Chapter 2

As I stepped out of the orphanage gates, the Taylors were still there, hadn't left.

The moment he saw me, Liam's face tightened instantly, and he awkwardly shoved Chloe into the backseat.

Before the car door was even properly shut, he yelled at me:

"Mila Caldwell, even if you begged me on your knees, I wouldn't acknowledge you as my sister! There's no place for you in the Taylor family!"

"You, a thief, are meant to be with the Caldwells, the family that will torment you!"

The words barely left his lips before he forcefully pushed me, and I almost fell. With a *bang*, the car door was slammed shut.

My foot slipped, and I swayed twice, unable to steady myself.

Several cars roared off into the distance.

The exhaust fumes stirred up a swirl of dust, coating my face and eyes, making them sting so much I couldn't open them.

Just then, a sleek black Maybach slowly pulled up in front of me.

The window silently lowered, revealing Mrs. Caldwell's face, cold as ice:

"Want to go to the Taylors'?"

I shook my head, my voice quiet:

"The Caldwells' is fine."

She paused, then glanced at me sideways:

"What's your name?"

I murmured:

"Mila."

"From now on, no more 'Mila Taylor.'" She uttered a few words calmly, "Call yourself Mila Caldwell."

Few words, but I understood her meaning. I swiftly pulled open the car door, climbed in, and politely said:

"Okay, Mom."

Mrs. Caldwell's eyebrow twitched slightly, but she said nothing, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes.

I didn't say another word, sitting quietly.

The car drove into a luxurious villa complex, stopping in front of the Caldwells' mansion. I followed her inside, watching her set down her bag.

She casually looked up, as if talking to herself, yet also introducing someone.

"Asher, this is your new sister, Mila Caldwell."

I froze. Instinctively, I looked up.

On the railing of the second-floor hallway stood a young man.

He was even handsomer than Liam, his features so clean they seemed unreal, almost overly aloof.

I didn't know how long he'd been standing there, completely silent.

My heart skipped a beat. This was Asher Caldwell? So different from how I remembered him…

In my past life.

Shortly after I was brought into the Taylors' home, he was sent abroad.

When we met again, it was many years later.

By then he was in power, but his face was covered in scars, terrifyingly cold.

Ruthless in his methods and intimidating in appearance, people in the circle secretly called him "Caldwell the Tyrant."

I smiled at him and softly called out:

"Brother."

But he acted as if he hadn't heard me, still leaning against the railing, his gaze as cold as stagnant water.

"Don't mind him," Mrs. Caldwell said calmly, "He's just not one to engage with people."

After she finished speaking, she called for a housekeeper, telling me to follow her to get acquainted with the house, then left herself.

I was about to step over the threshold, head bowed. For some reason, as if by an impulse I couldn't explain, I turned back for a glance.

And met the young man's gaze. His eyes were dark and deep, like a dry well, showing no emotion.

My heart gave a sudden lurch. I was about to force a smile.

But he shifted his gaze first, turned and went back into his room, closing the door silently.