The Gift from My Brothers for My Birthday Was My Mother’s Broken Bangle Chapter 06

The Gift from My Brothers for My Birthday Was My Mother’s Broken Bangle Chapter 06

When I woke again, I was not aboard a private medical jet bound for Stonecrop Behavioral Institute.

I was in a quiet bedroom furnished in dark wood and understated antiques.

The air carried a faint cedar-and-bergamot scent, and even the temperature had been set exactly to my liking.

“Awake?”

A deep, controlled voice came from across the room.

I turned my head and found a man seated in the shadows.

Blaise Harcourt.

The heir to Harcourt Capital, and the one corporate rival my three brothers feared most.

I pushed myself upright. My throat was still dry from the sedative.

“Since when does Mr. Harcourt intercept private medical transfers?”

Blaise rose and crossed the room, handing me a glass of warm water.

It was exactly 98.6 degrees.

“Your brothers must have lost their minds. They were ready to have their own sister committed.”

His mouth curved faintly.

“I happened to be nearby, so I took advantage of the opportunity.”

His gaze settled on me, dark with amusement.

“How does it feel to be discarded by your own family, Miss Rivington?”

I took a sip. The warmth eased the raw ache in my throat.

“You don’t need to worry about my feelings.”

I looked him in the eye.

“You saved me. Name your price.”

Blaise gave a quiet laugh and tossed a document onto the bed.

“I want proxy voting control over your twenty-percent stake in Rivington Group.”

“In return, I’ll give you every resource you need.”

His expression sharpened.

“Including what it takes to remove that fraud calling herself Pippa Wren.”

My hand stopped halfway through turning the first page.

“Fraud?”

Blaise pulled a chair closer and sat, crossing one leg over the other.

“Malcolm Wren’s real daughter died ten years ago in a landslide.”

“The woman your brothers brought home is a career con artist with a reconstructed face.”

I studied the investigation report.

It included photographs, court records, financial transfers, and a timeline detailed enough to leave no room for doubt.

A laugh escaped me.

My brothers had always considered themselves impossible to deceive.

Yet they had been manipulated by a woman whose story collapsed under the slightest scrutiny.

“Deal.”

I signed the proxy agreement without hesitation.

For the next month, I stayed quietly at Harcourt Estate.

No one outside the property knew where I was.

The Rivingtons announced that I had gone abroad for an extended art residency.

Meanwhile, Pippa moved into my bedroom, wore my couture, and helped herself to my jewelry.

My brothers even installed her as the acting creative lead on a major Rivington collection.

One month later, the annual Marroway Jewelry Prize was held in Wexley.

It was the competition I had spent the past year preparing for.

Blaise handed me a heavy cream invitation embossed with gold lettering.

“Your devoted brothers spent a great deal of money making sure their little fraud would be noticed.”

He tapped the invitation.

“Pippa pieced together a collection from the fragments of your destroyed sketches and entered it under her own name.”

I took the invitation and stared at Pippa Wren printed across the card.

My lips curved coldly.

“She really thought stealing from me would be that easy?”

That evening, Pippa arrived at the Ralston Conservatory in a couture gown, her arm looped through Dashiell’s.

Ames and Tiernan walked beside them, looking every bit as proud as if she had already won.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Ames said. “The Marroway is yours.”

Pippa lowered her head with a shy smile.

“I only drew what I felt. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Her expression softened.

“I wish Romilly were here. I would’ve loved for her to see the collection.”

Dashiell’s face darkened.

“Don’t mention her. Tonight is about you.”

At that moment, the ballroom lights dimmed.

A spotlight swept across the second-floor staircase.

I appeared at the top in a vivid red gown, my arm resting through Blaise’s.

Together, we descended the curved staircase.

Conversation died throughout the ballroom.

Every head turned.

The second Pippa saw me, her smile froze. Her champagne glass slipped from her fingers and shattered against the floor.

My three brothers went rigid.

“Romy?” Dashiell said, disbelief roughening his voice.

I stopped in front of them and let my gaze settle on Pippa’s bloodless face.

“I heard someone entered this competition using my discarded work.”

Pippa’s eyes immediately filled with tears. She reached into her purse and pulled out a notarized intellectual-property assignment.

“Miss Rivington, you’ve misunderstood.”

She held up the document with trembling fingers.

“You signed these designs over to me yourself.”

Her wounded gaze met mine.

“It’s all here in writing. How can you take it back now?”