“You’re my soulmate,” my sister said, her voice cutting through the room. the chatter fell silent, and i felt all eyes move to me. my husband pulled his hand away too late, his face pale as i stared him down. then he whispered something i’ll never forget…
BROKEN SOULS
Our villa in Southampton sparkled like a giant diamond in the snowy Christmas night. Inside, the scent of red pine mingled with the aroma of expensive wine and the perfume of glamorous evening gowns. Everything was perfect—just as Julian and I had built this marriage over the past ten years.
I leaned against the marble bar, gently swirling a crystal glass. Julian stood beside me, his hand resting lightly on my waist, a tender, possessive gesture he always made. Across from us, my sister—Clara—stood on a small platform, a glass of champagne in hand, preparing for her traditional speech.
Clara was always the center of attention. She was radiant, sharp, and capable of controlling the atmosphere of the room with just a smirk.
“Ladies,” Clara’s voice rang out, warm and captivating. “Today isn’t just Christmas. Today marks the tenth anniversary of Elena and Julian finding each other. A decade of devotion.”
A resounding round of applause erupted. I smiled, looking at Julian. He still maintained the calm demeanor of a top Manhattan lawyer, but I noticed his jaw tighten slightly. Perhaps he was tired from his flight from London that had landed this morning.
Clara descended a step, approaching us. Her eyes sparkled with a strange light, a mixture of affection and subtle challenge. She looked directly at me, then shifted her gaze to Julian for a moment longer than usual.
“You are my soulmate,” my sister said, her voice echoing throughout the room, drowning out the soft jazz music.
The space suddenly froze. The conversation, the clinking of knives and forks against porcelain plates, abruptly ceased. There was something in Clara’s tone—an overassertiveness, a frantic possessiveness—that made the surrounding guests begin to glance at each other.
In that moment, I felt all eyes on me. But I didn’t look at them. I looked down at Julian’s hand.
Beneath the white silk tablecloth, I saw his hand withdraw from Clara’s skirt. Too late. I had seen his fingertips touch the back of her hand, a contact that was not accidental.
Julian’s face was pale. The crystal chandelier reflected off his face, highlighting the horror evident in his usually confident eyes. He looked at me, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Clara remained standing, her smile unchanged, but it no longer held that warmth. It looked like a cut on a wax statue.
Julian tilted his head, leaning close to my ear. His breath was icy cold, a stark contrast to its usual warmth. He whispered something I’ll never forget, something that shattered my entire world in a second:
“Run, Elena. She’s not Clara.”
Climax: The Truth Behind the Mask
My heart stopped. I looked at the woman standing before me. Still the same golden hair, still the same little mole near her left eye, still the same tanzanite necklace our father had given us before he died.
“What are you saying, Julian?” I stammered, my voice trembling.
Julian didn’t answer. He grabbed my wrist, intending to pull me toward the back door, but the crowd of guests suddenly surged forward, surrounding us like a human wall. They weren’t smiling anymore. The faces of close friends, long-time business partners, were now expressionless, cold.
“Who is she?” I shouted, staring at the woman who called herself Clara.
The woman set down her glass of wine. She slowly removed the necklace, revealing a faint scar running along her collarbone—a scar Clara truly never had.
“Ten years, Elena,” the woman said, her voice now deeper, no longer trying to mimic my sister’s. “Ten years I’ve played this role. Ten years waiting for your father’s will to take full effect tonight.”
I recoiled, bumping into Julian. But as I touched him, I felt a cold, hard object pressed against my hip. It was a small gun Julian had hidden in his vest pocket.
“Julian?” I whispered, hoping he would protect me.
But Julian didn’t look at me. He looked at the other woman. “We agreed on this after tonight, Sarah. You’re ruining the plan.”
My blood froze. Sarah? The plan?
Julian released my hand. He stepped up and stood beside the woman. The pallor on his face just now wasn’t from fear of being caught cheating, but from realizing that “Sarah” had ruined their plan.
“You… you and her?” I choked. “Where is the real Clara?”
