Fake Heiress Took My Place, Now They Regret It

###Chapter 1

The city smelled like rain and broken dreams as I crouched on the cracked sidewalk, wrestling with stray dogs over scraps of food.

Suddenly, a sleek black Maybach rolled to a stop beside me.

The door swung open and out stepped a man who was so handsome he might've been plucked right out of a fairy tale with a presence that silenced the world around him.

He barked an order to his men to buy me ten loaves of bread. Then, hesitating, he looked my way, like he wanted to say something but couldn't.

I swallowed the bread fast and stepped forward, breathless with gratitude.

"Thank you!"

Yet, this socalled prince charming wasn't quite the fairy tale hero I imagined. I wasn't his Cinderella, dreaming of being swept away on his noble steed from my darkest moments.

Contrarily, pure revulsion etched his features as he sneered at me before redirecting his gaze.

He recoiled as though I were infectious and then climbed back into the car, holding a stunning young woman.

From the corner of my eye, I caught her.

The girl was straddling his lap, tugging at his collar.

"Michael," she cooed, "you wiped Kristen's memory and let her become homeless so that I could claim the Lawson fortune. Aren't you worried she'll remember and take everything back?"

The man smirked coldly. "She had everything and still wanted to compete with you, the adopted daughter! The doctor said you've got a year left. That time's mine to spend with you. After that, I'll fix Kristen."

Suddenly, pain exploded in my head. Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave.

I dropped to my knees, clutching my pounding skull.

I remembered...

I'm Kristen Lawson.

The true Lawson heiress.

...

Kristen's POV

Michael Donovan, my fiancé and the man I loved more than anything stole everything from me to give it to Courtney Lawson, my adopted sister.

More than six months ago, I was thrown into traffic and hit by a speeding car at the intersection.

Blood soaked my lower body.

Right on that same day, I had just discovered I was pregnant. I was planning to tell Michael the good news.

Instead, I lost my baby.

I lost my memory and had no recollection of who I was.

For six months, I wandered the streets, barely living on the leftover scraps of the garbage and the alms I got from passersby.

But, perhaps, the heavens had heard my pleas.

Looking at my fiancé and my adopted sister cuddling in the car, everything became crystal clear.

I wasn't just homeless. I was erased.

A cold shiver ran through me as I looked up at an LED billboard outside the shopping mall. The screen showed images of Michael and Courtney, looking like the perfect couple.

As I listened to the live news streaming on it, the cold tingling against my skin intensified.

The reporter announced:

[Donovan Enterprises' CEO spares no expense to make his beloved fiancée smile. Private jets fly nonstop to ChampsÉlysées, Paris, delivering the latest for Miss Courtney Lawson.]

Jewelry, luxury watches, and cars worth fortunes were all paraded on the news.

Adding to that, there was another featured news story, and it was my brother William, the heir to the Lawsons' fortune. Also making headlines, he was reported to be streaming his sister's highprofile birthday party.

Announcing on his social media account, William gifted his 'only beloved sister' a mansion worth over $100 million.

They must have forgotten one thing.

Courtney's birthday was also my birthday.

I looked down at my tattered clothes and my bare, scarred feet and then back at Courtney in the car, all dolled up with highend luxury brands.

I lived beneath a bridge, drinking dirty water to survive.

Meanwhile, they pampered Courtney, treating her like the real Lawson heiress and turning her into a golden princess.

Trembling, tears streamed down my face.

As I watched them inside the Maybach, their conversation continued.

Flashing a sweet smile, Courtney said, “The doctor told me my condition’s getting better. I might have a few more years. Michael, will you stay with me forever?”

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation. “That was our deal. No matter how long you live, I’m yours.”

Courtney let out a soft sigh. “But... I’m scared you’ll go back to Kristen. The way you looked at her just now... it hurt, Michael. You still care, don’t you? Seeing her like that, you felt sorry for her, didn’t you?”

Michael went quiet for a beat, then gave a cold, dry laugh.

“Sorry for her? Why would I? Kristen’s selfish. She’s always scheming against you. I told her I’d still marry her—she should be thankful for that.”

Every word tore through my soul.

Courtney's eyes flicked toward me from the shadows. She curled her lips into a cruel smile, wrapping her arms around Michael's neck.

Like a kitten, she stuck out her pink tongue and licked his cheek. "But my birthday's coming, Michael. I want the most special gift."

I watched them kiss, trapped in that cramped car.

Courtney's cheeks flushed.

Michael's breath hitched, his throat tightening. "What gift, baby?"

