Falling For The True Heiress

~~~~~ Amelia POV ~~~~~

"What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Albert?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together.

Mr. Albert adjusted the files in his hands but didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted to Sylvia. I followed it.

Sylvia suddenly looked everywhere except at me. She rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding my eyes as if she already knew what I was about to ask.

"Sylvia," I called.

She slowly looked up. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then she let out a small sigh and lowered her eyes.

"...Because I asked him to."

My brows knitted together. "...Asked him to do what?"

She drew in a slow breath and looked up. "I asked Dad to transfer the shares to you."

I stared at her. My brows knitted together.

"But..."

"Why?" I asked with a frown.

~~~~~ Flashback (Third-Person POV) ~~~~~

"You don’t need to think about it, Dad."

Amelia said as she stood up from the sofa before anyone could respond.

"It already belongs to Sylvia."

Without waiting for another word, she turned and walked upstairs.

The living room fell quiet.

Stella smacked Mr. Winston lightly on the arm. "Why would you bring this up now? Of all the times you could have chosen." She said.

Mr. Winston leaned back against the sofa and rubbed his temple with two fingers.

"I only brought it up because someone has to take responsibility for the company."

Sylvia watched Amelia disappear upstairs before looking back at her parents.

"Dad," Sylvia called, looking from him to Stella.

"I don’t think you should transfer the company to me."

Mr. Winston frowned. "Why would you say that?"

Sylvia leaned back against the sofa and crossed her arms across her chest. "Because I’m not interested in running a company."

Mrs. Stella smiled gently and reached for Sylvia’s hand. "You don’t have to say that, sweetheart."

She gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And don’t worry about Amelia."

"She isn’t as cold as she pretends to be."

Mrs. Stella glanced toward the staircase. "She’s just... still adjusting."

"We spoiled her. Protected her," Stella said with a smile.

"And besides us, the only person she’s ever truly let into her life is Camila."

Sylvia smiled. "Mom, that’s not what I meant."

She looked back at her father. "I really don’t want anything to do with the company."

"Let Amelia handle everything."

"She’s been preparing for it since she was little."

She began counting on her fingers. "I just want to cook, eat, read my books, binge my favorite web novels..."

She counted each one on her fingers before suddenly glancing toward the staircase. A soft smile appeared on her lips.

"And I like staying close to Amelia the most."

Mr. and Mrs. Winston exchanged amused smiles.

Mr. Winston chuckled. "Alright."

"If that’s what you want, I’ll respect it."

Then his smile slowly faded.

"But..."

"I don’t think Amelia will accept it."

Sylvia blinked. "Why?"

Mr. Winston sighed. "Because Amelia doesn’t accept things she believes are given out of pity or sympathy."

"If she thinks someone is sacrificing something for her..."

"She’ll reject it immediately."

Stella nodded in agreement. "That’s true."

"She only accepts what she believes she’s earned."

Sylvia fell silent for a few moments. Then a slow smile curved her lips. "I like this version of her too."

Mrs. Stella tilted her head. "Hm? What do you mean?"

Sylvia only smiled wider. "Don’t worry, Mom."

