"The discarded daughter of Sinclairs, you really have no shame left, do you?"
Veronica mocked as she entered the VIP lounge.
Selene didn't need to look up to know who it was—Veronica Astor, professional socialite, heir to an old-money empire, and the most entitled brat Selene had ever met.
Selene said nothing as she scrubbed the sticky marble floor. Her knees ached, her fingers numb from the cold water, but Veronica was even more relentless that day.
"Miss Sinclair, you missed a spot," she said in a honeyed, mocking voice.
A collective giggle rippled through the lounge as Veronica 'accidentally' tipped her cocktail glass. The icy liquid splashed onto Selene's uniform, drenching the already-worn fabric.
"Oh dear," Veronica gasped theatrically. "What a shame. How will you afford new clothes?"
The laughter grew louder. Selene's hands clenched around the rag, her jaw tightening as she controlled the urge to gag Selene with that same stinky rug.
"Ten more days," Selene reminded herself.
That's all she had to endure. Then her father would finally reinstate her as the rightful heir to the Sinclair empire, just as he promised. He had said she needed to earn it. Prove herself.
And she believed him without a doubt.
Swallowing her anger, Selene stood up and walked toward the washroom, the stained uniform clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Inside, she turned on the sink, rubbing the fabric in vain.
Her reflection stared back at her in the cracked mirror. Selene Sinclair. The daughter of billionaire Victor Sinclair, forced to work like a lowly servant.
All because her stepmother, Bianca, had whispered poison into her father's ears. She had spun a narrative that Selene was spoiled, unworthy, that she needed to 'earn' her place. And her father, ever the genius, had so easily believed her.
Within a few months, the entire city started talking about it.
Selene had tried to stay low, avoid prying gazes, but somehow, other elites always found her wherever she went. Always mocking her miserable fate.
At first, Selene had thought it would be over soon. That the test would be temporary. Just something that proves her resilience. But years had passed. The jobs had only grown more humiliating.
Yet, he had reassured her again and again: Only until you're twenty, Selene. You know I love you. There's no one else who can take your place.
And finally, she was turning twenty in ten days.
"Just you wait, Veronica," Selene whispered with a bitter smile, "As soon as I am out of here, I'll make sure the Sinclair Group severs all ties with your family business!"
With that, Selene took a deep breath and stepped back into the club—then, her heart almost stopped beating.
"Adrian?" Selene murmured, shocked.
He was near the VIP lounge, arm wrapped around Veronica Astor.
Selene's childhood sweetheart. The boy who had once sworn he would stand by her side no matter what. The man who promised he would love her forever… He had been distant for months, and now, she saw why.
Veronica turned in his arms and kissed him, the smugness in her eyes unmistakable.
Selene felt like the air had been punched out of her lungs. "You—"
Adrian barely spared her a glance. "Selene, don't make a scene."
"A scene?" Her voice wavered. "YOU'VE BEEN CHEATING ON ME!"
Veronica let out a faux-sympathetic sigh. "Oh, Selene. I didn't steal him. He was never really yours."
The words sliced deeper than they should have. Selene had fought so hard to hold onto everything—the scraps of her past life, the promise of a future, her father's word. And yet, every time she thought she could breathe, life reminded her that she had nothing.
Veronica's hand tightened around Adrian's. "Maybe it's time you stop pretending you belong in our world. You're just a loser now, Selene. Better crawl into some hole and hide for the rest of your miserable life—"
Before Veronica could finish her sentence, Selene grabbed a glass of champagne and splashed it right over Veronica's face.
A sudden silence settled around the bar.
No one dared to offend Veronica.
Her wet face twisted in anger, and then, she shouted, "CALL THE MANAGER! RIGHT NOW!"
Jamie hurried like his pants were on fire, and the moment he saw the scene, his expression turned grim.
"Selene! What have you done?!"
Selene let out a trembling breath. The manager had never batted an eye when the elite customers of the bar humiliated her, treated her like trash—and now, he had the nerve to yell at her?
When she said nothing, Jamie, her stepmother's brother, commanded haughtily.
"Get on your knees and apologize, brat! How dare you make our customers uncomfortable? Don't forget your place! You're only a Sinclair in name!"
Selene laughed. It wasn't even bitter—it was just absurd.
"You want me to apologize?"
"Now, Sinclair, or you're out." He scoffed.
Selene grabbed the nearest glass, filled it with liquor on the counter, and in one swift motion, tossed it in Jamie's face.
Gasps filled the club. Jamie sputtered, his face turning red. "You little—"
But Selene was already gone, storming out of the club, out into the rain, the storm raging as fiercely as she felt inside.
"Perfect," she muttered bitterly, her soaked uniform clinging to her skin as thunder rumbled in the distance.
Then, her phone rang.
"Nanny?" she answered hesitantly.
The older woman's voice was hushed, urgent. "Selene, my dear, I don't know how to tell you this but… Bianca—she's pregnant."
Selene stopped walking. "What?"
"Your father… he's already declared the baby the new heir."
The words crashed into her like a wave. A ringing filled her ears. Her hands trembled.
The nanny added solemnly, "I am afraid to tell you this, my child. But it seems like Bianca will never let you be part of the family again."
Selene froze.
So that was it.
All these years, she had clung to the idea that her father's test had an end. That he still saw her as his daughter. That there was still a future for her.
But no.
She had been discarded a long time ago.
Her breath hitched. The sky cracked open with a roar, lightning flashing above.
"Why?" she whispered, looking up at the heavens. "What did I do to deserve this?"
As if in answer, the sky burned white.
CRACK!
Pain seared through her body, burning every part of her flesh—her thoughts were fractured as she collapsed on the wet pavement. A faint wisp of smoke rose from her body.
A soft, soothing voice echoed through her mind.
[System Initializing…]
[Initialization in process…]
.
.
[The System has been activated!]
[Congratulations, host! You have been chosen by the Wealth Domination System!]
And then, there was darkness.