Chapter 1

Something’s been off with my housekeeper’s daughter, Sophia, lately.

She keeps staring at me with this hostile look, almost like it’s intentional, and then she’ll blast those “Switched Heiress” podcasts in the living room.

My brother, Ethan, has had enough and came to vent to me.

“Nat, you think Sophia actually believes you and she were switched at birth?” he groaned.

“And, like, it’s weird—she’s been looking at me with this ‘loving’ stare lately. Totally creepy.”

I chuckled. She really thought the yearly DNA tests my family pays for don’t cover things like that?

I’m Natalie James, the only heiress of James Corporation.

Like most kids in wealthy families, my parents are rarely home, so they hired a live-in housekeeper to look after Ethan and me.

Martha Harris, our housekeeper, has a daughter around my age named Sophia. She’s lived with us practically her entire life, eating and growing up alongside us.

But here’s the strange part—Martha doesn’t seem to like her daughter very much. It’s obvious to our whole family that Martha can barely tolerate Sophia.

Once, I asked my parents if we should step in. After all, Sophia is often ignored or treated harshly; it’s pitiful.

But my parents told me not to interfere with other people’s family issues.

Besides, the one time I spoke up on Sophia’s behalf, Martha, who’s usually kind to me, told me flatly, “That’s a family matter.”

Since then, I’ve stayed out of it.

But recently, Sophia’s attitude towards me has changed. Now, she gives me these strange looks and does a lot of…puzzling things around the house.

First, she started pestering Ethan daily about when my parents would return from their vacation. Then, whenever she’d see me, she’d give me this odd, condescending glare.

But the worst? When she’d turn up the volume on her phone, blasting those “Switched Heiress” podcasts for everyone to hear.

As Ethan put it, “It’s like her whole scheme is written all over her face.”

I laughed inwardly. How could that be possible?

Even if Sophia and I are close in age, my parents’ DNA tests rule out anything like that.

…Wait. Could I actually not be the real heiress?

I immediately dashed to the study and dug out my health records. Thankfully, my parents had the foresight to include a DNA test in our yearly health checks. I might have seriously doubted myself otherwise.

Seeing the clear relationship confirmation put me at ease, and I shrugged off Sophia’s bizarre fixation on “heiress switches” as some kind of obsession.

Then one day, Sophia suddenly turned to Ethan at dinner and asked sweetly, “Ethan, don’t you think you and I look kind of alike?”

Ethan practically choked on his food. “Sophia, are you nuts? What do you mean? My real sister is sitting right here.”

Martha choked, too, clearing her throat as she shot Sophia a sharp look.

“Girl, what on earth are you saying? Mr. and Mrs. James aren’t here, so it’s a privilege for us to be allowed to dine with Miss Natalie and Mr. Ethan. Show some respect!”

With that, she rapped Sophia on the head with her chopsticks. Sophia’s eyes filled with tears.

“Just wait till they’re back. You’ll all regret this!” she snarled, throwing a vicious look my way before storming off to her room.

Um…what? I hadn’t even said anything.

And I had no idea what “look” my parents could possibly give her upon their return.

Martha looked embarrassed and turned to Ethan and me. “Miss Natalie, Mr. Ethan, I’m so sorry. Sophia’s been acting out lately. I’ll be sure to discipline her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Martha, your disciplinary skills might need a little work. After all, she is your own daughter, so maybe give her some care.”

I emphasized “own daughter” on purpose, hoping to gauge her reaction. But Martha just chuckled.

“Oh, you’re right, Miss Natalie. But people like us from small towns who barely got an education…we don’t know much about raising kids.”

“Sophia’s certainly not as refined as you are, Miss Natalie. Back where I’m from, girls her age would already be married off to bring in a dowry for the family. But here, Mr. James has been so kind, supporting her education, and yet she’s ungrateful and so rude…”

I couldn’t agree with her viewpoint, but I could tell she had zero concern about whether Sophia was her daughter or not.

Curious, I asked, “Martha, you’ve always treated me so well.”

Martha’s face brightened. “Of course! Mr. and Mrs. James have been so good to me, and I’ve watched you grow up. To me, you’re as dear as a daughter—maybe even dearer than my own.”

At that moment, I actually felt a bit sorry for Sophia. Imagine having a mom like that.

I smiled. “Martha, you should focus more on your own daughter. You might avoid some trouble that way.”

I left the dining room, ignoring Martha’s puzzled look.