The Daughter They Threw Away

The year I applied to the Fortune 500 branch managed by my father, a new stipulation appeared overnight: an English proficiency score of 700.

I scored 699. I was rejected.

One year later, my adopted sister Vanessa breezed through the same process.

At the celebration banquet I hosted for her, David Lambert clapped my father on the shoulder, his face flushed with drink.

"You really spoil your girl, Richard. You knew Vanessa didn't hit the 700 mark, so you just scrapped the rule entirely. Classic."

I forced a smile, though my stomach tightened.

"You're mistaken, Mr. Lambert. When I took the exam last year, I missed the cutoff by a single point. My father doesn't play favorites. Vanessa got in on her own merit."

"Merit?" David scoffed, eyes glassy. "Richard was the one who demanded that rule last year. Specifically for that recruitment cycle."

I turned to my father, shock rooting me in place.

Richard coughed, avoiding my gaze.

"Serena, we're blood relatives. We have to avoid accusations of nepotism. Vanessa is adopted. If I didn't hire her, people would say the Whitmore family mistreats outsiders. Besides, she worked hard. She deserves this."

A bitter taste flooded my mouth.

Nepotism? Fine.

If he wanted to avoid conflicts of interest, then when I audited his company's taxes at year-end, I'd ensure there was absolutely no bias.

Not a shred of mercy.

Silence fell over the table like a shroud.

David seemed to realize he'd said too much. He waved dismissively. "I'm talking nonsense. Ignore me, Serena. Don't take it to heart."

I shoved his hand away and fixed my eyes on the man at the head of the table.

"So the clause added last yearyou wrote it specifically to block me?"

Richard said nothing.

My mother tugged at my sleeve. "Serena, don't argue with your father."

I wrenched my arm free.

"Why? I scored 699, so you set the bar at 700. You didn't just want to avoid nepotism. You wanted to keep me out."

"I told you! You're my biological daughter!" Richard snapped. "If I hired you, what would people think?"

I stared at him, disbelief warring with rage.

"Dad, avoiding nepotism means not using your power to give unfair advantages! If I wasn't qualified, fine. But I ranked first in the written test and the interview! What suspicion were you avoiding?"

My voice rose, trembling. "Vanessa didn't even break 600, yet you deleted the rule for her. Who exactly benefits from your 'fairness'?"

A glass struck my forehead. Shattered on impact.

Pain radiated through my skull as Richard shot to his feet, face purple with fury.

"You've gotten bold, haven't you!"

Guests scrambled between us, holding us back.

Vanessa's eyes welled with tears. "Sis, please! Don't upset Dad. Just apologize!"

"Look at your sister, then look at yourself!" Richard bellowed. "Vanessa studied for three months. Why shouldn't she be rewarded? Everyone knows she's the orphan of my late comrade. If I don't help her, society will judge the Whitmore family. Why can't you think about the family reputation instead of your own selfish interests?"

"Selfish interests?"

I let out a hollow laugh.

"Dad, I prepared for a year. Who rewarded me?"

Richard froze.

I laughed again, the sound empty. "Dad, did you know that because you blocked me, my boyfriend and I broke up?"

His frown deepened, anger momentarily checked.

"We dated for three years. We planned to introduce our parents the day I got the offer. But he got in, and I didn't. Long-distance we couldn't sustain. We broke up."

I held his gaze. "Are you happy now?"

I grabbed a glass and hurled it at the floor.

Shards exploded outward.

Vanessa rushed to shield Richard. "Sis, what are you doing?"

My mother moved to restrain me, but I stared at my father through a blur of tears. The shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

Then Vanessa lunged at me.

"Serena, please! I won't join Dad's company. I'll give it up voluntarily." Vanessa's voice trembled, pitch-perfect in its distress. "Don't blame Dad. It's all my fault. I'll beg for your forgiveness!"

Before I could react, she dropped to her knees with a heavy thud.

Richard hauled her back up immediately, his grip protective.

"Nonsense! You earned that position. Why should you sacrifice your future for her tantrum?" He turned his glare on me. "Look how sensible Vanessa is. Then look at yourself. You don't understand family loyalty. How are your mother and I supposed to rely on you?"

"Rely on me?"

I let out a hollow laugh.

"Since Vanessa's so sensible, why do you need me? From now on, she can be your only daughter."

I slammed the door behind me.

My mother called my name. China shattered against a wall.

