His Contract Bride, The Real Heiress

Breakfast at the Sterling penthouse was a blood sport played with silverware.

The dining table was a slab of Italian marble long enough to land a small plane on. Victoria sat at the head, Julian at the foot. Stella and Serena sat on opposite sides, a demilitarized zone of floral arrangements between them.

The silence was deafening. The only sounds were the scrape of silver against china and the ticking of a grandfather clock that cost more than Serena's supposed childhood home.

Victoria watched Serena eat oatmeal. She watched it with the intensity of a hawk watching a field mouse.

That outfit, Victoria said, finally breaking the silence. She gestured vaguely at Serena's jeans and t-shirt with her fork. "It's an eyesore. We have a dress code in this house, dear. You look like the help. Actually, the help dresses better. Martha wears a uniform."

Serena swallowed a spoonful of oats. "Comfortable," she said simply.

Victoria let out a sharp breath through her nose. She reached into her Hermes bag sitting on the table and pulled out a wallet. She extracted a single, crisp bill.

One thousand dollars.

She flicked her wrist. The bill fluttered across the table, landing squarely in Serena's bowl of oatmeal. The beige sludge soaked into the corner of the expensive paper.

Buy something that covers your... poverty, Victoria sneered. "I won't have you embarrassing Julian at the office today."

Julian stopped eating. He held his coffee cup mid-air, watching. He wanted to see this. He wanted to see if the girl had a breaking point. Would she cry? Would she throw it back? Would she pocket it greedily?

Serena looked at the money in her food. She didn't look angry. She looked at it like one might look at a dead fly.

She reached into the bowl with two fingers. She pinched the dry corner of the bill and lifted it out, dripping oatmeal onto the table.

Martha? Serena called out, her voice calm.

The maid hurried in from the kitchen. "Yes, Miss?"

Serena held out the soggy thousand-dollar bill.

For your trouble, Serena said. "Sorry about the mess on the table."

Martha's eyes widened. She looked at Victoria, then at the money. "I... Miss, I couldn't..."

Take it, Serena insisted gently. "Buy something nice. Or pay rent. Whatever."

Martha took the bill with trembling fingers, whispering a thank you before fleeing back to the kitchen.

Silence fell over the table again. But this time, it was different. It was shocked.

Victoria's face turned a shade of puce that clashed with her dress. Stella's mouth hung open.

Serena wiped her fingers on a napkin. Just then, a vibration buzzed against her thigh.

She slipped her hand under the table and checked her "dumb phone." It was a burner, but the encrypted app running on it was state-of-the-art.

Notification: Vane Trust Quarterly Dividend. Deposit Confirmed: $5,000,000.00.

Serena suppressed a smirk. She took a sip of her black coffee. It tasted bitter and perfect.