Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 1

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**

The dining room reverberated with the sharpness of Abigail Vossen’s furious voice, a storm of anger that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Vossen household. “From this moment forward, you are no longer a part of the Vossen family! Pack your things and leave. It’s no wonder I’ve despised you all these years; you were never my daughter to begin with!”

Ophelia Vossen, still nursing the remnants of her breakfast, felt the weight of Abigail’s words crash down upon her like a tidal wave. The harshness of the moment was amplified when Abigail slammed a thick stack of personal documents onto the table, the sound echoing ominously in the silence that followed.

The roots of Abigail’s hatred ran deep, entwined in a painful truth. For eighteen years, Ophelia had lived in the lap of luxury, basking in the wealth and prestige of the Vossen name. Yet, unbeknownst to most, Abigail’s true daughter had been raised in the shadows, struggling in poverty under the care of a janitor’s family.

“I understand,” Ophelia replied, her voice devoid of emotion as she methodically slid the documents into her sleek black handbag. The gesture felt almost ritualistic, a final act of closure.

At that moment, Mia, the maid, could no longer stay silent. “Ophelia, remember that everything you own was given to you by Mr. and Mrs. Vossen. You have no claim to anything in this house. May I check your bag?”

Mia’s words struck a chord with Abigail, who nodded vigorously in agreement. “Yes! Check her bag, Mia.”

Cameron Vossen, seated at the head of the table, finally intervened, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of exasperation. “That’s enough, everyone. Look at that bag—what could she possibly take?” Despite the swirling emotions, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of compassion for Ophelia, who had spent nearly two decades within these walls.

But Ophelia, unperturbed, turned her bag upside down, letting its contents spill out across the table with a sense of finality.

“There’s nothing here but the laptop I bought with my scholarship money and an old phone. If you want them, take them,” she stated with an air of calmness that belied the storm within.

From the very beginning, Abigail had treated Ophelia with a chill that cut deeper than any winter frost. Her affection was reserved solely for her sons, leaving Ophelia to navigate life on her own. The irony was not lost on Ophelia; she had never touched the family’s wealth, even relinquishing her scholarship funds to the household. Nothing in this grand house had ever belonged to her, and she felt no urge to claim any of it now.

Abigail scoffed, her disdain palpable. “Scholarship money? If we hadn’t paid for your tuition at Dunhollow University, do you really think you would have received a scholarship at all?”

“Mom, let it go,” Layla Vossen interjected, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “It’s just a laptop and a phone. They mean nothing to the Vossen family.”

“Once she leaves us, she probably won’t even manage to pay her phone bill. Just let her keep those things,” she added, her tone laced with mockery.

Abigail, though reluctant, relented. “Fine. Whatever she leaves behind, I’ll buy you new ones. Even if she keeps those items, I’ll make sure to throw them out later.” The thought of Ophelia using anything that had once been hers was intolerable.

Layla smiled sweetly, her façade of kindness masking her true intentions. “Mom, I know you care about me, but please don’t say such things in front of Ophelia. She’s leaving today—it must be so hard for her.”

With an exaggerated display of concern, Layla stood up, collected the laptop, phone, and documents, and handed them to Ophelia. “Ophelia, don’t hold any grudges against me. Take care of yourself. I promise to look after Mom and Dad for you.”

Her words dripped with a false gentleness, yet her eyes sparkled with a sense of victory.

Layla had grown up grappling with her place in a world that often overlooked her, and she had learned to be calculating, manipulative, and fiercely ambitious. Unfortunately, only Ophelia could see through the thin veneer of Layla’s concern, recognizing the underlying mockery that lay beneath. The rest of the Vossen family was too blinded by the joy of welcoming back their so-called real daughter to notice.

Ophelia offered a faint, icy smile, a glimmer of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. “Why would I hate you? In fact, I should thank you. Your return has given me the perfect excuse to finally break free from the Vossen family.”

Soon enough, Layla would come to realize just how deeply the Vossen family favored their sons over their daughters, a truth that would soon become painfully clear.

