From Blood Bank To Billionaire's Obsession

Richard's palm sliced through the air, aiming directly for Alanis's cheek.

Before the blow could land, a rapid burst of blinding white light exploded from the shadows across the street. The paparazzi had arrived.

The sudden flash blinded Richard for a fraction of a second, causing his swing to hesitate.

Alanis didn't block his hand. She simply took a precise, half-step backward.

The heavy slap caught nothing but empty air.

She knew exactly how this game was played. If she broke his arm here, the headlines tomorrow would frame her as a violent, deranged teenager attacking her generous benefactor.

Seeing the cameras, Eleanor instantly switched tactics. She lunged forward and grabbed Richard's arm, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Oh, Richard, stop!" Eleanor wailed, her voice trembling with perfectly practiced heartbreak. She turned her tear-streaked face toward the flashing cameras. "She ruined Bridgette's engagement night! She tried to destroy her sister's happiness!"

The whispers from the gathering crowd grew louder. Disgusted glares were thrown in Alanis's direction.

Alanis stood alone under the harsh streetlamp. The oversized men's jacket made her look small, but her posture was straight as a steel rod.

She let Eleanor finish her pathetic performance. She waited until the murmurs of the crowd reached a fever pitch.

Then, Alanis let out a low, piercing laugh.

The sound was like an ice pick driving into Richard and Eleanor's eardrums. They both froze, staring at her in shock.

Alanis took a slow, deliberate step forward. The sheer oppressive weight of her presence forced Eleanor to take a step back.

"If Appalachia is so disgusting to you," Alanis spoke. Her voice wasn't loud, but her diction was flawless, carrying clearly over the street noise. "Why did you spend millions of dollars to track me down and bring me here?"

Eleanor's eyes darted nervously. She stammered, "B-because we are a family of charity! We wanted to give you love!"

"Love?" Alanis cut her off, her voice dripping with venom. She rattled off a string of dates and medical codes with mechanical precision. "October 14th. Mount Sinai Private Wing. Procedure code 38240."

She stared dead into Eleanor's terrified eyes. "I am not your daughter. I am Bridgette's living blood bank."

A collective gasp ripped through the crowd of socialites.

"Three years ago, you drained half the life out of my body so your precious Bridgette could have her secret bone marrow transplant," Alanis stated coldly.

The paparazzi surged forward like sharks smelling blood. Camera lenses were shoved into the Copelands' faces.

Richard's face turned the color of ash. "She's lying! She's a lunatic!" he screamed, waving his hands frantically.

"Am I?" Alanis tilted her head. "Tell the press to look at the two-inch puncture scar just below Bridgette's left collarbone. Your 'charity' is nothing but organ harvesting."

Eleanor couldn't take the humiliating stares of her peers anymore. She let out a shriek and lunged at Alanis, trying to physically cover her mouth.

Alanis effortlessly sidestepped.

Eleanor lost her footing and crashed hard against the door of the Maybach, her expensive dress tangling around her knees.

The tide of public opinion flipped instantly. The crowd looked at Richard with pure revulsion.

Realizing the PR nightmare that was unfolding, Richard scrambled to pull his wife off the pavement.

Just then, a commotion erupted near the hotel entrance.

Bridgette Copeland ran out onto the street, lifting the hem of her designer gown.

Ashley Mathis was right behind her, his hand hovering near her waist, playing the role of the protective knight guarding his fragile princess.