Fake Mate Beta Rises to Alpha Heiress (Natalie) novel Chapter 40

40 /100

**Chapter 40: Prove**

**Natalie’s POV:**

With an air of composure, I posed a question that had been nagging at me. “Ms. Scott, I trust you won’t mind my inquiry—what are you up to right now? I heard whispers that you were invited to the international charity dinner in Calithera tonight. Are you attending the event?”

A pregnant pause hung in the air, stretching the silence between us. Then, a voice, tinged with urgency and a hint of panic, broke through. “Oh, yes… yes, I’m at the dinner! Sorry, things are about to get underway. I need to end this call!”

Before Rebecca or anyone else could even process what had just occurred, “Ms. Scott” abruptly terminated the call, leaving the phone to beep incessantly in our ears.

The smug expression that had graced Rebecca’s face evaporated like mist in the morning sun. A flicker of doubt crossed her features, but she seemed reluctant to delve deeper into the matter. In a swift motion, she snatched the phone from my hand and shot me a glare that could curdle milk. “Natalie! Did you hear that? Ms. Scott just outright stated she doesn’t know you!”

I regarded her with a mixture of pity and exasperation, as though she were a puzzle missing a crucial piece.

With a sneer that dripped with disdain, I replied, “Rebecca, where on earth did you stumble upon this ‘Ms. Scott’? She’s nothing but a con artist! Can’t you see that? After all those years in school, has your brain turned to mush? Honestly, you’re dumber than a little pup!”

My words landed with a brutal precision, sharp and cutting.

Rebecca’s cheeks flared a bright crimson, a vivid testament to her fury. She was practically radiating frustration, her emotions swirling chaotically around her. “Natalie! You’re spewing utter nonsense! Can’t you handle the sting of defeat?”

The truth was, deep down, Rebecca wasn’t completely convinced that the woman was genuine. Just last week, she had managed to wiggle her way into a so-called “Maritime City socialites’ group.” Within that circle, she had encountered this elusive “Ms. Scott.” The members treated her like royalty, showering her with admiration and lavish gifts. She would frequently flaunt stacks of cash and share snapshots from extravagant soirées. Rebecca had jumped through hoops to “verify” that this woman was indeed the heiress of the fabled Scott family.

Then came the kicker: the woman insisted that to add her as a private contact, one would need to transfer a hefty sum of 100 thousand dollars as a “socialite identity verification” fee.

That monumental sum loomed over Rebecca like a dark cloud, making it nearly impossible for her to accept the possibility that she might have been duped. Plus, on “Ms. Scott’s” social media, she constantly showcased her opulent lifestyle, which seemed all too real.

“The international charity dinner concluded in Calithera the night before last. You can find the reports all over the internet. The Scott family’s heiress was indeed on the guest list. How could she not be aware if she attended?” I stated, my voice laced with unwavering confidence.

As soon as I finished, a classmate whipped out their phone in a frenzy to verify my words.

“Goodness gracious! The dinner was two days ago! There are articles about it! The Scott family’s heiress was definitely in attendance!” a classmate exclaimed, their voice rising in disbelief as they waved the screen around for everyone to see.

The report was unmistakable: Alexander’s daughter, the heiress of the Scott Group, had graced the charity dinner in Calithera with her presence for her international debut.