The Astoria Hotel radiated opulence, its grand ballroom illuminated by cascading crystal chandeliers that sparkled against the sea of richly dressed guests. Laughter and conversation floated through the air, accompanied by the soft strains of a string quartet. The charity gala was the jewel of Julie's social calendar, a perfect display of wealth, charm, and power and a veneer of philanthropy that masked the darker dealings beneath. Tonight, though, it wasn't just the guests wearing masks, Angela felt like she was too.

　　She stepped into the room, her sleek black gown hugging her figure, she moved through the crowd like a shadow, her every step deliberate. Her entrance turned heads, but Angela was oblivious. Her focus was sharper than ever, fueled by the whirlwind of revelations and betrayals that had unraveled her world in the past 24 hours. Her heart pounded, not from nerves but from the suffocating weight of suspicion. She was here to get answers, no matter what it took.

　　Somewhere in the crowd, Michael was waiting, his motives still a shadowy enigma. Edmund, too, was here, playing his usual role as Julie's polished, devoted husband. They were holding pieces of a puzzle Angela was determined to solve. And Julie herself? She stood at the heart of it all, smiling graciously at donors and dignitaries alike, her charm a weapon as potent as any. She floated effortlessly from conversation to conversation, flashing a dazzling smile that hid the rot beneath.

　　Angela clenched her fists, steeling herself. If they won't tell me the truth, I'll find it myself. Tonight, she would no longer be a pawn in their games.

　　Angela spotted Michael near the bar, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, a glass of champagne in his hand as he chatted with a small circle of powerful men. His sharp suit and easy smile belied the tension Angela now associated with him. Swallowing her unease, she approached. For a moment, Angela hesitated. Confronting Michael in a room full of people was a gamble, but she was done playing it safe.

　　She approached him, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Michael," she said, her voice cutting through the hum of conversation.

　　His head turned, and his expression briefly flickered with something unreadable before morphing into his usual charming smile. "Angela, you look stunning," he said smoothly, setting down his glass. "I didn't think you'd make it tonight. Here to steal the spotlight tonight?"

　　She ignored the compliment, her voice steady. "We need to talk. I'm here for answers," she replied, her tone clipped. "You've been circling me like a predator for weeks. Why?"

　　His companions exchanged glances, sensing the shift in the air. Michael gave them a tight smile. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen."

　　Once they were alone, Michael's polished exterior cracked, revealing a sliver of irritation. "I don't know what you've been told, Angela, but you're walking into dangerous territory." His smile faded, replaced by a wary intensity.

　　Angela stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Cut the act. I know you've been circling me for a reason. Mom warned me about you, and Elena isn't exactly your biggest fan. So tell me, what's your angle?"

　　"Angela, you don't know what you're getting into."

　　"Then enlighten me," she shot back. "Because right now, all I know is that everyone in my life is lying to me. , it seems like everyone in my life has an agenda but me."

　　Michael's jaw tightened, his polished exterior cracking. "You think you're the first person to try and play detective? Your mother's world is a labyrinth, and you don't even know what you're stepping into."

　　Michael's gaze hardened. He leaned in, his voice sharp and low. "You want the truth? Fine. Julie's business is more than just counterfeit art, it's a sprawling network of fraud, forgery, and money laundering that spans continents. And she's made enemies, Angela. Dangerous ones. It's bigger than you can imagine. Do you think your sudden reappearance in her life was a coincidence? You're leveraged, whether you like it or not."

　　Angela's blood ran cold, but she refused to show weakness. "Leverage for who? You? Or me?"

　　"For anyone with enough power to take her down," Michael said grimly. "Including me. Julie has enemies, Angela. People who won't hesitate to use you to get to her. I'm not the enemy here, I'm trying to protect you."

　　Angela scoffed. "Protect me? That's rich coming from the man who's been manipulating me from day one."

　　Michael's eyes narrowed. "You think I'm the only one with secrets? Ask Edmund about his connection to your mother. Or better yet, ask her why she's been so desperate to keep you close."

　　Angela's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't let it show. "You're deflecting."

　　"And you're naive if you think Julie's warning wasn't just another way to control you," Michael said sharply. "She's not protecting you, she's protecting herself."

　　Before Angela could respond, Michael straightened, his smile returning as a passing guest greeted him. Angela felt her stomach twist as he walked away, leaving her with more questions than answers.

　　Angela left Michael abruptly, her heart pounding. She spotted Julie near the stage, surrounded by a cluster of well-dressed donors. Her mother's laugh rang out, light and melodic, as she charmed her audience. Angela's chest tightened at the sight. How many lies had that smile concealed over the years?