"I’ll handle Amelia."

~~~~~ End of Flashback ~~~~~

I slowly tilted my head, still looking at Sylvia again. She was smiling at me.

No...

Not smiling. She had completely zoned out.

"Hey."

I waved a hand in front of her face. "Answer me."

She blinked immediately, as though snapping back to reality, then quickly looked away.

I sighed and turned to Mr. Albert instead.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Albert." I glanced at Dad before looking back at him. "Can we postpone this until my dad wakes up?"

Mr. Albert gave a respectful nod. "Of course, Miss."

Without another word, he picked up his briefcase, gave a small bow, and quietly left the room.

The soft click of the door echoed behind him.

Now, only Dad, Sylvia, and I remained. I turned back to Sylvia.

"Why—"

Before I could finish, she gently pressed her index finger against my lips.

I froze. My eyes instinctively dropped to her hand.

Her index finger was long and slender, with neatly trimmed nails.

...Wait.

Why am I looking at her fingers?

I quickly forced myself to look up. Our eyes met, and she was smiling, a warm, quiet smile.

For a second, everything around us seemed to disappear. I forgot what I had been about to say.

Then—

Knock!

Knock!

The sharp sound against the door snapped me back to reality.

I immediately pulled back, putting a little distance between us just as the door opened.

My heartbeat was racing so hard I could hear it pounding inside my ears.

I frowned. "Damn it..."

"Betrayer," I muttered under my breath, glaring at my own heart.

The door opened and a young nurse walked into the room.

She was petite, with blonde hair neatly tucked beneath her nursing cap. Her crisp white uniform was spotless, and she carried a stainless-steel tray holding a fresh IV bag, a syringe, cotton wool, antiseptic, and a patient’s chart.

The faint scent of disinfectant drifted through the room as she approached.

I watched her every single step, every movement and glance.

I didn’t trust anyone anymore. Not after today. Not even the doctors. No one at all.

She walked past me and stopped on the other side of Dad’s bed. My eyes never left her.

"Miss," she said politely, "I’m here to change your father’s IV."

I didn’t answer. I only gave her a silent nod.

She carefully removed the empty drip bag, placing it on the tray. Then she hung a fresh bag on the stand and adjusted the tubing until the clear fluid began dripping steadily again.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

She checked the flow once more before writing a few notes in the chart she was carrying. Satisfied, she closed the folder.

After making sure everything was in order, she looked up briefly.

"Everything looks fine," she said with a small smile.

Then she picked up her tray, turned around, and quietly left the room. Only after the door clicked shut did I finally look away.

If someone really wanted Dad dead...

They wouldn’t stop after one attempt.

Sylvia stared at me. "Are you suspecting Dad’s accident?" Sylvia asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

I immediately looked up at her. "How do you know?" I asked.

She pressed her lips together and let out a slow breath. Without answering, she uncrossed her arms, walked over to the sofa, and sat down. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back comfortably.

"Because you’re acting weird," Sylvia said.

Her eyes settled on mine. "So tell me."

"Do you think Dad’s accident wasn’t an accident?"

My gaze drifted back to the hospital bed. Dad lay exactly as he had before.

The green line on the monitor rose and fell with mechanical precision.

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

I tightened my grip around his hand. "Yes."

The word came out almost as a whisper. "Dad never gets into accidents. Let alone a fatal accident like this."

"He has security. Experienced drivers."

"And also every route is planned in advance."

I swallowed. "So if something like this happened. It means someone made it happen."

"And I think..."

I paused, then looked back at Sylvia. "We have people inside our house."

She didn’t look surprised. Sylvia nodded as if none of it surprised her.

I frowned. "You don’t seem worried."

She met my eyes. "I’m not."

The calmness in her voice irritated me more than I expected.

"What do you mean you’re not?" I demanded. "Why would you say something like that?" I asked, my voice rising slightly.

A faint smirk appeared on Sylvia’s lips.

She looked away for a second before looking back at me.

"Our dad is lying in a hospital bed, and you’re telling me you’re not worried?" I asked, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

"Minnie."

She said my nickname so gently it almost made me forget how cold her expression had become.

"If you’re going to play with fire..."

"You need skin thick enough to survive the burn."

I stared at her. She leaned back, her fingers resting lazily on the armrest.

"The biggest mistake people make..."

"...is letting their enemies know they’ve been discovered."

"And in doing that... they warn the very people they’re trying to catch."

Her voice remained calm as her fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.

"You don’t expose your hand. You have to smile."

"You pretend everything is normal. And you let them believe they’re winning."

She paused. Her eyes darkened slightly. "Then..."

"When they finally lower their guard..." A small devilish smile slowly spread across her lips.

"You strike and destroy them."

The room suddenly felt colder. The only sound left was Dad’s heart monitor.

I simply stared at her, speechless. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It suddenly hit me how little I actually knew about Sylvia.

I’d always seen her as the gentle one. The girl who loved cooking. The one who curled up with webnovels for hours.

She smiled easily. She spoke softly. She avoided conflict whenever she could.

But the Sylvia sitting in front of me now...

She still looked gentle.

She still smiled softly.

She still spoke in that calm, quiet voice.

But now I could see what had always been hidden beneath it.

Beneath that angelic face...

Was someone far more dangerous than I had ever imagined.

Not because she was angry. Because she wasn’t. She looked calm. And somehow...

That was much more terrifying.

For the first time, I realized something.

Maybe the quietest person in the room...

Was also the most dangerous.

An angel...

With the mind of a devil.

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