"Let her go!" Richard roared. "Let's see how long she survives without us!"

I stepped into the elevator and watched the doors seal shut.

My vision blurred. I blinked the tears back.

Outside, the hotel's LED screen blazed:

[Congratulations to the Whitmore Family's Daughter: Top Scorer & Newest Executive!]

The Whitmore family's daughter.

I stared at the words until a rushing waiter collided with me.

"Sorry! The guest in 606 needs another cakethe father wants it twice as grand."

Room 606. Vanessa's party.

"Why another one?" I asked.

"Family dispute ruined the first." He lowered his voice. "The father's restarting the celebration. Very proud. His daughter got into a Fortune 500 company."

I smiled bitterly.

I had ranked first in the provincial civil service exams. Secured a position at the IRS.

No one in my family had asked. No one cared.

I walked back to my apartment and spent the day in a daze.

That night, Vanessa updated her feed. A video: Richard, Margaret, and Vanessa surrounded by relatives, posing before a towering cake. Vanessa flashed a peace sign.

The caption: Thank you, Mom and Dad, for always being my shelter.

I turned off my phone.

That weekend, I didn't go home. Instead, I drove to the University District.

I found myself at the bistro Leo Mason and I used to frequent. Three years of planning our lives over these scratched tableshouse, children, retirement.

I never calculated that my father would block my interview to secure Vanessa's spot. Or that Leo would take the job Richard offered him.

A month later, Leo broke up with me. "Long-distance" was his excuse.

Now, sitting in a quiet corner, a familiar voice drifted from the booth across from me.

"I used to eat here in college. The fish is excellent."

"Used to?" A female voice purred. "Who did you come here with?"

He chuckled.

I froze.

"Leo?" The name slipped out.

He turned slowly. Our eyes locked.

Beside him, Vanessa stared at me, fork frozen mid-air.

"Rena?"

Leo Mason paused, his expression shifting as he turned to Vanessa. "Give me a second, okay? Be good."

He offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. The moment he turned back to me, the warmth vanished. He gripped my arm and dragged me away from the crowd.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he said, voice low. "I didn't meet her until after we split."

"Liar." The word scraped my throat. "I know the timeline. She started seeing someone around this time last year. We were still together."

The color drained from his face.

I stepped closer, cornering him. "Leo, did we really break up because of the long distance? Or was there someone else?"

"I..."

"Don't insult my intelligence."

His jaw tightened. Finally, a sharp nod. "Fine. Yes. I cheated. So what?"

The admission hit like a physical blow, but he wasn't done.

"Rena, look at where I came from. My parents worked themselves to the bone just to get me out of that town. I had to claw my way up here. When I saw a chance to secure my future, I took it. Grabbed it with both hands."

Confusion warred with the pain. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The interview for the Fortune 500 branch position. I missed the cutoff score. Wasn't going to get in."

He looked me in the eye, unapologetic. "Vanessa spoke to her fatherthe General Managerand got me the offer."

My blood ran cold. "Her father? You're sure it was Richard Whitmore?"

"Yeah."

The ground tilted beneath me.

I, the biological daughter, had been rejected over a minor technicality. Held back by rigid adherence to the rules.

Yet all it took was a single word from Vanessa.

Even a strangersomeone my father had never metcould be ushered through the back door if she asked.

I was the real daughter. But in their world, I was the outsider.

I fought back the stinging in my eyes, forcing my voice steady. "I never thought you were this kind of man, Leo. You used her."

"Don't look at me like that," he snapped. "You have no idea what it takes to survive in City A. Sure, I could have stayed with you. But if another woman offers me a shortcut to a better life, why wouldn't I take it? If you actually loved me, you wouldn't stand in my way."

He scoffed. "And let's be honest, Serena. If you had the same opportunity, you would have dumped me even faster. Don't bother denying it."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend the depth of his selfishness.

"So don't blame me for being realistic," he continued, tone turning condescending. "Blame yourself. You don't have the ability to get into a Fortune 500 company. You don't have Vanessa's connections. And you certainly don't have a father like Richard Whitmore."

I froze. A bitter laugh clawed at my chest.

"You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"Does it matter?"

"What if I told you my father is Richard Whitmore?"

Leo paused.

Then laughedcold, mocking.

"If you were Richard Whitmore's daughter, you wouldn't have been rejected. Stop making things up. It's pathetic."

I opened my mouth, but the words died in my throat.

"Leo?"

