The Gala Orphan’s Twin Shocks a Diamond Mogul When She Lifts Her Wrist

The gala dissolved into chaos around us. People whispered, phones came out, but I only saw my sister's face. Charlotte was crying, and I was crying, and we were both laughing at the same time. Lorenzo and Sofia kept touching us, like we might disappear.

"How is this possible?" Lorenzo kept saying. "We adopted Charlotte from an orphanage in Paris six years ago. We were told she had no family."

Sofia was shaking. "Your birthmark—the star-rose. It's the Moretti family crest, only passed to blood heirs. When we saw it on Charlotte, we knew she was ours. But you—" She cupped my face. "You have it too. You're our daughter."

Constance’s Secret Was Written All Over Her Face

My head spun. I had always known I was adopted, but the orphanage had told me my parents died in a fire. Yet here was a mother, a father, a sister. And the woman who had tried to throw me out was pale as death, inching toward the exit.

"Constance," Lorenzo called, his voice sharp. "You were the academy's liaison for the orphanage. You handled our adoption."

She stopped, her back stiff. "I don't know what you're implying."

"I'm implying nothing," he said. "I'm asking. Why did you tell us Charlotte had no twin?"

Constance turned, her face composed, but her hands were shaking. "There must have been a mistake. Records get lost."

"Records don't get lost," Sofia said, stepping forward. "Not for a family like ours. You told us that you had personally verified Charlotte's lineage."

I watched Constance's facade crack. Her eyes darted to me, then to the medallion still clutched in my hand. "That medallion," she said slowly. "Where did you get it?"

"My mother gave it to the orphanage," I said. "She left it with me when she… when she died."

Constance laughed, a brittle sound. "Your mother didn't die. She abandoned you. She was a maid in my house, and she ran off with a married man—Lorenzo's brother, actually. She was paid to disappear."

The room went silent. Lorenzo's face turned ashen. "My brother? He died ten years ago in a car crash."

"Yes," Constance said, a cruel smile spreading. "And his mistress—your mother—took the money I gave her and left you at an orphanage. But she kept the medallion, didn't she? She kept the proof that you were a Moretti."

Sofia staggered back. "You knew. All this time, you knew there was another child, and you didn't tell us."

"I told you what was convenient," Constance snapped. "You wanted a daughter. I gave you one. The other one was a liability."

My hands balled into fists. "You paid my mother to leave me?"

"I paid her to leave the country," Constance said. "She refused to take you with her. Said you'd be better off without her. I arranged your placement at St. Mary's, and I made sure no one ever looked for you."

"That's kidnapping," Lorenzo growled. "That's fraud. You'll go to prison for this."

Constance laughed again, but it was shaky. "You can't prove anything. I'll deny everything. And even if you try, I have connections—"

"I have a recording," Sofia said, pulling out her phone. "I've been recording this entire conversation. Along with the video from the gala last night, and the testimony of three staff members who remember you paying a woman with a baby."

Constance's face went white. For the first time, she looked truly afraid. "You wouldn't."

"I would," Sofia said. "And I will."

Security moved in, but Constance didn't resist. She just stared at me, her eyes full of hatred. "You ruined everything," she hissed. "You were supposed to stay hidden."

I didn't flinch. "I was looking for my twin," I said. "And I found her. You can't take that away."