She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 60

Loyce pressed her lips together. “I really am—”

“Enough.” The receptionist waved her off like a fly. “Stop making a scene. Keep it up and I’ll call security. Next time you want to pretend, at least dress properly.”

Loyce smiled slightly. “But didn’t the Lonsdale heiress go missing for years?”

“What missing heiress?” the receptionist snapped. “She’s living comfortably at Serenity Manor. You think some random woman like you can pretend to be her?”

Loyce understood immediately. The receptionist had mistaken Sybil for the Lonsdale heiress. She was not related by blood, but she was close enough in the family structure that her kinship was taken for granted.

Loyce wasn’t angry. She simply offered a calm warning. “You should call upstairs and confirm before you throw me out,” she said. “Because if I’m the one who makes the call, this won’t end nicely.”

The receptionist hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face.

Then a voice cut in.

Keegan stepped forward with a mocking smile. “Well, well. Isn’t this Loyce? What, after getting kicked out of the Sampson family, you’re so desperate you’re pretending to be a Lonsdale heiress now?”

Marshall’s face darkened. “Loyce! Is this really the place for you to embarrass yourself?”

Keegan tilted his head, savoring it. “Mr. Sampson, look at your daughter. She’ll throw away her dignity to climb into someone else’s family.”

He turned to the receptionist, putting on a polished, gentlemanly tone. “Miss, scammers like this should be removed immediately. Don’t let her dirty the Lonsdale Group’s floors.”

The receptionist’s last trace of doubt vanished. Recognition lit her face.

But seconds later, the desk phone rang—sharp and urgent. The receptionist picked up. Her face drained of color. “What…?”

On the other end, a supervisor was screaming loud enough that even people nearby could hear the fury. “Are you out of your mind? You left the Lonsdales’ princess, the one they searched for over a decade, standing outside like a stranger? Pack your things. You’re done!”

The receptionist’s knees went weak. The handset slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the desk. She stared at Loyce, lips trembling, as if seeing a ghost.

Loyce leaned lazily against the counter, eyes cool and indifferent. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “One call and you’re shaking like that?”

Keegan’s smirk faltered. He didn’t understand the receptionist’s sudden panic, but he hadn’t come here just to mock Loyce. He rapped his knuckles on the desk.

“While you’re calling upstairs,” he said briskly, “tell Mr. Lonsdale Keegan Vaughn is here. We’re here to discuss that commercial district project we agreed on earlier.”