Chapter 3

"Excuse me," Amelia said calmly. "Did my father send you to pick me up?" Charles spun around, and the moment he saw her face mottled with red blotches, he knew this was the Stevans family's heiress they'd been waiting for. Yet, something felt off. Weren't women from the countryside supposed to be timid and meek? Why, then, did he sense an indescribable presence about this country-raised young lady that kept him from looking down on her? It must be his imagination. Charles came to his senses and nodded. "We're here to take you home, Ms. Stevans." "Thank you for coming. Let's get going," Amelia said with a faint smile. That smile almost turned Charles' stomach. Amelia was just… unbearably ugly and frightening. In a way, that played right into their hands. Diana had deliberately arranged a luncheon that day and invited all the socialites for the sole purpose of showing everyone how hideous Amelia was. Eventually, word would find its way to her fiance's family. As the pinnacle of wealth and influence, the Brookses would surely refuse to let their second heir marry such a backward and unsightly woman. That way, Winter, the Stevanses' youngest daughter, would have a chance to marry into the Brooks family. "Please get in, Ms. Stevans." Charles pinched his thigh to keep his composure. The pain helped him keep his expression schooled so he wouldn't show how nauseous he felt. Then, he forced himself to appear calm as he stepped on the gas. … About half an hour later, the car pulled up in front of the Stevans residence. Amelia looked at the familiar villa, recalling the first time she'd come here in her previous life. Back then, she was overwhelmed by the grandeur of the house. She was so nervous and awkward that she'd made a laughingstock of herself, and her paternal grandmother, Sierra Lambert, had taken an instant disliking to her. Later, she learned that the Stevans had barely managed to squeeze their way into Shelwick's high society, and this little villa was nothing impressive at all. She'd been called back because Sierra's days were numbered, and her cold, self-centered father wanted her home to pay her respects. Sierra was the only one in this household who'd shown her any semblance of care. Though she hadn't been particularly fond of Amelia either, she'd at least given her a sliver of familial affection. Now that Amelia had been given a second chance at life, she wanted to stay by Sierra's side and accompany her through her final days. Countless thoughts swirled in Amelia's mind, yet her expression remained calm and unreadable. After crossing the gates, Charles led Amelia straight into the living room. It was crowded with guests and filled with expensive ornaments. Amelia was well aware that these pieces were tucked away most of the time, lest they get damaged. Diana had only put them on display to intimidate her. "Mrs. Stevans Senior, Mrs. Stevans," Charles called out, stepping forward to the center of the room. "Ms. Stevans has returned." Diana tried to suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Raising her voice, she told Sierra, who sat in her wheelchair, "Mia's back, Sierra!" Sierra, who spent more time asleep than awake these days, had forced herself to stay awake because she knew another one of her granddaughters was on her way back. When Diana informed her of Amelia's arrival, Sierra slowly opened her eyes, still carrying an undeniable air of authority. "Where is she?" she asked calmly. Realizing he was standing in front of Amelia, Charles hurriedly stepped aside. All eyes turned toward Amelia. Before them stood a young lady with a face full of dreadful red blotches that made her unpleasant to look at. Her cheap, shabby clothes only reinforced the image of a country bumpkin. Diana hid the contempt in her eyes and gently beckoned her over. "Come closer, Mia." Right after saying that, she shot a look at Winter, who sat beside her, dressed to the nines. Winter caught on. Rising from her seat gracefully, she went to greet Amelia. She suppressed her disgust as she took Amelia's hand and chirped, "You're finally back, Amelia! I've been waiting for you ever since I heard you were coming home!" Hailed as Shelwick's number-one socialite, Winter wore a limited-edition sky-blue designer gown that showed off her tall figure, flowing hair, and slim waist. Compared with the travel-worn Amelia, she was fair and radiant like a work of art. Looking at Winter, who was clinging to her affectionately, Amelia couldn't help but feel a pang of indescribable sorrow. No wonder Tobias had kicked her to the curb and joined forces with Winter to rip her heart out. With a face like that, what man wouldn't be tempted? The guests whispered among themselves. "Goodness, Ms. Amelia is such an eyesore… She looks like she belongs in the gutter, while Ms. Winter belongs in the heavens!" "No wonder the Stevanses kept her away all this time. If she were my daughter, I would never bring her back either! It'd be too humiliating." "I heard she's engaged to the second son of the Brooks family. When Mrs. Brooks learns of this, won't this marriage drive her mad?" Winter's lips unconsciously curved up when she heard that. All of a sudden, she didn't mind Amelia's arrival. Having that ugly freak next to her only made her own beauty and status as the top socialite stand out even more. Amelia, of course, heard the whispers and ridicule, but she didn't feel a thing. She'd already died once; no amount of malice could wound her again. She tuned them out and gave Winter a slight nod. Without sparing a glance at the lavish decorations Diana had meticulously arranged, she walked gracefully up to Sierra and said softly, "I'm back, Grandma." Her manners were impeccable. The guests who'd just been mocking her instinctively fell quiet. Sierra narrowed her eyes. Even though Amelia's face was mottled with red blotches, her eyes were strikingly bright. Most people who met Sierra for the first time were intimidated by her imposing presence, yet this granddaughter of hers from the countryside wasn't afraid of her at all. That made her feel a flicker of admiration for Amelia. Hence, she beckoned Amelia closer. "Such a lovely child. You look like you've got a bright future ahead of you." Amelia's heart softened as she took in Sierra's weathered face. Mustering all her courage, she reached out and hugged her. "I've missed you so much, Grandma!" Sierra stiffened, clearly unaccustomed to such affection, but she hastily regained her composure and returned the hug. "It must have been exhausting to come all this way." Breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood, Amelia felt inexplicably at ease. In her previous life, Sierra had wept as she'd held Amelia's hand during her last moments, apologizing to her and Margaret. At the time, Amelia didn't understand what she meant. But after hearing what Winter had said before her death, she understood it completely. Sierra had known Diana was responsible for Margaret's death. Still, the dead couldn't return, and since Diana had already been pregnant at the time, she could only feign ignorance to maintain the fragile peace within the family. Since Sierra felt indebted to her, Amelia could make use of that guilt to dig up the past and settle the score with Diana once and for all. "It wasn't tiring at all, Grandma. No matter how tiring the journey was, it was worth it just to see you!" Sierra's eyes crinkled into a smile when she heard that. She rarely met someone of the younger generation who wasn't afraid of her, and she hadn't felt this close to one in a long time either. Diana's expression darkened when she noticed how satisfied Sierra was with Amelia. Wasn't this wretched thing from the countryside? Yet, she carried herself with such elegance. Her manners, her bearing, and even the way she spoke put Winter, whom Diana had painstakingly raised, to shame. Diana was livid. Then, she thought of something and asked with a smile, "Mia, it's been forever since you last saw us. Did you bring a gift for your grandmother?"