　　But Angela saw through the facade. Julie caught her eye and excused herself, her expression softening as she approached. "Angela, darling, you look beautiful tonight. Are you enjoying yourself?"

　　Angela's lips tightened. "We need to talk."

　　"Angela, you're supposed to be mingling, darling."

　　"I said we need to talk, mom."

　　Julie tilted her head, her smile faltering. "Now? In the middle of the gala?"

　　"Yes," Angela said firmly. "Unless you want me to ask my questions in front of everyone."

　　Julie's eyes flashed with irritation, but she nodded. "Fine. Let's step outside."

　　The two of them moved to a quieter balcony, the cool evening air a welcome reprieve from the crowded ballroom. Julie leaned against the railing, her poise unshaken.

　　"I just spoke to Michael," Angela said, cutting straight to the point.

　　Julie's expression hardened. "I warned you to stay away from him."

　　"Don't play coy with me," Angela snapped, her voice shaking. "He told me about the money laundering, the forgeries, the enemies you've made. Is it true?"

　　Julie sighed, her mask of composure slipping just slightly. "Michael exaggerates. He always has. He has a way of twisting things to suit his narrative. Yes, I've made mistakes, but everything I've done was to secure our future, your future."

　　"My future?" Angela repeated, her voice breaking. "Is that why you kept the truth about my adoption from me? Why have you been manipulating me my whole life?"

　　Julie's face fell, a flicker of genuine pain crossing her features. "Angela, it's not as simple as you think."

　　"Then make it simple," Angela demanded. "Tell me the truth, all of it, or I'm walking out of here for good."

　　Julie hesitated, her eyes searching Angela's face. "Fine," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were never meant to find out, but your biological father, he wasn't some stranger, Angela. He was someone I loved. Someone I lost. And when I found out I was pregnant, I made choices, choices I thought were best for you."

　　Angela's breath caught. "Who?"

　　Before Julie could answer, the sound of raised voices from the ballroom interrupted them.

　　Angela rushed back inside, her heart pounding. A crowd had gathered near the center of the room, their murmurs growing louder as they craned to see what was happening. At the center of it all stood Elena, her face pale but determined as she held a folder in her hands, the pages inside trembling as she brandished them like a weapon. Across from her was Edmund, his usually composed demeanor shattered.

　　"Edmund Brown," Elena said, her voice ringing out. "Or should I say, Edward St. Clair?"

　　Gasps rippled through the room as guests began whispering to one another.

　　Angela froze, her stomach plummeting. "What is she talking about?" she whispered. She pushed through the throng, her heart pounding as she reached the front.

　　"Elena, what are you doing?" she hissed, her voice trembling.

　　Elena turned to her, her expression softening. "Angela, I didn't want you to find out this way. But you deserve to know the truth." She held up the folder. "Edmund isn't who he says he is. He's been lying to you, and everyone else since the day you met him."

　　Angela's head spun. She turned to Edmund, her voice shaking. "Is it true?"

　　Edmund's face was ashen, his eyes pleading. "Angela, I can explain…"

　　"Is it true?" she screamed, her voice breaking.

　　Edmund swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "Yes. My name isn't Edmund St. Clair. But that doesn't change how I feel about you. Everything I've done, everything was for you."

　　"For me?" Angela echoed, her voice bitter. "You've been lying to me since the moment we met. Just like Michael. Just like my mother."

　　"Angela, please," Edmund said, stepping closer. "Please, you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."

　　Angela backed away, her chest heaving. The weight of betrayal pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her.

　　Julie pushed through the crowd, her face pale. "Angela, let's go. We can talk about this in private."

　　"No," Angela said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I'm done talking. I'm done with all of you, your lies, your manipulations. I've been a pawn in your games for too long."

　　"Angela, please," Julie pleaded. "I know you're upset, but we can fix this. We can…"

　　"No!" Angela shouted, her voice echoing through the room. "I don't care what you're hiding anymore. You've all made your choices. Now it's my turn."

　　Without another word, Angela turned and walked out of the ballroom, the stunned silence of the crowd following her.

　　The night air was sharp against her skin as Angela stepped outside, her mind racing. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away.

　　She found herself at the edge of the parking lot, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. For a moment, she considered driving away, leaving everything behind. But the thought felt hollow.

　　She wasn't running away, not anymore.

　　If they won't give me the truth, I'll find it myself.

　　Angela straightened, her resolve hardening. The web of lies surrounding her life was vast, but she was done being a victim. It was time to take control.

　　As she walked toward her car, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, a message from Elena.

　　"We need to talk. I have more answers. Meet me."

　　Angela hesitated, then typed a single word in response: "Where?"