Vanessa's sweet voice cut through. She approached, brow furrowed with concern as she slipped her arm through his.

"Is everything okay? Is there a misunderstanding?"

"It's nothing," Leo said, demeanor instantly smooth. He glanced at me with disdain. "Just an ex from college. Having a hard time letting go."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her away without a backward glance.

But just before they disappeared into the crowd, Vanessa looked over her shoulder.

Her eyes met mine. Her lips curledtriumphant, knowing, cruel.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out numbly.

"Rena," Margaret's voice came through, sharp and impatient. "It's Sunday. Are you still throwing a tantrum? Your father is furious. Stop making a scene and come home."

"I'm not making a scene," I whispered.

I ended the call before my voice could break.

I dialed another number.

"Tyler Whitney, Tax Investigation Division. We have jurisdiction over Ascend Corporation, correct?"

"Yes, Director Whitmore."

"Richard Whitmore recently brought in a new protg. Focus your attention there."

"Understood."

For the next few days, I buried myself in the tax audit, ignoring every call from the Whitmore residence.

Until I was cornered outside my office building after work.

Margaret stepped out of a waiting car, blocking my path.

"Rena, I finally found you. Your father's waiting at home." She sighed. "Stop being difficult. You haven't been back in nearly a month. Come home tonight. We're familythere's nothing we can't work out."

I wanted to refuse. But my superior's car was still parked behind me. I didn't want a scene. Gritting my teeth, I stepped into the vehicle.

When we arrived, the front door opened to a picture-perfect tableau: Vanessa pouring tea for Richard at the head of the table.

He looked up, brow furrowing instantly.

"So, you finally decided to show your face."

"If I'm unwelcome, I can leave. I'm quite busy."

I turned on my heel.

Margaret caught my arm.

Richard scoffed. "Busy? With what?"

"Work."

"Work?" A sneer curled his lip. "Some low-level job paying two or three thousand a month, and you think that justifies this attitude? Without my support, what decent job could you possibly find?"

"Support?"

I almost laughed.

"Mr. Whitmore, from childhood to adulthood, what exactly have you supported me in?"

He froze.

"Other fatherseven those with nothingwouldn't dream of snatching opportunities from their own daughter. But you're different." I met his gaze, voice steady. "Even when your daughter succeeds on her own merits, you beat her down. Your 'support' is reserved for outsiders. You've never extended a hand to me. Since you've given me nothing, what right do you have to threaten to take it away?"

"You!"

Richard shot to his feet, face darkening.

Vanessa rushed forward, grabbing my hand with feigned desperation. "Sister! How can you talk to Dad like that? Apologize! He's still our father!"

Richard clutched his chest, finger trembling as he pointed at me. "You see this? This is exactly why I help Nessa and not you!"

Margaret rushed to rub his back, shooting me a look of reproach. "Rena, I didn't bring you home to start a war. Look at Nessawhy can't you be sensible like her? Apologize!"

I shook off Vanessa's hand.

"I'm not sensible. Fine. As long as Vanessa is. After all, you've never treated me as a daughter anyway."

"How dare you!" Richard roared.

"Am I wrong?"

Crash.

A teacup shattered at my feet.

"Fine. Go! I want to see what you can amount to in this city without me! Get out!"

Vanessa reached out as if to stop meher fingers grazing my sleeve in a calculated miss. She looked distressed, acting powerless.

"Sister, don't throw a tantrum! Just apologize!"

"Nessa, let her go!" Richard shouted. "Ungrateful wretch! When she hits a wall, she'll realize how wrong she was!"

Even hardened as I was, hearing my family openly favor an outsider still stung. Heat pricked my eyes.

I blinked it away, turned, and walked out. Hailed a taxi. Didn't look back.

Back at my office, a file sat on my deskTyler's latest findings.

I flipped through the financial records. A cold smile touched my lips as I slammed it shut.

"I knew it. Vanessa isn't clean."

The year-end inspection had arrived. Downstairs at Ascend Corporation headquarters, the official vehicles pulled up to the curb.

My team bypassed reception and marched straight toward Vanessa's office.

"Investigate me?"

Hearing the commotion, she looked up from her desk, scoffing. "Do you have any idea who I am? Who authorized this?"

"I did."

The color drained from her face.

My team parted, carving a path. I walked through, badge raised.

"Serena Whitmore, Director of Tax Investigation Division One. We've uncovered substantial evidence of tax evasion and underreported income. You are required to cooperate."