The Hidden Daughter-From Abandoned Small-Town Girl to Wall Street Legend Chapter 04
My mind drifted back to the last thing Mom had told me that day.
“I’ve remarried. My husband is a fund manager on Wall Street. Our daughter is about to start at Stanford—bright, charming, the light of our family.”
I pulled up the summit’s attendee list. Sure enough, Mom and Sophia’s names were right there.
They were attending as James’s plus-ones.
I studied his profile. Mid-forties, same title as me—and honestly, not even as accomplished.
For five years, I hadn’t slept more than five hours a night. I’d memorized every inch of my field; my boss could flip to any random page and I could recite the whole thing from memory. I knew every client’s preferences down to the smallest detail, and every one of them gave me glowing reviews. Some even told me outright: wherever I went, their money followed.
That, I supposed, was how a twenty-three-year-old ended up standing in front of them all.
On the third day of the summit, the evening gala was held at Stanford.
I walked in wearing a tailored black gown and four-inch heels, flanked by some of the biggest names in finance. The dress was custom-made—bought with my very first year-end bonus, six people dispatched to my apartment for the fitting. My surname was stitched along the neckline in gold thread: SUE.
In the center of the ballroom, I spotted Mom.
She looked a little older than she had five years ago, but she still wore an expensive dress and that perfectly composed smile. Sophia was at her side, laughing with a group of classmates.
I picked up a glass of champagne and wove through the crowd, passing within arm’s length of them.
Mom’s gaze drifted toward me—curious, idle—and then the color drained from her face.
“What are you doing here?”
She grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me toward the exit. “I don’t know how you found this place, but you need to leave. Now. Stop disrupting my life.”
I didn’t say a word. I just smiled.
Work had taught me the value of a polite expression. Whether you’re dealing with a yapping dog or someone making a scene at the grocery store, a smile is all you need.
“Holly! Say something!”
Her tugging drew attention. A few people nearby leaned in, murmuring, asking if everything was alright. Sophia darted to her mother’s side like a startled chick guarding the nest.
Mom barely glanced at me before turning to the onlookers. “This girl is a thief,” she announced. “She stole my necklace. I was just trying to talk some sense into her.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
I could feel the contempt settling on me like a physical weight—all those eyes, sharp with disgust. Someone flagged down security. They were going to take me to the police.
“Wait!” Mom hadn’t expected things to escalate this far. She held up a hand, her voice softening into something almost charitable. “She’s young. If she just returns the necklace, we can let it go.”
Before the words had finished leaving her mouth, Sophia stepped forward, swung her arm, and slapped me hard across the face.
“Thief! Give my mom’s stuff back!”
I pressed my hand to my stinging cheek, stunned—not by the pain, but by the sheer audacity of the girl Mom had raised.
And then, strangely, something shifted. That pressure I’d been carrying for years, that suffocating weight in my chest, seemed to dissolve.
So this is what it comes down to. This is all there is.
A cold laugh escaped my lips just as I heard my English name being called from the stage.
I straightened my dress and turned to go, but Sophia grabbed the hem of my gown.
“You haven’t given back my mom’s stuff! You’re not going anywhere!”
The crowd tightened around me, a wall of pointing fingers and overlapping voices in a dozen different languages, loud enough to make my head pound.
I was just about to speak when a staff member pushed through the ring of spectators, slightly out of breath.
“Sue, you’re on.”
Without so much as a glance at my mother standing frozen beside me, I followed the staffer up to the stage.
The microphone felt cool in my hand. I found the woman in the crowd and held her gaze.
“Today, I’d like to tell you all a story.”
“A story about how I was abandoned by my mother—and how I ended up standing right here.”
Below me, every drop of color vanished from Mom’s face.
