The 24th Century Warrior Became a Fake Heiress novel Chapter 3

Isaac nodded. "It's all set."

As he spoke, a hint of a smile played on his lips. "The principal wasn't too keen on it at first.

"But Hannah's just too outstanding.

"This time, she even won first place in the cello division at the national finals.

"She really brought honor to the Powell family."

His expression softened. "She spoke up for Isabella, so the principal agreed.

"Isabella can attend Westbrook Academy."

Then, with a touch of pride, he added, "The national STO Translation Competition is coming up soon. He's counting on our Hannah to help him clinch a win."

As Isaac said this, a flicker of satisfaction and pride passed through Daniel's eyes.

"Hannah really is a sensible girl."

"It's just a shame..."

She wasn't the Powell family's biological daughter.

*****

Isabella returned to her room.

She glanced around, her gaze finally settling on a small desk by the bed.

She walked straight over, pulled open the drawer, and found a few pairs of handmade insoles scattered haphazardly inside.

They were crude and cheap-looking, completely out of place in the exquisitely decorated room.

Faint, mottled tear stains were even visible on them.

Isabella looked down, staring at them quietly for a long moment, then let out a soft, low chuckle. "So stupid."

These were the insoles the original owner had embroidered for the Powell father and son.

Filled with immense joy and hope at finding her family, she had wanted to give the Powells a gift.

However, on the night she was making them, Isaac and Daniel had scolded her, telling her not to do such strange things.

She was the young lady of the Powell family now; she mustn't embarrass them.

The original owner couldn't understand why preparing a gift for her family was embarrassing. This was the only small skill she had.

But clearly, in the eyes of the Powells, her surprise and sincerity were worthless.

They simply needed a young lady who could enhance the Powell family's reputation.

And the original owner, brought back from the countryside, clearly fell far short of their expectations.

"Tch."

Isabella let out a faint, low sound of ridicule.

Then, she straightaway locked those insoles back in the drawer.

She said softly, "Don't worry. I'll live this life well for you."

As for the Powell family...

They looked down on the original owner, but she looked down on them too.

What was so great about them?

Just some wealthy family, that was all.

Isabella closed the drawer and calmly pulled open the nearby wardrobe.

Then, her expression suddenly froze.

Frowning, she looked at the colorful clothes inside, full of lace trims and dreamy hues, and raised a hand to rub her forehead.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what she must look like right now.

Isabella promptly pressed the call bell by the bed.

Soon, the maid responsible for tidying appeared before her.

Soon, the servants on duty and the butler rushed over in a hurry.

"Ms. Powell, what—?!" They looked at her in astonishment.

The butler also hurried over.

Isabella's eyes were icy, carrying a trace of fierceness. She said coldly, "She said the styles in my wardrobe cannot be changed because they don't conform to high-society etiquette.

"I'd like to ask, who made that rule?"

Isabella's gaze was indifferent. She suddenly pressed her foot down, causing the maid pinned beneath it to let out a cry of pain—who knows where Isabella had stepped.

With a fierce glint in her eyes, Isabella demanded, "Do I need your permission to wear what I want?

"Who is the lady of the Powell family here—me, or you?!"

At this, the butler's face showed shock, and he quickly said, "No, that's not it.

"Ms. Powell, please don't misunderstand.

"You are naturally the lady here.

"We are all your servants."

The butler inwardly lamented his misfortune.

They might look down on Isabella in secret, but this was the Powell family. Isabella was a Powell by blood. To try and act like the master in front of her—were they insane?!

Isabella was the found young lady, while they were just servants who could be replaced at will!

"Ms. Powell, please rest assured. Her training was inadequate. I will report this incident and deduct points from her evaluation. Her pay this month will be cut in half. Please calm your anger."

As the butler said this, the maid pinned under Isabella's foot suddenly widened her eyes in disbelief and struggled, trying to speak.

Half her pay—that would ruin her!

The Powell family's compensation was generous, with extremely good benefits. Half a month's pay could equal a regular person's yearly expenses, not to mention their various bonuses.

This maid was also someone who spent lavishly. Without that half-month's pay, she'd likely have to scrape by this month.