Nestled in his arms, Courtney's hand slipped under his shirt, caressing his rising chest.

"I want your baby, Michael," she cooed.

Her dreamy eyes sparked something primal in him.

Aroused by her words, Michael growled, "You little devil, I'll fuck you hard tonight until you're pregnant with my babies."

He turned to face her, pinned her in the car seat, and kissed her.

Courtney giggled playfully as they frolicked, then gently pushed him and asked, "What if I really get pregnant?"

Michael grinned—dark, dangerous, and utterly heartless. "Then Kristen will raise the baby. That way, our child can have a perfect, happy life."

The words struck like a dagger. I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails pierced my skin, but I couldn't feel anything past the agony swelling in my chest.

My body could no longer hold the grief within. Tears continuously flowed down my cheeks, seeing them together.

For years, Michael had never been like that to me in our relationship.

He touched her like he worshipped her, his fingers curling around her chest as he slid down the strap of her dress and pressed his lips to her collarbone.

Courtney moaned softly, breathy and sweet, like she knew she had won.

Then, with a feline smirk, she straddled him.

She tugged his belt free, undid his pants, and dipped down without hesitation. Michael groaned in pleasure.

His hips flexed as he moved with her, into her, and in the next breath, she was beneath him, the car rocking to the rhythm of their bodies.

Courtney's soft, sultry, and victorious laugh danced through the air, blending with gasps and muffled cries.

My heart didn't just break. It fucking crumbled. Over and over again.

Meanwhile, I begged for scraps of his warmth, tried everything—softness, seduction, surrender.

Yet, Michael always pulled away, cold and repulsed, like I was something vile clinging to him.

I thought he was just like that. And that maybe he wasn't the kind of man who could be touched.

But here he was, giving Courtney everything.

No hesitation. No restraint. No shame.

His cold and indifferent attitude towards me was now evident.

Michael didn't want my child. He didn't want me.

But Courtney? She had his body, soul, and future.

That was the moment I finally saw the line between love and indifference.

Let them have each other.

They belong to the hollow world they built.

###Chapter 2

Kristen's POV

I walked away from the stillshaking Maybach, my legs barely steady under me.

Trying to steady myself, I borrowed a phone from a passerby and called my parents, who'd been scouring the globe trying to find me.

The moment my sobbing voice reached them, I heard Dad break down on the other end.

"Your mom's been sick from worry, Kristen. She hasn't eaten or slept properly since you went missing. Once she feels a little better, we're coming back immediately, sweetheart!"

"Don't worry," he promised fiercely, "I won't let that ungrateful snake, Courtney, get away with this. And those two bastards? I swear, they'll pay for what they've done to you!"

Courtney...

She was the girl I begged my parents to adopt years ago when we were visiting an orphanage during a charity event. The other kids were bullying her, and stones were thrown at her and spit on her.

I couldn't bear to watch, so I begged my parents to adopt her.

Who would've thought that my one act of kindness would spiral into the nightmare that's become my life?

For the first couple of years, Courtney seemed friendly, kind, and compassionate. However, once my parents left overseas to expand the company personally, putting my older brother, William, in charge of everything, things changed.

One day, after work, William came home and found Courtney suddenly on her knees before me.

I was stunned.

Before I could say a word, she started slapping herself hard until her face was covered in red handprints. She then grabbed the hem of my dress, wailing and bowing to the ground like some pitiful victim.

In a sickening, desperate voice, Courtney begged, "Kristen, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I never dared to dream of replacing you as the daughter of the Lawson family. Please, just let me go. Please don't hurt me again!"

William rushed over, cradling her protectively, but his eyes burned with hatred for me.

"What the hell did you do, Kristen? You're a monster," he spat.

And just a few days later, when Michael came to visit me, Courtney accidentally smashed the birthday gift he had just given me.

She fell to the floor, hand cut and bleeding, and reached out with tears in her eyes.

"I never meant to break your things, and I never tried to seduce your fiancé. Please, don't hurt me anymore…"

Michael's face twisted with anger. "When did you become this cruel?"

Before I could say a word, he scooped up the sobbing Courtney and left.

From that point on, Courtney dumped more and more of her lies on me.

The worse her stories became, the colder everyone grew toward me.

No matter how I tried to explain, no one would listen. They just glared at or ignored me like I was filth.

Even when I showed Michael surveillance footage proving the truth, he slapped the phone out of my hands and didn't believe me.

"Don't think you can frame Courtney with some fakeass video. She's kind and sweet. She'd never stoop to your level."

He said he was 'deeply disappointed' in me and postponed our wedding.

