?Chapter 1441:


    The grand wee banquet she had been daydreaming about—the one that would usher her into the upper-ss world—had vanished from conversation like a forgotten promise. She was certain now: the Harper family had no intention of presenting her to high society or helping her find a ce among their elite circle.


    Slumped on the plush sofa, Sandra surrendered to the weight of her thoughts, tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks.


    At the stroke of ten, a sharp knock sounded at the door. Fresh from a shower, Sandra opened it to find Cecily Swain, a servant in her thirties, standing there in a crisp uniform, hair pulled back in a bun. Her eyes gleamed with a subtle mix of contempt and haughtiness, and she held a ss of warm milk in her hand.


    “Miss, your bedtime milk,” Cecily said, her voice clipped.


    Sandra’s mind swirled with questions she longed to voice. Cecily’s lofty demeanor made her feel as though their roles had been reversed—as if the servant were the true member of the Harper family, and Sandra the lowly outsider.


    “Come in,” Sandra said softly, stepping aside.


    Cecily gently ced the milk on the polished coffee table, her movements graceful as she prepared to slip away after that.


    “Hold on a moment, Cecily…” Sandra’s voice, warm yet tinged with familiarity, stopped her. She knew Cecily’s name; she delivered milk to her room every night.


    Sandra’s voice faltered. Once, she had been the shining protégée of a celebrated fashion designer, her creationsuded without the need to seek anyone’s approval. Yet now, she found herself trying to tter a servant, a humbling shift that left her heart heavy with bitterness.


    From the vanity’s treasure trove, Sandra retrieved a sleek box of face masks and offered it to Cecily. “Take this, please. I have more than I could ever use before they expire.”


    The cab brimmed with neatly stacked face masks. Rosie had once made it a ritual to use one every single day, going through them quickly, so she had kept a generous supply on hand.


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    These were no ordinary masks—each one worth a small fortune, with a single sheet costing hundreds and a box of five soaring into the thousands. Sandra chose the least expensive box to share.


    Cecily’s face lit up with a radiant smile as she epted the gift, her demeanor softening. “Miss, feel free to ask me anything you want.”<fnbd07> Updates are released by find?novel</fnbd07>


    “How much wealth does Brenna truly possess?” Sandra’s curiosity burned.


    Cecily shook her head gently. “I don’t know the exact figure, but her parents shower her with a regr allowance, and her brothers slip her generous sums as well. She holds shares in both the Mitchell Group and the Harper Group, and rumor has it she earns a tidy sum from her own ventures. I would wager her personal wealth stretches into the billions.”


    Sandra’s eyes widened, a cascade of surprise washing over her. She had suspected Brenna’s wealth and her stake in the Harper Group, but shares in the Mitchell Group? That was a revtion she hadn’t anticipated.


    “Were the Mitchell Group shares a gift from Mr. Mitchell?” Sandra pressed, her voice tinged with intrigue.


    Cecily shook her head again, uncertain. “I’m not privy to the details, but I’ve heard those shares were a gift from Mr. Harper.”


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