinda for twenty years, and now they were finally sending her away. Leaning toward Preston, she muttered, "Who will cook once she's gone? I can't stand anyone else's food."

"Keep your voice down," Preston warned.

"I'm just honest," Gemma retorted. "We hired three chefs, yet none can replicate her steak. Every meal lately tastes flat and empty." Annoyance creased her brow.

Years ago, their biological daughter Allegra had gone missing, and Gemma had cried herself nearly blind. On Preston's suggestion, they adopted Lucinda to fill the void. But regret struck her the moment the girl stepped through the door. Lucinda's face always reminded Gemma of her lost child.

The Wipere family had ruled as Seaside City's wealthiest for two decades. It galled her that a stranger's daughter lived in luxury while Allegra's whereabouts remained unknown.

Thankfully, Allegra had returned home. Better still, Lucinda's birth family had resurfaced. Rumor said they dwelled in the slums, jobless and disreputable, with three lazy, useless sons. A cold smile tugged at Gemma's lips. Good riddance. A clean break—though it was a shame to lose Lucinda's cooking.

She touched her necklace, and a sharp pain stabbed her chest. She pressed a hand to her heart for relief. Three months prior, doctors had diagnosed her with late-stage breast cancer and given her less than a month to live. Back then, Lucinda had tended to her relentlessly, massaging her and bringing medicine, yet Gemma had only grown impatient.

Everything changed when Allegra came home. Gemma felt half-healed at first sight of her daughter, and a true miracle followed: her tumor vanished entirely. The doctor called it a medical wonder, but Gemma knew it was divine grace. Allegra was God's angel, sent to save her. Lucinda's claims that her care had helped were nothing but nonsense. That ill-omened girl should have been cast out long ago.

"Lucinda, don't be sad. Those remote areas are dangerous for young women. Take care of yourself."

Allegra, the Wipere's long-lost birth daughter, sat beside Lucinda and held her hand, eyes red-rimmed. Triumph glinted plainly beneath her sorrowful act. She knew Lucinda's birth family could barely put food on the table, and the girl would face endless chores and mistreatment there. A sense of superiority washed over her.

"Don't worry," Allegra said sweetly. "I'll send you pocket money each month. It's not much, but it covers small needs. We're sisters—I can't bear to see you suffer."

Murmurs of praise rose from onlookers, all commending Allegra's kindness.

Lucinda stared at the hand gripping hers, her fingertips cold. She met Allegra's tearful eyes, her own expression utterly calm, then pulled her hand free and stood. "Disgusting."

Allegra froze, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "I know you're upset. Truth be told, I almost envy you—living somewhere quiet and scenic. I'm stuck here with tedious parties, family duties, and even your old engagement."

The wealthy Grayson family had long been bound to the Wipers by a marriage contract, which had passed to Allegra after her return.

A frosty smile played on Lucinda's lips. "That scumbag? He's all yours if you want him."

Allegra was stunned. Marshall Grayson was every socialite's dream—young, talented and handsome. This engagement was her chance to climb higher, and Lucinda dared to insult him?

"Lucinda!" Gemma jumped to her feet and stormed over. "How cruel can you be? Allegra showed you kindness, and you repay twenty years of our care like this? You ungrateful wretch!"

Lucinda halted and turned, a hollow smile on her face. "Shall I count every penny you've spent on me all these years?"

Gemma's features went rigid. Without another word, Lucinda picked up her backpack and headed for security.

She set her bag on the conveyor belt. Instantly, a red light flashed, and a shrill alarm split the lounge's quiet. Two uniformed officers hurried over. "Ma'am, please cooperate with our inspection."

The agent opened the backpack and pulled out sealed plastic bags from a hidden compartment. Inside were shriveled poppy husks.

Lucinda frowned and glanced toward Allegra, who stood a short distance away. She still wore a mournful look, but a clear flash of victory lit up her eyes the second the alarm sounded. Lucinda understood at once. This was a trap.

Allegra stepped forward, her voice trembling perfectly. "Lucinda, how could you bring something like this?" She feigned a sudden realization. "No wonder Mom and Dad craved your cooking so deeply. Have you been mixing this into their food all along?"

Gemma pushed through the crowd and froze. She thought of the bland meals she'd endured recently, and her face twisted with horror and revulsion. "Have you been poisoning us?"

Preston's expression darkened. "Lucinda, we raised you for twenty years. Is this how you repay us?"

Allegra clung to Gemma's arm, speaking softly. "Mom, don't scold her. She grew up lonely here, never feeling safe. She only wanted us to love her cooking more, so she…" She trailed off, then sighed. "It's my fault. She'd never have resorted to such desperation if I hadn't come home."

Gemma looked at her gentle, forgiving daughter, then at the cold, unyielding Lucinda. The contrast cut deep. She pulled Allegra behind her, glaring at Lucinda with unbridled disgust.

"I knew you were trouble! Drugging us, getting us addicted—do you even have a heart? This is not over. Your crimes are yours alone. We cut all ties ages ago. Live or die, it has nothing to do with the Wipere family."