Part 1The Undercover Heiress: How I Destroyed the Fake CEO's Daughter

[Breaking: Rumor has it the CEO’s daughter is doing an undercover internship in our department!!!] The message popped up in our department’s Slack channel.

I watched as my true identity was supposedly "exposed."

Then, Harper Sterling replied in the chat, dripping with fake humility: "Since I’m undercover, I really just want to keep a low profile and prove my own abilities. Let’s all just focus on our work, okay?

Instantly, my coworkers—including my own boyfriend—started kissing up to her.

Me, the actual CEO's daughter: ...

* * *

Every year before the company's Winter Holiday Gala, employee bonuses included limited-edition blind box figures.

Right before the holidays, our department’s group chat was buzzing with speculation about this year's theme.

Mid-conversation, Harper dropped a photo into the chat: "This year’s theme is The Olympian Gods. Don't leak this to anyone outside the department, guys!"

I stared at the screen, stunned. That kind of internal mock-up was restricted to the executive admin team. Harper was just an accounting intern like me. How did she get it?

Britney Hayes was the first to reply: "OMG! Only top-floor executives get intel like this early! Harper, confess! How long is a billionaire heiress like you planning to play undercover with us peasants?"

"Holy crap, so the rumors about the CEO's daughter interning here are true?!"

"The signs were all there! Harper's last name is Sterling, and our CEO is Mr. Sterling!"

"I knew Harper was built different. That canvas tote bag she carries every day? It looks so chic, totally not something us corporate slaves could afford."

I glanced at the plain, unbranded canvas bag on Harper's desk. We had a dozen of those at my house—they were complimentary dust bags from luxury boutiques that our maids used to carry groceries.

The coworkers were blowing this way out of proportion. I figured Harper would step up and clarify the misunderstanding.

After all, the Sterling family had produced nothing but boys for three generations. I was my dad’s only precious daughter.

Besides me, there was absolutely no other "CEO’s daughter" in this company.

My dad adored my mom. When I was born, my mom insisted I take her maiden name, Bennett. My dad agreed without a second thought. So, I was Chloe Bennett.

Sure enough, Harper replied a minute later.

However, her response was: "Since it's an undercover stint, I just want to keep a low profile and prove my worth. Let's not discuss this anymore, guys. Let's just do our jobs!

Me: ...

Talk about gaslighting. That non-denial was practically a megaphone.

As soon as she sent that, the chat went wild.

Coworker A: "Princess! I really want the Athena figure! Mercury is in retrograde and my luck is awful. Could you pull some strings and get me one? I'll carry your bags for a month! puppy dog eyes"

Coworker B: "Princess Harper! I want one too! I'll buy your coffee every day!"

Britney: "Back off, guys! Princess Harper, I want the whole Olympian set! Hahahaha!"

"I'd die for the full set! Princess, I will be your loyal servant for life!"

I read the messages and held back a laugh, assuming Harper wouldn't dare respond.

My dad’s corporation was massive, and the rules were incredibly strict. The whole point of the blind boxes was for employees to enjoy the thrill of the draw. Because of that, even family members like me didn’t get special privileges to bypass the system, let alone a mere intern.

But Harper responded, shattering my expectations of just how bottomless her vanity was.

"Alright," she typed. "I'll see what I can do. But just for you guys! The company rules are super strict, so keep it on the down-low."

I actually laughed out loud.

She knew the rules were strict, yet she still made a promise she couldn't keep. People calling her "Heiress" and "Princess" had clearly made her delusional.

Sitting across from me, Harper looked up, a smug smile on her face. "Chloe, do you want a figure too?"

I smiled back. "Can you really get company blind boxes early?"

Britney’s sharp voice cut in. "Chloe, what kind of question is that? Are you doubting the CEO's daughter? Typical try-hard charity case. You got a scholarship out of the boondocks and think you're hot stuff, but you'll never understand the superiority of someone born in Rome. Princess Harper, ignore her. Let's go get lunch."

Harper didn't address me or my question.

Instead, she picked up a stack of files, looking distressed. "But the Director told me to organize these spreadsheets by noon, and I'm only half done..."

Britney snatched the files and slammed them down on my desk. "Chloe, finish organizing these for Harper."

I tossed them right back at her. "Do your own work."

Britney threw them back at me, barking a command. "Harper is the Princess of this company! Don't you try-hards love showing off? Letting you do the Princess's work is doing you a favor. Got it?"

I threw the files back one last time, muttered "Psychopath," and stood up to leave for my lunch break.

Britney shrieked behind me. "Don't be an ungrateful bitch, Chloe! You think passing a few exams makes you special? Harper's family owns this place! One word to her dad, and your chances of a full-time offer are dead!"

I could have died laughing. The only one dreaming here was Harper.

I was in a rush to meet my boyfriend for lunch and couldn't be bothered to argue. I walked out, hearing several coworkers swarming Harper to brown-nose her, eagerly volunteering to do her spreadsheets.