I'm fake?

Wenalin’s POV

By the time I reached the classroom door, the muffled hum of the lesson inside told me I was already late. My hand lingered on the sliding door handle, and for a moment, I considered just… walking away. But avoiding this would only make things worse.

I slid the door open.

Dozens of heads turned instantly. The teacher, a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and glasses perched on his nose, paused mid-sentence, chalk hovering just above the board. His eyes scanned me—unfamiliar uniform accessories, unfamiliar face—and his brows knit together.

Teacher: “You are…?”

I straightened my posture, stepped fully into the room, and let the door close behind me with a muted click. Every gaze felt heavier than it should, and the sudden quiet made my own voice sound too loud when I spoke.

Me: “Wenalin Vohamis.”

The moment the name left my lips, the atmosphere shifted. Like an invisible ripple in water, a wave of whispers broke across the room.

“Did she just say Vohamis?”

“No way—that Vohamis?”

“She must be joking…”

Even the teacher’s usually calm face froze for a second, his grip on the chalk tightening. He took a step back from the blackboard as if the name itself was a surprise attack.

Vohamis wasn’t just a surname—it was the surname. The most powerful, most untouchable family name in the country.

Teacher: “Vohamis? Are you certain—” He stopped himself, perhaps realizing how absurd the question sounded.

I simply nodded once. “Yes.”

The whispers swelled louder.

“But… there’s already a Vohamis in Class 2-B…”

“Yeah,The pretty one—Ivory.”

“Then how—?”

It was subtle at first, but then one voice, sharper than the others, cut through.

“Is she really a Vohamis? We already have one what’s she supposed to be, a cousin?”

My chest tightened, but before I could even open my mouth, another voice chimed in from the back.

“I heard Ivory already told everyone this morning she’s the daughter of the Vohamis family.”

I blinked. Of course she did.

Ivory.

Her name rolled in my mind like a bitter taste. I remembered last night her walking through the front doors of my house as if she owned it, my father’s hand at her back like she belonged there.

When my mother died a few months ago, I thought I had endured the worst of it. But apparently, the universe decided I needed one more knife in the ribs. My father had brought Ivory his daughter from another woman and his mistress into the house without warning.

And now she was parading around at school, wearing my surname like a prize ribbon.

Someone near the front whispered just loud enough for me to catch it.

“Maybe Wenalin’s the daughter from another woman.”

A few heads turned toward me with that same look half curiosity, half pity.

Another student whispered, “Or maybe she’s the fake one. You never know with rich people.”

The words pricked like needles, but I kept my expression neutral. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t explain.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this family…it’s that defending yourself sometimes only makes people twist your words.

So I stood there in silence, letting them murmur, letting their little theories multiply. If they wanted to imagine the worst of me, fine. They could waste their energy on that.

I caught the teacher’s hesitant glance before he finally cleared his throat.

Teacher: “Alright, that’s enough. Miss Vohamis please take the empty seat in the third row.”

A few more murmurs followed me as I walked between the desks, their words sticking to me like dust I couldn’t brush off.

But I kept my head high, my steps steady. If they were going to see me as the outsider, then I’d play the part perfectly.

...----------------...

The bell rang, signaling the end of classes. The chatter of my classmates filled the air as everyone packed up their things, eager to leave. I slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way toward the school gate, my steps slow.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the ground, the air heavy with the scent of dust and faint perfume from the girls walking ahead. As I reached the open area near the gate, I froze. Just a few meters ahead, standing right at the entrance, was a familiar figure Ivory.

She wasn’t alone. Two girls stood beside her, talking animatedly. One had silky brown hair tied into a high ponytail and the other, shorter with straight cut bang . I didn’t know them personally, but their expensive-looking accessories told me they were part of Ivory’s little social circle.

I didn’t want to be seen. My instincts told me to keep my distance, so I stepped to the side and hid behind one of the large trees lining the path. From here, I could clearly hear snippets of their conversation.

Jana leaned in slightly, lowering her voice but not enough to hide it from me.

“So… Ivory, is it true? That the is Yuno’s girlfriend?”

Ivory’s laugh was light, almost mocking. “Of course not. Please. the girl is nothing compared to me.” Her tone was dripping with superiority. “And Yuno? He’s deadly in love with me. Always has been. So it’s impossible for him to suddenly like her.”

Her words hit me like a slap, but I kept quiet, my back pressed to the rough bark of the tree.smirk

Loisa tilted her head, her curiosity obvious. “Then why don’t you accept him? You’ve been rejecting him for years… even if you llike him?”

My breath caught. Like him?

Ivory’s confident smirk faltered for just a second, and then she sighed as if the question were silly. “That’s not the point. I do like Yuno… but where’s the fun in giving him what he wants right away? He should suffer first. He needs to prove himself.”

My eyes widened. The memory of earlier when Yuno suddenly pulled me in front of everyone and declared I was his girlfriend flashed in my mind. And now, knowing he had a huge crush on Ivory all along… it made everything click.