The last straw came when Michael postponed our wedding and started showing up at major social events with Courtney on his arm.

She wore all the gowns, the bags, and the jewelry that were meant for me.

And my brother?

He announced publicly that Courtney was his only sister, the real Lawson heiress.

As I remember all those painful memories, I felt like I was being stabbed again, like a thousand little knives.

After calling my parents, I handed the phone back to the stranger and wandered the street, arms wrapped tightly around myself, lost.

Just then, out of nowhere, a bucket of filthy dishwater came raining down on me from above, soaking me from head to toe.

I was drenched in grease and stinking slime.

"Where the hell did this beggar come from? Get lost!" someone shouted.

As people started yelling and shooing me away, I collapsed to the ground and broke down in tears.

That's when a pair of polished black dress shoes appeared in front of me.

I looked up, and there was my brother, Willian Lawson, staring down at me with disgust written all over his face.

"God, you're such a disgrace," he snapped.

William yanked me off the ground, forced me into a livestock transport truck like I was some dirty animal, and shut the doors behind me.

Eventually, the truck pulled into the Lawson family estate, which was so painfully familiar. Then he dragged me straight to the servants' bathroom.

"You were never the daughter of this house," he sneered. "Courtney took pity on you and convinced us to adopt you. You should've been grateful. Instead, you tried to replace her—tried to steal her life. Don't forget, you've been on the streets for months now. You've learned your lesson, haven't you? So be smart. Behave. Or I'll throw you right back out there with the rats."

I stared at him, horrified at how easily he lied, playing the noble older brother to cover the truth.

But I thought of all the nights I'd slept under bridges, drank from puddles, fought dogs for scraps, and I told myself to hold on a little longer.

'Mom and Dad will come back...'

I clenched my hands so hard my palms went white and forced myself to nod. "I'll be good. Please don't throw me out again."

My voice shook. My eyes burned red with the tears I refused to let fall.

William gave a dismissive grunt, like he was done with me, and left.

I turned on the hot water, scrubbing my greasy, grimy body over and over again. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, the stench—inside and out—just clung to me.

Even over the sound of the water, I could hear the maids outside gossiping and snickering.

"She really thinks she's still the Lawson heiress? Compared to Miss Courtney, she's not even good enough to be a servant."

"God knows how many men she slept with on the streets. Do you think Sir Michael would still want her? He's worth billions! He's obviously gonna marry someone like Miss Courtney. Beautiful. Elegant."

"Right? She was always jealous and always mean. She totally deserves this."

I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand.

William made it clear. This house didn't belong to me anymore. There was no place for me here.

Shivering, I dried myself off, only to realize he hadn't even bothered to leave me clean clothes.

I cracked the door open and poked my head out, planning to ask a maid for something to wear.

That's when a cold voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Why are you all just standing around, gossiping? Is this how things are run on this estate now?"

Right there in the doorway was Michael.

My heart dropped.

Our eyes met.

He stared at me, standing there dripping wet with only a towel wrapped around me.

Michael's brows furrowed in confusion and something close to surprise.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

###Chapter 3

Kristen's POV

"Sir Michael," the maid piped up, stepping forward with a sly grin, "it was Sir William who brought her back. Said the Master and Madam are coming back soon, and we should take care of her properly so that they wouldn't get upset."

Then she turned to me with a smug little smirk and rolled her eyes. "Or maybe you knew Sir Michael was coming and decided to strut around halfnaked on purpose, huh? Trying to seduce him now? You really don't quit."

'How downright audacious of her to even mock me?'

But I didn't say anything. Didn't even look at her. What was the point?

In front of me, Michael's sharp gaze landed on me like a knife. "Kristen, you really are trying to seduce me, huh? Even with amnesia, you can't stay away."

There was something disturbingly pleased in his voice. He shrugged off his coat and draped it over my bare shoulders like it was some chivalrous gesture.

The scent of it—sharp and clean, that same cloying hawthorn cologne he always wore—rushed up my nose, and bile surged in my throat.

All I could see in my mind was the image of him with Courtney in that car. The way he touched her, kissed her, gave her everything I had begged for.

Without hesitation, I peeled the coat away and handed it back.

"I'm just the maid around here," I said calmly. "Pretty sure I don't deserve that kind of attention from someone like you, Mr. Donovan."

I knew what he expected. Gratitude. Flushed cheeks. Adoration.

But I looked at him with none of that.

Just blank, cool indifference. And Michael hated it.

"Fine. Have it your way," he sneered, his jaw clenching.

