The Billionaire Adopted Heiress You Can't Replace Me

The moment my flight touched down in New York and I turned on my phsone, a flood of notifications almost crashed my screen. [Is Vivian really back? Right now?

Chloe, the newly found biological heiress of the Sinclair family, must be losing her mind!] [Losing her mind is an understatement.

I heard Carter Montgomery went to pick her up at the airport himself. Oh, the drama is about to be delicious!] [Carter? Isn't he basically forced by his family to marry Chloe now?

Why is he picking up Vivian? Is this a secondchance romance in the making, or is he just rubbing it in her face?] I scrolled through the gossip on Snapchat, my fingers icy cold.

I locked my screen. Walking out of the VIP exit, I spotted Carter in the crowd immediately. It had been three years.

He had lost some of his youthful innocence, replaced by the sharp, intimidating edge of a seasoned CEO. It seemed the rumors on my phone were true. Too bad for them.

I didn’t come back for him.

I came back for the girl my grandfather had spent twenty years looking for—the biological granddaughter who had just been brought home. "Vivian," Carter called out.

He stepped forward, naturally reaching for my suitcase. I smoothly pivoted, dodging his hand. "Mr. Montgomery.

Good to see you." My tone was polite but freezing, as if that professional title was the only thing left between us. His hand froze in midair for a second before he pulled it back.

Behind his designer glasses, his dark eyes scanned my face intensely. "You haven’t changed at all.

I thought you’d choose to stay at the European branch until you retired." He paused, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Is this because of Chloe Vance—or should I say, Chloe Sinclair?" "I didn't know you could actually feel threatened, Vivian." "Are you afraid she’s going to take away the Sinclair empire you spent years building and protecting?" I rolled my suitcase past him, heading straight for the backseat of his car.

My voice didn't waver. "You’re overthinking, Mr. Montgomery.

I am only here to do the job my grandfather assigned to me." Carter’s eyes were full of doubt and confusion, but he said nothing.

He silently got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

Once inside, I opened my laptop, popped in my AirPods, and started speaking in fluent, rapidfire business English, running a remote board meeting.

Carter watched me through the rearview mirror, his brow furrowing deeper by the second. Maybe he was used to dealing with fragile women who cried and begged for his pity.

But he had forgotten one thing. I, Vivian Sinclair, had never been one of them. The car pulled smoothly into the Sinclair estate in Greenwich.

The moment I stepped out of the car, a sharp, whiny voice echoed from inside the mansion. "How hard is it to get things right?

I explicitly said I wanted fresh roses flown in from France! Why did you try to fool me with these cheap local ones? Do you even know who I am?" I walked into the living room.

A girl in a pink designer dress was standing with her hands on her hips, screaming at a group of trembling maids.

She had delicate features, and I could see a faint resemblance to the Sinclair family in her eyes.

But her cheap, petty arrogance completely ruined any elegance her bloodline was supposed to bring. This was Chloe.

The biological daughter who had spent twenty years living in the slums before being found. Seeing me, she instantly dropped her loud act.

She shrunk back, putting on a victimized, fragile posture, while eyeing me like a threatened cat. "Are you Vivian?" Her voice carried an instant, raw hostility. "Yes, I am." I nodded calmly, letting my gaze linger on her for exactly three seconds.

First impression: Unqualified. Chloe squirmed under my gaze. She puffed out her chest, trying to force an air of authority. "Why are you here?

Grandpa said everything in the Sinclair family belongs to me. You’re just an adopted daughter. You’ve occupied my spot for so many years.

Are you back to steal my inheritance now?" I didn't want to waste my breath arguing with her.

I simply opened my briefcase, pulled out a thick folder, and placed it on the glass coffee table in front of her. "Chloe... dear," I paused, changing my form of address, though my tone sounded like a boss delivering a performance review. "Grandpa decided that, starting today, I will oversee your training and integration into the Sinclair Group.

I will be conducting a threemonth evaluation of your capabilities and submitting a formal report to the board." I watched her face turn pale as I added, "This report will directly determine whether you have the capability to inherit the Sinclair Group." "So, I hope your performance won't disappoint Grandpa." She instantly shrieked, "What right do you have to evaluate me?

You’re not even a real Sinclair! You’re just a fake!" Chloe stood tall, her face filled with arrogant pride. "I am the real heiress.

You don't get a say in my family's business." I frowned, looking at the sheer, naive stupidity in her eyes.

In my mind, I checked the box for "fail." Before I could speak, Carter’s cold voice cut through the room. "She has the right because she personally led the Sinclair Group’s transition from traditional manufacturing to hightech green energy.

She cleared over two billion dollars in debt and pushed the company into the elite Big Four of the Upper East Side.

She has the right because she holds 30% of the company's shares, making her the largest individual shareholder besides your grandfather." With every word Carter spoke, the color drained from Chloe's face. "Chloe," Carter’s voice was icecold. "If you want to run the Sinclair Group, a birth certificate alone won't cut it." I glanced at Carter, slightly surprised.

I thought he would enjoy watching Chloe and me tear each other apart so he could reap the benefits. But his words weren't really helping me. They were a warning to Chloe.

To the Montgomery family, a useless heiress had zero value for a strategic marriage. Chloe’s face flushed red and white.

Her lips trembled, but she couldn't find a single word to fight back. Finally, she stamped her foot in frustration, burst into tears of humiliation, and ran back up to her room.

The living room fell into dead silence.

Just then, a raspy but authoritative voice spoke from the top of the stairs. "Vivian, you're home." I looked up to see my grandfather slowly walking down, supported by his butler.

