Turning the Fake Heiress' Manipulative Tricks on Her

Right after I reunite with my rich biological family, Ruth Stark, the adopted daughter, eagerly helps me fit into her social circle.

But those rich scions constantly mock me and force me to drink. They also make crude jokes at my expense.

I am furious, while Ruth walks over gracefully and says with a face full of concern, "Don't tease my sister. She just came back from the countryside and is clueless about the way things are here. I will drink for her."

Everyone praises her for being kind and magnanimous while further cementing my reputation as a country bumpkin.

One day, Ruth plans to take me to another gathering with her friends.

Just as I am about to snap, the butler of Mason Frost, suddenly arrives at our door. He says it is a generous gift personally sent by Mason's mother.

My parents instantly beam with joy and grab Ruth's hand excitedly.

They praise, "You have made us proud, Ruth. It seems the Frost family is very satisfied with you. This marriage alliance is practically settled."

Ruth lowers her head shyly, casting a taunting glance at me.

But when I see the tag on the gift box, I can't help but laugh. Every employee who joins Frost Group receives this exact welcome gift.

If Mrs. Frost finds out someone has mistaken this for a wedding gift for marrying her son, she will probably be very annoyed.

I could practically taste how smug Ruth Stark felt as she ran her thumb over the gift box stamped with Frost Group's logo. She still put on an act, though.

"Jemima, don't take this to heart. Honestly… I've always thought this engagement should've been yours. After all, you're Mom and Dad's biological daughter. It's just that I've been in this circle for so long that Mr. Frost assumes I'm the real heiress… If you're upset, why don't I give you this gift instead?"

I almost laughed out loud at her fake concern.

Was she talking about Mason Frost, that devil of a man? Sure, he was the man people called Jarvon's prince, but everyone also knew he was obsessively perfectionistic to the point of being sick in the head. He could make someone redo a presentation three times over a single punctuation mark.

Since Ruth was so eager to walk right into a hellhole, why would I ever stop her?

I waved a hand, barely holding back my laughter. "Oh, I don't mind in the slightest. Go ahead and take it, Ruth. I wouldn't want such a 'blessing' even if you shoved it at me."

Ruth's face froze. She'd been waiting to see me lose it with jealousy. Instead, she'd gotten such a lackluster response.

"Jemima, you're so… generous," she forced through gritted teeth. Then, she turned to Mom and Dad. "Mom, Dad, it's getting late. I'll take Jemima upstairs to rest."

Mom and Dad were too busy basking in the joy of climbing up the social ladder and latching onto the Frosts