He flicked his eyes at the maid, and she scurried off before returning with a wrinkled maid's uniform, tossing it straight into my arms like garbage.

"If you want to act like the help, then do your damn job," he snapped, glaring at me one last time before storming off.

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

With the broom in one hand and shame in the other, I swept my way down the halls to the outside of my brother's study. That's when I heard their voices—Michael and Courtney's loyal lapdog, my own brother, William.

Michael was speaking first.

"I mean, sure, I planned the accident. But it was only to help Courtney. She needed someone to stand up for her. That's all. You're the one who took it further and had Kristen drugged into forgetting everything. So that she wouldn't hurt Courtney anymore."

"You've done so much for her in secret," Michael added, "Don't you ever wish she knew the truth?"

I froze.

William's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "As long as Courtney's happy in the time she has left, she doesn't have to know. I'll stay the nameless hero if that's what it takes."

My whole body got cold.

So that was it.

'William wanted to be a hero… so you made me the villain? You sacrificed me, your own sister, to make Courtney happy?'

I pressed in closer, barely breathing.

Then William said something that made my blood run colder. "And what about Kristen? Heard you're planning to have a baby with Courtney. What happens to Kristen then?"

Michael gave a bitter scoff. "Kristen? Please. She was already 'used up' in college. Do you think someone like her is fit to carry my heir? Courtney is pure. She's the only one worthy of having a child of mine."

William didn't say anything, so Michael went on like he hadn't just gutted me with those words.

"So yeah. When the hospital called and said Kristen was pregnant, I arranged that car crash. You think I'd let her trap me with a baby that might not even be mine? Marrying her was already charity."

I clutched the broom handle so hard it felt like my fingers would snap.

'That baby… the one I lost in that crash…'

Because I was 'dirty'? Because he couldn't be sure it was his?

Did Michael really forget everything?

In our junior year, he was kidnapped during a latenight ride. I'd followed him, only to be taken instead.

I was the one who got dragged into that abandoned building, the one they hurt. Again and again.

When they finally found me, I was barely conscious, bleeding out. The doctor said I might never carry a child again.

I'd been spiraling deep in depression, barely able to breathe.

Michael even held me through it. Cried with me. Promised me everything.

"I'll make them suffer," he said back then. "Every one of them. I'll destroy them for what they did to you."

And he did.

He showed me a video of them—those men—screaming in some godforsaken warehouse. I had nightmares for weeks. And every night, he was there, holding me, whispering how he'd never leave, that we'd be together forever.

He even blew half his fortune to plan the perfect wedding, swearing he loved me more than life itself.

But now?

Now, he was calling me filthy, acting like I was nothing, like everything I gave was meaningless.

"Courtney wants a beautiful wedding before she dies," Michael was saying, his voice suddenly soft, eyes probably glassy. "And I'm gonna give it to her."

"You're not worried Kristen might get her memory back and ruin everything?" William asked.

Michael sneered. "We'll just have the doctor sedate her again. Keep her dumb and clueless. Problem solved."

They were talking about me like I wasn't even human. Like I was just some broken doll, they could program and reset me when I got inconvenient.

Like I wasn't once my brother's sister.

Like I wasn't still his fiancée.

I stepped back, my breath caught in my throat, heart pounding in my ears. My lips pressed together to keep from screaming.

###Chapter 4

Kristen's POV

My heart felt dead, cold, and hollow, like ashes left after a fire, as I stumbled back to my bedroom, desperate for refuge.

I thought this room was my last sanctuary, my one place left untouched.

But the moment I pushed open the door, my heart sank.

Everything was gone.

Garish pinks had replaced the minimal, elegant decor I had loved.

My cozy study was converted into a massive walkin closet filled with luxury handbags, tiny dresses, and rows of high heels.

My books—rare editions I had spent years collecting—were nowhere to be found.

Out on the balcony, the small turtle I'd raised for years had vanished. In its place was a purebred Persian cat with an arrogant glare, lounging as if it owned the world.

I couldn't believe it. While I was lost to the world and my parents searched everywhere for me, they wiped every trace of me from this house.

I stood frozen. This wasn't my room anymore.

In the time I'd been 'missing,' and while my parents were off searching for me, they had erased every trace of me, rewritten my existence, and replaced me with her.

Laughter and flattery floated in from outside my door.

"Miss Courtney, you were born to wear that dress!" one voice said. "You look like a dream!"

Another chimed in, "It's no wonder Sir Michael's so taken with you. Everything about you just... sparkles."

Then she walked in.

Courtney.