As Ophelia smiled, Layla felt a chill creep into her heart. ‘Is she really not upset about leaving? Why does she seem so relieved?’ she pondered, her mind racing.

“You ungrateful brat!” Abigail erupted, her veins throbbing in her forehead. “We raised you for eighteen years, and you can’t wait to escape? Fine! Go back to that filthy little house you crawled out of!”

Ophelia’s lips twisted into a cold smirk, a sharp edge to her expression. “You’ll soon discover who has truly supported whom.”

The Vossen family was too arrogant to recognize that without Ophelia, they were nothing. She had secretly acquired a significant portion of their shares and played a crucial role in helping them go public. Without her, they would never have been accepted into the elite circles of the capital.

They were the true parasites. And from this day forward, Ophelia owed them nothing. One day, they would regret their decision to cast her aside.

Without uttering another word, Ophelia swung her backpack over her shoulder, turned on her heel, and walked away, leaving a storm of emotions in her wake.

Abigail trembled with rage. “Even the way she speaks is unbearable! Once she returns to that shabby little home, all her arrogance and attitude will disappear in no time,” she shouted after her, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Layla watched Ophelia’s retreating figure disappear through the gate, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips.

‘Ophelia, enjoy the miserable life that was meant for me,’ she thought, relishing the thought of Ophelia’s downfall.

Everyone believed that years ago, Ophelia and Layla had been switched at birth, a tale that had become part of family lore.

Even Ophelia assumed that the couple coming to pick her up today would be her biological parents, the humble janitors who had raised her.

But to everyone’s astonishment, as Ophelia stepped out of the Vossen residence, a sleek, modified black sports car rolled up in front of the gate, its presence commanding attention.

The car was unlike anything she recognized; it had clearly been customized, with every detail exuding opulence. Even the windows appeared bulletproof, a stark contrast to the life she had known.

He then retrieved the leather briefcase he had brought along, handing it to Layla. “As a token of appreciation, Mr. and Mrs. Rowle asked me to deliver these gifts to your family. Please accept them.”

Inside the case lay the Rowle family’s generous gifts for the Vossen family—luxury cars and villa deeds for each of the three Vossen sons, a limited-edition jewelry voucher for Abigail, and antique certificates worth millions for Cameron and his father, Dominic Vossen.

The total value was staggering, easily amounting to tens of millions of dollars. If they simply contacted the stores listed on the certificates, everything would be delivered directly to their doorstep.

Yet the Vossen family was met with nothing but disdain.

“Are you insulting us? A lousy briefcase as a thank-you gift? Who would want that?” Before Layla could respond, Abigail snatched the bag from Samuel’s hands, tossing it aside with a flick of her wrist.

‘That shabby bag can’t be worth more than three thousand dollars. They call that a gift? Pathetic,’ Layla thought, a smirk creeping across her face.

“The Vossen family doesn’t need your cheap little bag. Take it back,” Abigail said, rolling her eyes in contempt.

‘Trying to act rich, are they? Using a second-rate bag as a ‘thank-you’? I’ve never seen such ridiculous pretenders,’ she mused, her disdain palpable. ‘They can’t possibly be from any respectable family.’

Layla nodded in agreement, her tone dripping with mockery. “No need. Ophelia can keep it for herself.”

Seeing that plain-looking bag only cemented Layla’s conviction.

‘Even if it wasn’t those poor cleaners who came for her, so what? There’s no way her family is richer than the Vossen family anyway,’ she thought with a sense of superiority.

Samuel watched as Abigail and Layla turned their backs, retreating into the house. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes internally.

“Houses and cars worth millions, and they don’t want them? The Vossen family really knows how to show arrogance,” he muttered under his breath.

Still, he quietly retrieved the briefcase and placed it back in the car without another word.

Ophelia had overheard him, her brow arching slightly.

‘Just as I suspected, this car isn’t ordinary. And neither are the gifts Samuel brought,’ she mused, her mind racing with possibilities.