Chapter 2: Blood Don't Lie

Seraphina's POV

The temperature in the room plummeted. Conrad's face went white. Irene made a strangled sound. Even little Prince Julian looked shocked.

But Silas? Silas smiled.

"Buying you?" He stood up slowly, his full height making him look like an avenging angel. "Child, you weren't bought. You're coming home."

He turned to face the room, and his voice carried the weight of absolute authority. "Everyone listen carefully, because I'm only saying this once." His eyes swept over each family member like a judge delivering a verdict. "This is Seraphina Alden. My granddaughter. My blood. She is the true daughter of this house, and she will be treated as such."

"But Grandpa," Brielle's voice was high and desperate, "I'm your granddaughter! I've always been your-"

"You," he said, cutting her off, "are a Miller."

Brielle's face crumpled like a house of cards. She launched herself at Silas again, sobbing dramatically. "No, no, no! I'm your princess! I'm your little princess!"

The nanny stepped forward and gently but firmly pulled Brielle away. "Come now, Miss Brielle. Let's get you some water."

"I don't want water!" Brielle wailed, but she was being led toward the kitchen whether she wanted to go or not.

"Dad," Conrad said carefully, "maybe we should discuss this privately before we-"

"Before we what?" Silas's voice could have frozen hell. "Before we acknowledge that my actual granddaughter has been living in squalor while a stranger enjoyed her inheritance?"

He pulled a manila envelope from his jacket pocket and threw it onto the coffee table. "Paternity test. Ninety-nine point eight percent certainty. Seraphina is mine. That Miller girl is not."

A man in a black suit appeared out of nowhere - probably Silas's assistant - carrying a briefcase. He opened it with practiced efficiency and pulled out official-looking documents.

"The results are conclusive, sir," he said in a voice like gravel. "No room for error."

Brielle broke free from her nanny and ran to Irene, throwing herself into the woman's arms.

"This whole baby-swap situation stinks to high heaven," Silas continued, "Nobody just accidentally takes the wrong baby home from the hospital. Someone's going to pay for this."

"And what about Brielle?" Irene choked out, clutching the fake daughter. "We can't just... she's been our baby for seven years!"

"She can go back where she belongs," Silas said flatly. "To her real parents."

"NO!" Brielle screamed, loud enough to rattle the chandelier. "I won't go back! They're mean and scary and they don't have pretty things! Please, Mommy, don't make me go back!"

Irene was crying harder now, smoothing Brielle's perfect curls. "We can't just abandon her, Conrad. She's still our little girl, blood or no blood."

I tugged on Silas's sleeve. He looked down at me with those sharp green eyes, and I whispered, "My hand hurts."

Without hesitation, he grabbed the torn hem of my too-small sweater and pushed up the sleeve. The fabric caught on a scab and I winced, but I didn't pull away.

The room went dead silent.

My forearm was a roadmap of pain - purple bruises in the shape of fingers, yellow-green marks from where Buck had grabbed me too hard, a long red scratch from when Misty had "accidentally" dragged me across the broken kitchen tile.

Someone gasped.

Silas's grip on my arm was gentle but his voice was pure murder. "Who. Did. This."

I stared at the bruises like they belonged to someone else. "I wasn't being good," I said in the flat voice I'd learned to use when things got really bad. "Daddy and Mommy had to punish me when I didn't listen."

Conrad slammed his hand down on the coffee table so hard his paperwork scattered everywhere. He shot to his feet, his face red with rage. "Those fucking animals!"

Brielle started wailing again, terrified by the sudden violence.

"This is about more than a baby swap," Silas growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This is about them laying hands on an Alden. On MY granddaughter. They might as well have spit in my face."

He gestured toward Brielle, who was still sobbing in Irene's arms. "Look at her. Look how they raised their own blood - like a little princess. Spoiled rotten and dressed in silk." His eyes blazed as he looked back at my scarred arm. "And look what they did to mine."

"That's it." Silas's voice cut through Brielle's crying like a blade. "Brielle Miller goes back where she belongs. Today."

Six months later, I barely recognized myself in the mirror.

Gone was the skeletal waif who'd stumbled into this mansion. My cheekbones had softened, and my skin had traded its sickly gray pallor for a healthy glow. But most importantly, those trademark Alden green eyes—once dull and lifeless—now blazed like emeralds in sunlight.

"Unmistakably Alden blood," the society pages would later gush. "Those eyes don't lie."

Silas unleashed his legal team on Buck and Misty, pushing for child abuse charges against them.

"Seraphina, darling," Irene called from the doorway, her voice laced with that forced cheer she'd been using for months. "Your birthday party's starting in an hour. You ready?"

I turned from the vanity. "Almost."

She hovered, clearly itching to say more. Then it slipped out.

"Well, don't take too long, Bri—" She caught herself, face flushing. "Seraphina. Don't take too long, Seraphina."

The silence hung heavy.

'Still hung up on your precious fake daughter, huh?' I thought, keeping my face neutral. "Of course, Mom."

An hour later, I stood on the grand staircase in a custom white dress, cameras flashing like paparazzi fireworks. Silas was beside me, his hand firm on my shoulder as he addressed the crowd of reporters and socialites.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice commanded the room, "I present my granddaughter, Miss Seraphina Alden. The true and only heiress to the Alden legacy."

The flashes exploded. Questions flew, but Silas's security kept them back. I stood tall, letting those piercing green eyes do the talking. Every photo would scream pure Alden blood.

Back home after the media circus, the real drama unfolded.

I walked into the living room and froze. There, curled up on the sofa like she'd never left, was Princess Buck-Teeth herself.

Brielle Miller was back.