Julian looked at me with pity—the cruelest light a husband could give his wife. “Clara never left Switzerland ten years ago, Elena. That skiing accident… she didn’t survive. But if she died, the entire trust fund would go to charities. I need a wife with assets, and Sarah needs a new life.”
“So you staged this whole thing?” I looked around. Those guests—who were they?
“They are…”
“They’re hired people,” Sarah—the Clara imposter—shruged. “Everything she sees, from the parties to her close friends, is part of an ecosystem designed to keep her in a safe glass cage.” “She just needs to be beautiful, do charity work, and sign the papers Julian gives her.”
A Sudden Twist: The Hunter and the Prey
I looked at the two men in front of me, a wave of nausea rising. But then, amidst utter despair, a cold current ran down my spine. I started to laugh. My laughter was discordant, initially tiny, then growing louder, causing Julian and Sarah to frown.
“Why are you laughing?” Julian asked, his grip on the gun tightening.
I wiped away my tears, straightening up. The weakness, the trembling, vanished in an instant. I walked toward the bar, calmly pouring myself another glass of wine.
“Julian,” I said, my voice strangely calm. “You’re a good lawyer, but you’ve forgotten a fundamental principle of risk management.”
I looked at Sarah. “You’re right, Clara died in Switzerland. But you’re wrong about one thing.” “She’s not the only one playing a role.”
I pulled a tiny, thumb-sized, black remote control from my small handbag.
“Do you think I’m a doll in a glass cage? Do you think I didn’t notice how much my sister changed the first week she walked into the house?”
Julian’s face changed color. “What did you say?”
“I’ve known for ten years,” I took a sip of wine, its bitterness perfectly balanced. “But I need you. I need Julian to handle the company’s dirty legal issues, and I need a ‘Clara’ to act as a shield against the media. You think you’re taking advantage of me? No.” “I used my fortune to feed you all like hunting dogs.”
I pressed a button on the remote. The electronic door locks of the entire mansion clicked simultaneously. Click. Click. Click.
“Tonight, when the trust is fully transferred, I no longer need you,” I smiled, a smile that even Sarah shuddered at. “The police are on their way here. Not because of this scam. But because Clara’s body is actually in the wine cellar of this house—where I brought her back from Switzerland ten years ago.”
Julian’s face turned a deathly pale. “You… you brought her body back?”
“Why? So that today, I can accuse you two of murdering her to seize her fortune.” “All the evidence, from Julian’s fingerprints on the poison vial to Sarah’s blackmail letters, I’d had prepared since last year.”
The sirens of police cars began to blare in the distance, tearing through the tranquil Hamptons night.
“You’re my soulmate,” I repeated Sarah’s words, but gazed into the distance. “Yes. Only a soulmate knows how to bury each other properly.”
Julian lunged toward me, but it was too late. FBI agents had burst through the door. Amidst the chaotic flashing lights and shouts, I stood there, alone in the opulent room, finding the slight chill of the snow outside pleasant.
The play was over. And I, the only survivor of my own truth, was finally free.
At my daughter’s 5th birthday party, my husband got down on his knees—but not to propose again. He held out a box… containing a DNA test request form… and what happened next was beyond my wildest imagination…
Our Mediterranean-style villa was brightly lit. Today was my daughter Mia’s fifth birthday. The lush green lawn was decorated like a wonderland with thousands of imported roses, a rather enormous castle, and waiters swaggering around with trays of fine Champagne.
I, Sarah, stood on the balcony looking down. I wore a cream-colored silk dress, smiling as I greeted the guests – all my husband’s business partners, local politicians, and, of course, the prestigious Sterling family.
My husband, Robert Sterling, is the sole heir to the Sterling Real Estate Group. He’s handsome, charming, and ruthless in business. Our marriage was considered a model: a rich prince and a clever Cinderella (I was a lawyer before we got married).
But for the past six months, Robert had changed. He was cold, often away from home, and frequently hinted that I was “unworthy” of the Sterling family. I knew he was plotting something. But I didn’t expect him to choose today to bring it all to a close.