He looked older than when I had left, but his eyes were still incredibly sharp. "Grandpa," I bowed my head slightly, hiding my sharp edges. "Good job." He patted the back of my hand, then looked toward the stairs where Chloe had run off.

He sighed. "Chloe... she suffered a lot out there for twenty years. She's a bit wild. Be patient with her. She is your sister, after all. Our family owes her." And there it was.

The guilttrip, right on schedule. I laughed coldly inside, but my face remained perfectly neutral. "Don't worry, Grandpa.

I'll do my best to teach her." As for whether she wanted to learn, or was even capable of learning—that was entirely out of my hands.

The next morning at 9:00 AM, I was sitting in the Acting CEO office on the top floor of the Sinclair Group HQ—a place I had been away from for three years.

Chloe, on the other hand, didn't show up until 10:30 AM, yawning and clicking her fourinch Jimmy Choos down the hallway.

She was wearing the latest Chanel tweed suit, strolling leisurely as if she were at a mall, completely out of sync with the fastpaced, highstress corporate environment around her. "This is your desk." I pointed to a small cubicle right outside my glass office.

It was usually the intern's desk.

It had an open view, meaning she could see everything happening in my office, and I could watch her every move. "This is the material you need to study and organize this week." I signaled my assistant to dump a twofoothigh stack of documents on her desk. "It contains the basic operations and the financial reports of the past three years for our seven subsidiaries and thirtysix independent project departments." "I expect a summary report from you in one week." Chloe looked at the mountain of paperwork, her pretty face turning green. "You expect me to sit here?

To read this trash?" She raised her voice in disbelief. "Vivian, are you doing this on purpose? I am the Sinclair heiress!

I am the future boss, not your personal assistant!" "In this building, we only care about titles, not bloodlines." I didn't even look up as I reviewed a quarterly report, signing my name in sharp red ink. "Until you prove your worth with actual results, this cubicle is your starting point.

Or, you can go ahead and ask Grandpa to pull you out of this evaluation right now." She trembled with rage, but she didn't dare go to Grandpa.

She knew that if she got labeled as lazy and useless now, she would never get the inheritance.

She sat down reluctantly, grabbed a folder, flipped through two pages, and immediately pulled out her phone. Her fingers flew across the screen.

She was probably crying about me to her wealthy friends in some group chat. I ignored her. A lion doesn't lose sleep over the opinions of sheep.

That evening, an important charity gala was held at the RitzCarlton. I attended as the Acting CEO of the Sinclair Group.

Chloe, however, attended as "the Sinclair heiress." She had been forced onto Carter's arm as his official date by his mother, Victoria Montgomery, a famously aggressive socialite.

Chloe floated around the room like a flashy butterfly. She clung to Carter’s arm all night, showing him off like a trophy.

She made sure her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear as she announced her territory. "Carter is so sweet to me.

He said he was worried I wouldn't adjust to life back in the city, so he's going to personally take care of me from now on." "Oh yes, our families are already discussing the wedding.

It'll be happening very soon." Carter’s face was visibly stiff. He maintained a polite but distant smile.

Because of family pride and the media cameras flashing around us, he didn't shake her off.

But his tightly pressed lips and the annoyed, helpless glances he kept throwing my way betrayed his actual feelings.

Finally, after a waltz ended, Chloe walked over to me, holding a glass of pink champagne.

She had a sweet, triumphant smile on her face, but her eyes were filled with pure malice. "Vivian," she called out warmly, as if we were actually loving sisters. "Look at you, standing here all by yourself.

It must be so lonely. But I guess it makes sense.

No matter how smart or capable you are, at the end of the day, you're just a hired hand working for my family, right?" She paused on purpose, enjoying the lack of emotion on my face, before turning to Carter, who had just walked up behind her.

Her voice turned incredibly sweet. "Unlike me. I don't have to do anything, and yet I get everything.

Including things that some people worked so hard for but could never have." She was clearly talking about Carter.

The guests around us immediately quieted down, turning to watch the drama. Some people even quietly pulled out their phones to record.

I calmly swirled the red wine in my glass, watching the rich liquid coat the sides.

I looked up, meeting her gaze, and let a cold, sharp smile spread across my face. "I work for the future of the Sinclair Group." My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the quiet room like a knife. "As for who represents that future, I believe Grandpa and the board will make the right call.

After all, the Sinclair Group is built on creating actual value, not on some empty shell who only knows how to brag about her bloodline and her man, while not even knowing how to read a basic balance sheet." "You!" Chloe's face went white, her chest heaving with anger.

She couldn't find a single word to talk back. I didn't give her another look.

I raised my glass to an important business partner standing nearby, turned around elegantly, and left the embarrassing scene to Carter, the man she had used as a prop.

In a dim corner of the ballroom, Carter finally broke free from Chloe and walked over to me with his drink.

He smelled faintly of Chloe’s sweet, suffocating perfume, mixed with his own clean, woody cologne.

It was annoying. "You’re not treating her the way I thought you would." His eyes behind his glasses were deep and unreadable. "I thought you loved the company so much that you’d treat her as an ultimate enemy.

But right now... you look more like a boss dealing with a problematic employee." "You’ve always been observant, Mr.

Montgomery," I replied professionally, as if answering a boring question in a meeting. "Vivian," he suddenly called my name.

Hearing that familiar name from him sent a strange, complicated wave through me. "Do we really have to talk like this? About what happened three years ago... I—" "Mr.

Montgomery." I cut him off coldly.

I placed my empty glass on a passing waiter's tray with absolute finality. "Your personal life has nothing to do with me, nor does it affect Sinclair’s business. I have work to do.

Excuse me." I turned and walked away, giving him no chance to say another word. Carter, I don't have the time or the energy to dig up a past that I buried with my own hands.