Unveiling Samantha by Veronica Wright

Chapter 1 Dna Test And The Disowning Deed

As the evening crept in, the Vanderbilt residence, the home to one of the three most prestigious families in Astoria, was buzzing with action. The high-ceilinged main hall was decked out with twinkling lights, and clusters of snazzily dressed guests were laughing and chatting, each holding a glass of fancy wine in their hands. It was the 18th birthday party of Adrienne Vanderbilt, the daughter of the Vanderbilt family and the talk of the town. She was wearing a pale pink strapless dress, her makeup on point. With the corners of her lips curving into a gentle arc, she gave off the vibe of a young lady from a distinguished family.

“Ms. Vanderbilt, you’re truly accomplished at such a young age, already the protégée of Professor Brooks. You’ve inherited the genes of the Vanderbilt family indeed.” A girl in a slick black dress, one of those limited edition types, cozied up to Adrienne, oblivious to the latter’s disdainful expression.

Despite her displeasure, Adrienne smiled politely at the girl, choosing not to speak.

“Adrie,” came a voice from the crowd, “we’ll need to receive the guests later. Mr. Royce Seaver’s here. Didn’t you wanna learn painting from him? Go show off those artsy skills of yours!”

Hearing that, Adrienne scanned the scene and her eyes landed on a dude in a sharp black suit, his hair delicately framing his forehead, a gentle smile gracing his lips. As their eyes met, his face lit up with a kind of softness reserved just for her.

“Conrad!” she beamed, making a beeline for him, her heels clacking on the marble floor.

That dude was Conrad Vanderbilt, the eldest son of the Vanderbilt family. “Whoa there, careful,” Conrad said, catching her just in time. “You wanna trip in those heels?”

Adrienne just giggled and stuck out her tongue. “Can’t help it! But hold up, did I hear it right? Is Mr. Seaver really here? We’ve invited him before, but he’s always declined…”

“Yep.” Conrad nodded, a chuckle escaping him as he saw her pumped-up face. “He’s gotta notice you’ve been studying his style lately.”

Just then, one of the security guys dashed over and whispered something to Conrad. Then Conrad’s face darkened. Adrienne, who was close by, overheard a bit—Conrad had to step out to meet someone. Adrienne hoped they didn’t come looking for trouble, or she wouldn’t show any mercy.

“Adrie, chill here, okay? I gotta check something out,” Conrad said, already moving away before she could say anything.

He hit the front door and stopped short. There was this girl, looking way out of place, with a bunch of bulky security dudes around her. She was dressed in somber attire, and her well-worn white shoes bore the marks of time, their edges tinged with a faint yellow hue. Holding some documents in her hand, she kept her head low, casting a shadow over her features. Hanging off one shoulder was a ratty old backpack. Even under the dim porch light, Conrad could spot that she was pale, like super pale—could be makeup, could be she was sick or something.

But what got Conrad’s gears turning wasn’t her get-up; it was her face. She was like a reflection, with brows and a nose that screamed “family.” He couldn’t shake the feeling she looked a lot like him.

She was stone-cold chill until she lifted her eyes. “You Conrad Vanderbilt?” she asked, her voice scratchy.

Conrad, yanked from his thoughts, only managed an “Uh-huh,” as he got a good look at her. Just then, he clocked a big, gnarly scar on her cheek.

“Okay, so check out these papers. If they’re cool, sign them.” The girl’s voice conveyed impatience as she advanced, extending the papers toward Conrad.

The bodyguards tensed up, stepping closer to keep an eye on her.

Conrad gave the papers an once-over and scoffed, “Why would I do anything for you? What’s in it for me?”

She locked eyes with him, her brows pinching together. Then, she cracked an icy sorta smile. “Sign here, and it’s like I never existed to y’all. Say no, and you get to keep a new relative who shares your blood. Your call. I got places to be.” She cocked an eyebrow, and that scar of hers danced a bit.

Conrad’s mind raced. ‘A new relative who shares our blood? What’s she on about?’ The documents in her hand started to feel heavy with bad vibes. The gossip mill had been churning recently with talk that Adrienne didn’t really look like any of the Vanderbilts. Conrad was pondering all this when a friendly male voice came from behind. “Conrad, what’s the hold-up?”

The voice’s owner arrived at Conrad’s side. It was Lincoln Vanderbilt, strolling up beside him and peering over at the papers the girl was waving around. He glanced from her wrist up to her face, and even with the gnarly scar, he saw something familiar.

The girl, who went by Samantha Vanderbilt, jiggled the papers again, sounding kinda rushed. “I gotta leave soon. It’s not rocket science, just sign them.”

Conrad wasn’t budging, though; something about all this felt mega complicated, and he figured soothing Samantha was the first step.

Lincoln caught Conrad’s wary vibe and snagged the papers to look them over himself. It was a DNA test result. His eyes dug into the report—Hansel Vanderbilt was listed as Samantha’s dad, and Kathleen Fontaine as her mom. At the bottom of the page was the seal of Angevin General Hospital. Lincoln’s brain was racing now. ‘She’s my actual sis? Then what about Adrienne?’ It hit him like a ton of bricks, and Lincoln went statue-still. He sucked in some air and flipped to the next paper, a deed saying goodbye to all family ties, with Samantha’s wild signature right there in ink.

“What’s the matter?” Conrad asked, totally lost at Lincoln’s blank look. Then he reached out for the documents, gotten hit with the same truck of shock.

Clock was ticking—Samantha checked her watch; it was getting late. “I’m nearly late for work. You guys gonna decide or what?”

“Work? But you’re just a kid,” Lincoln said, tearing up a bit as he took in her simple clothes.

“This ain’t about you. Yes or no? This is a win for you all. I’m out, and you don’t have to deal with me. So what’s there to think about?” Samantha’s fuse was getting short. She sounded more annoyed as each second ticked by.

Lincoln felt his heart squeeze so tight he could barely breathe, watching Samantha acting all cold and distant.

“Look, we can’t just give you a yes or no right now.” Conrad spoke up, his voice steady. “Looks like rain’s coming. How about this—you come in and hang tight while I talk it over with my dad. I’ll hook you up with some cash, double what you make at work, just for the trouble.” He knew they couldn’t just decide like that, so he was counting on Lincoln to pry a bit and figure out what Samantha’s deal was.

Those papers looked legit, for real. She didn’t seem to care a bit about the wealthy Vanderbilt family, not interested in sticking around or making nice. There had to be something else going on under the hood.

Samantha chewed on it for a second, and then nodded okay.

Both Conrad and Lincoln let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, and the security guys stepped aside to let her through.

The minute Samantha stepped into the main hall, heads turned. Some guests gave her side-eye, whispering, “Since when do the Vanderbilts let anyone walk right in?”