“Everyone, please pay attention!” Robert’s voice boomed through the microphone.
The music stopped. The crowd fell silent. Robert stood in the middle of the stage, holding Mia’s hand, who was wearing a princess dress. He looked at me, his eyes devoid of any love, only the triumph of a hunter cornering his prey.
“Today is a special day,” Robert said, his voice feigning emotion. “And I want to give Sarah, my beloved wife, a surprise gift.”
Robert knelt down.
The crowd gasped. The ladies whispered, “Oh my God, he’s proposing again? How romantic!”
My heart pounded. Not with happiness. But with a premonition that something terribly bad was about to happen.
Robert didn’t pull out the ring box. He pulled out a flat wooden box, about the size of an A4 sheet of paper.
He opened the box and pulled out a piece of paper bearing the red seal of GeneTech Genetics Laboratory.
“Sarah,” Robert said, his voice sharp, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “I’ve always wondered why Mia has brown eyes, while the Sterling family has had blue eyes for four generations. And I’ve found the answer.”
He held up the paper.
“DNA test results: Probability of paternity: 0%.”
Silence hung heavy in the room. Glasses fell to the floor. My mother-in-law, Victoria Sterling—the iron woman of the family—rose from her VIP seat, her face drained of color.
“You deceived me,” Robert roared, playing the role of a cuckolded husband brilliantly. “You deceived this whole family for gold! Mia is not my daughter! You are a slut!”
He threw the paper in my face.
“According to the ethical clause in the prenuptial agreement,” Robert declared emphatically, turning to his lawyer who was standing nearby. “Adultery and paternity fraud will cost Sarah everything. She will leave empty-handed. No alimony. No home. And of course, I will not raise this illegitimate child.”
Mia began to cry in fear. I rushed off the stage, hugging my daughter.
The crowd began to murmur and point. Eyes of contempt were fixed on me. Robert stood there, arms crossed, a half-smile on his face. He had won. He had gotten rid of me to get his mistress, and he kept his entire $500 million fortune.
Or so he thought.
I didn’t cry. I stood up, adjusted Mia’s dress, and handed her to the nanny to take her inside.
I picked up the DNA test results. I glanced at them. It was indeed GeneTech’s signature. It was indeed Robert Sterling and Mia Sterling’s names on the file.
I walked to the microphone. Robert tried to snatch it back, but I gave him such a cold stare that he recoiled.
“Robert,” I said, my voice strangely calm. “When did you take this sample?”
“Last week,” Robert sneered. “When you dropped Mia off at school, I took her toothbrush. Don’t deny it. The sample was sealed and sent directly to the lab.”
“Are you sure it’s Mia’s toothbrush?”
“Absolutely 100%. Pink, with Princess Elsa on it, in her bathroom.”
I nodded, then turned to Victoria Sterling.
“Mother,” I said. “Do you remember last week, when my father-in-law – William – visited and stayed overnight?”
Victoria frowned, a flicker of worry in her eyes. “So what?”
“Mia dropped her toothbrush in the toilet,” I explained slowly. “So I threw it away. That night, Mia used a new toothbrush. And the next morning, her father, William – who is always forgetting his reading glasses – accidentally used her pink toothbrush because he left his at home.”
Robert’s face changed color. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
“I’m not talking nonsense, Robert. I know what you’re plotting. I saw your messages with your lawyer about trying to get me kicked out. I knew you were going to secretly take a DNA sample. So I left that toothbrush there. The toothbrush your father, William Sterling, used.”
I held the paper up high.
“You sent that toothbrush sample for testing, comparing it to your own blood sample. You think you’re knitting…”
“They compared Father (Robert) and Daughter (Mia).”
I paused, letting the truth sink in.
“But in reality, the lab compared Robert and Mr. William.”
The entire auditorium held its breath. Victoria staggered, clinging to her chair.
“And what’s the result?” I read aloud the fateful words. “Probability of paternity: 0%.”
The gasp of horror was ten times louder than before.
