Reborn And Pampered: The Genius Heiress Returns

The heavy wrought-iron gates of the Fitzpatrick estate groaned as Leland pushed them open. The metal hinges scraped together, a harsh sound that grated against the eardrums.

Leland did not look back. He simply jerked his chin, signaling for the seven-year-old girl to follow.

Cordelia stepped forward. Her faded, oversized T-shirt hung loosely on her thin frame. Her worn-out sneakers hit the pristine, mirror-like marble driveway, leaving a faint smudge of gray dust with every step.

Leland glanced down at the dirt. His nose wrinkled. The muscles in his jaw tightened in obvious disgust. He quickened his pace, deliberately putting three steps of distance between his polished Italian leather shoes and her dirty sneakers.

Cordelia did not care. She tilted her head back, her eyes scanning the massive Gothic architecture of the main house. Her pulse was steady. Her stomach did not flutter with the nervous anticipation of a child coming home.

Her eyes were dead pools of still water.

They walked through the manicured rose garden. A stray thorn caught the frayed hem of Cordelia's shirt.

She did not stop. She did not ask for help. She simply grabbed the fabric and yanked it in the opposite direction. The thread snapped. The movement was sharp, efficient, and entirely devoid of childish helplessness.

Leland pushed open the double mahogany doors of the main house.

A blast of freezing air conditioning hit Cordelia's face. It smelled of expensive floral perfume and chemical floor wax. The sudden cold made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. Goosebumps erupted across her skin.

Inside the grand foyer, a maid named Maureen was wiping down an antique vase. Maureen turned her head. Maureen, who had served Antoinette loyally for a decade and adored Hallie, saw the newcomer not as a child, but as a threat to the household's peace. Her eyes swept over Cordelia's yellowed hair and cheap clothes. The corners of Maureen's mouth immediately pulled down into a sneer.

Maureen shifted her weight. She casually kicked her mop bucket half an inch to the right, placing it directly in Cordelia's path.

Cordelia kept her eyes on the floor. She did not break her stride. At the exact last second, her right foot shifted a fraction of an inch. She glided past the bucket without brushing the plastic.

Maureen blinked, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp of surprise.

Leland stopped at the edge of the cavernous living room. He cleared his throat loudly, trying to get the attention of the person sitting on the floor.

Hallie sat on a massive Persian rug, surrounded by the pieces of a thousand-piece puzzle. She wore a custom-made silk princess dress. At the sound of Leland's throat clearing, Hallie jerked her head up. Her face twisted with annoyance.

Then, Hallie saw Cordelia.

Hallie's eyes locked onto the dirt on Cordelia's shoes and the malnutrition in her cheeks. The skin around Hallie's eyes tightened. A violent surge of jealousy and pure hatred flashed across her face.

Hallie