I felt a sharp twist in my chest, because I realized I was being used as part of whatever twisted game they had going on. Ivory wanted him to suffer. And apparently, I was the perfect tool for that.

Jana crossed her arms. “You’re too much, Ivory. Poor guy.”

Ivory smirked again, clearly enjoying the topic. “He’ll thank me later.”

They continued talking until a sleek, black luxury car slowly pulled up to the curb. The sun reflected off its spotless surface, and Loisa’s jaw practically dropped.

“Whoa… whose car is that?!” Loisa’s voice was filled with awe.

“It’s mine,” Ivory said casually, though her smirk widened as she watched their impressed faces.

“No way…” Jana said, running her eyes over the car. “That’s… insanely expensive.”

Ivory gave them a satisfied glance. “You can take a photo if you want.”

Jana giggled and waved her phone but didn’t actually take a picture.

The driver stepped out and opened the door for her. “Miss Ivory,” he greeted politely.

Ivory didn’t even smile back. She just tossed her hair over her shoulder and slid into the back seat. “Drive.”

But the car didn’t move.

Ivory frowned. “I said drive.”

The driver remained still, his gaze shifting toward the school building. “I’m sorry, Miss, but we’re still waiting for someone.”

Ivory rolled her eyes. “Who else are we waiting for?!”

That’s when I stepped out from behind the tree, my bag still slung over my shoulder. Jana and Loisa’s heads snapped in my direction, confusion spreading across their faces as they watched me walk toward the car.

The driver gave me a respectful nod. “Miss Wenalin.”

Without saying a word, I slid into the back seat—right beside Ivory.

For a moment, there was silence outside, except for the murmurs of Ivory’s friends.

“Wait…” Jana whispered, her voice carrying despite the distance. “Why is the transfer student getting into Ivory’s car?”

Loisa’s brows furrowed. “Don’t tell me… she’s also a Vohamis?”

Their eyes darted between me and Ivory, confusion and curiosity mixing together. I could almost feel their stares burning into my back.

Ivory crossed her arms and looked out the window, pretending I didn’t exist, but the stiffness in her posture told me she wasn’t happy. Not one bit.

The car door closed, and the driver finally pulled away, leaving her two friends standing by the gate—still wondering which one of us was the true Vohamis.

...----------------...

The leather seats were cold against my skin, even with the late afternoon heat pressing against the windows. The faint scent of perfume mixed with new car leather clung in the air—probably Ivory’s doing. She sat beside me, arms crossed so tightly you’d think she was about to squeeze the life out of herself.

Her legs were crossed too, one expensive heel tapping impatiently against the floor. The rhythmic tap, tap, tap was so loud in the quiet car, it felt like a countdown to a bomb explosion.

Finally, she turned her head toward me, her perfectly curled hair swaying just enough to make me want to flick it.

> “What was that all about?”

Her tone was sharp, like I had just stolen her favorite lipstick. I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes glued to the passing view outside, pretending to be fascinated by random lamp posts.

> “Is it true?” she asked again, her voice slightly higher now. “That you’re Yuno’s girlfriend?”

My silence must have annoyed her because she gave a short, humorless laugh.

> “Do you two… know each other?” she pressed, as if I’d suddenly break down and spill every life secret to her.

I stayed quiet. Not a single muscle in my face moved. I’d already decided from the start—I wasn’t giving her anything. Why? Because talking to the daughter of my dad from another snake was not on my list of “fun afternoon activities.”

She leaned slightly closer, maybe to intimidate me, but I just adjusted my seatbelt like she wasn’t even there.

> “You’re ignoring me?” she said, disbelief dripping from her voice.

Still nothing.

The driver’s eyes briefly flicked to the rearview mirror, probably wondering if he should pull over and grab popcorn.

Ivory let out an exasperated sigh and sat back, muttering under her breath.

> “Unbelievable… acting all quiet like she’s the victim.”

I heard it. Of course I heard it. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. The truth? Staying quiet was kind of fun—like holding the winning card and never showing it.

She crossed her arms even tighter now, staring at the tinted window with a scowl.

The car rolled forward in comfortable silence—for me, at least. For Ivory, every tick of the clock probably felt like torture.

At one point, she shifted in her seat and muttered, half to herself, half to me:

> “If you think being Yuno’s… whatever… makes you special, you’re wrong.”

I slowly turned my head toward her—not to talk, but just to make eye contact for one second. No words. No expressions. Just… blink.

She blinked back, visibly confused. Then I turned back to the window.

Her annoyed scoff echoed through the car.

The driver must have sensed the tension because he kept his eyes firmly on the road and didn’t say a word. Poor man. He probably signed up to drive a luxury car, not to witness the silent cold war of two Vohamis daughters.

By the time we reached the long driveway to the estate, Ivory’s tapping heel had gone silent. She was still frowning, still clearly dying to get a reaction out of me.

Too bad for her—this was my new favorite game.

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