“This doesn’t mean Mia isn’t your daughter,” I looked directly into Robert’s eyes, who was trembling. “This means YOU are not William Sterling’s biological son.”
Robert froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He had just personally revealed the proof that he was… an illegitimate child.
“Mother…” Robert turned to Victoria. “Tell her she’s lying!” “He’s the spitting image of his father!”
But Victoria couldn’t say anything. She was crying. Her silence was the clearest answer.
Thirty-five years ago, Victoria Sterling – then a young lady neglected by her husband – had a fleeting affair with the family’s horse trainer. She kept that secret buried, raising Robert as the rightful heir to the Sterling empire.
Until today. Until her own son’s greed and cruelty unearthed that secret.
“The Sterling Trust’s inheritance clause,” I continued, my voice cold as a judge pronouncing a verdict. “It stipulates that only those directly related to William Sterling by blood are entitled to inherit and run the corporation. Otherwise, all assets will be donated to charity.”
I looked at Robert, who had just lost $500 million in five minutes because he wanted to harm his wife.
“You want to use DNA to strip me and Mia of our rights?” “Congratulations, Robert. You’ve just deprived yourself of your rights. You’re no longer a Sterling. You’re left with nothing.”
Robert went berserk. He lunged at me. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!”
But the security team – hired to protect the “Sterling family” – quickly intervened. They restrained Robert. On whose orders? On the orders of the corporation’s chief lawyer, who had just realized his client was an imposter.
My father-in-law, William Sterling, emerged from the house. He had heard everything over the loudspeaker. He was old and frail, leaning on a cane, but his eyes, as he looked at Victoria and Robert, were filled with disappointment and pain.
“Get out of here,” William said softly. “Both of you.”
“Dad!” “I’m your son!” Robert screamed.
“That paper says no,” William pointed to the DNA test results lying on the grass. “And I believe science more than I believe my wife who deceived me for 35 years.”
Robert was dragged out of the front gate, screaming in despair.
The party was in ruins. Guests left in shock. Victoria slumped into a chair, covering her face and weeping.
William came over to me. He looked at me, then towards the house where Mia was playing, unaware of the storm.
“Sarah,” he said, his voice trembling. “And Mia? Is she…is she really my granddaughter?”
I smiled sadly. I pulled another piece of paper from my purse.
“I had my own test done last week, Dad.” “By proper blood sample, at the university hospital.”
I handed him the paper.
Test results: Mia Sterling and William Sterling. Relationship: Not related by blood.
William’s shoulders slumped. He had lost everything. His son, and now his granddaughter.
“But,” I continued, taking his wrinkled hand. “Mia loves you. She’s called you Grandpa since she was a toddler. I don’t care who Robert is, or what blood flows in her veins. I only know that you’re the only one in this house who truly loves Mia.”
“I won’t fight for the inheritance,” I said. “I have a job, I can support Mia. But I want you to know the truth. Robert intends to abandon Mia because he suspects she’s not his child (even though she is his and my biological daughter). He’s willing to sacrifice his daughter for money.” “As for me, I’m ready to expose the truth to protect her honor.”
Mr. William looked at me, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked at the test results confirming Robert was illegitimate, then at the test results confirming Mia wasn’t his granddaughter.
He tore both papers up.
“Call the lawyer,” Mr. William said to the butler. “I want to amend my will.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Robert isn’t my son. He won’t get a penny,” he said sharply. “But Mia… I’ve held her since she was a baby. I taught her to ride a bicycle. I read her bedtime stories. What does blood matter? She’s my granddaughter.”
He looked straight into my eyes.
“I’ll leave everything to Mia. And you, Sarah, you’ll be her guardian until she’s 18. Get rid of Robert and his deceitful mother.” “Make this place a real family.”
I hugged William tightly.
Outside, police sirens blared. Robert was trying to break back in and had been arrested for trespassing.
He wanted to use a DNA box to destroy my life. But he forgot the most basic principle: Never open a box. Pandora’s box if you yourself are also full of demons.