Drenched in designer perfume and swathed in a gleaming white wedding gown, she entered like a goddess descending from the clouds. Her cheeks glowed, her lips were plump and red, and joy clung to every flutter of her lashes.

She glanced down at my wrinkled housemaid's uniform and gave me a thin, satisfied smile.

"This dress," she said sweetly, "looks familiar, doesn't it?"

It did.

It was the one Michael had claimed he'd commissioned for me—a oneofakind gown from a Parisian designer. I'd once tried it on and found the chest area too loose.

When it first arrived, I thought it didn't fit right.

I remembered even telling him, "Michael, it's too loose around the bust. Have the designer adjust it."

But, back then, he hadn't even looked up from his magazine and replied, "You'll fill it out once you've had the baby."

I hadn't thought much of it then.

Now, staring at Courtney's perfectly full figure spilling into the gown like it had been molded for her...

I understood.

It had never been mine.

Just like the ring that was always a little too tight.

Just like the wedding itself.

Just like him.

Michael's bride had always been Courtney.

Watching my devastated expression, Courtney arrogantly cooed, "You don't look pleased."

I dropped my eyes and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I lost my memory. I don't remember that dress."

She frowned, clearly disappointed by my lack of reaction.

I turned to leave.

Then, suddenly, Courtney grabbed a pair of scissors from the closet and began shredding the dress into pieces. Ribbons of silk fluttered to the ground.

She dropped the scissors, messed up her hair, then flung herself to the floor in a dramatic heap, sobbing.

"I just wanted one beautiful wedding before I die! And you couldn't even let me have that?"

The door slammed open.

Michael stormed in, eyes blazing. The moment he saw the ruined dress, his fury exploded.

"Kristen, you unbelievable bitch! Even with amnesia, you're still the same selfish, bitter woman! Do you even know how much this wedding means to Courtney?"

I shook my head frantically. "I didn't touch it! She...she cut it up herself—"

Michael cut me off, bellowing, "Shut up! I can't stand the sound of your voice!"

He cradled Courtney in his arms, pressing kisses into her hair and onto her lips like a man possessed like he wanted to prove something.

Like he wanted to hurt me with how deeply, madly he adored her.

I stood there, stiff and silent, as he swept her up and carried her out, brushing past me like I was invisible.

Courtney glanced over his shoulder at me with a victorious smile. "Kristen, you'd better watch yourself."

The sun streamed in warmly through the windows.

But I was ice.

...

However, the nightmare was far from over.

At dinner, the butler summoned me to join the rest of the family.

Cautiously, I stepped into the dining room.

William was waiting. Without a word, he reached for the ruby necklace around my neck, an heirloom passed down for nine generations in our family.

My mother had given it to me personally.

But he unfastened it and handed it to Courtney.

Then, William proudly announced, "With this, you're officially the daughter of the Lawson family."

He didn't even look at me and said, "Kristen still hasn't learned her place. A maid is all she deserves to be."

My breath caught in my throat. 'How could my brother, flesh and blood, even do this to me?'

That necklace was mine. It was the last piece of my identity that hadn't been stripped away.

"You can't do this," I said, voice trembling. "No! That belongs to me. You don't deserve it!"

So I lunged for it.

Quickly, Courtney dropped to her knees, clutching the necklace in both hands.

"You're right. I don't deserve it," Courtney sobbed. "Here! Take it back!"

As soon as my fingers brushed the pendant, she let go.

The necklace slipped through my hands and shattered on the marble floor.

A sharp gasp cut through the room.

Blood trickled down her palm from a small cut.

Michael rushed to her side in an instant.

"Get the doctor!" he barked at the butler, holding her like she was made of porcelain.

William pointed a trembling, furious finger at me. "You broke the necklace and injured your sister? How dare you! You owe her an apology!"

That word again...

'Sorry...'

Since the day Courtney showed up, it had become my mantra.

'I'm sorry I tripped her.'

'I'm sorry I got more compliments at the gala.'

'I'm sorry, I saw the text she sent Michael asking him to meet her at the hotel.'

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!'

My mouth was dry. My eyes burned.

But, still, I bowed.

Once. Twice. Three times.

And right under their judging stare, I resignedly bowed to Courtney. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Then I looked up at the man I had once loved and the brother I'd trusted with my life.

"Well? Is that enough for you two? Are you satisfied now?"

###Chapter 5

Kristen's POV

A streak of fresh blood stained the corner of my lips. Michael's eyes flickered, his chest rising and falling in a tense, shallow rhythm.

"Cut the act," he snapped. "Losing your memory doesn't excuse you for bullying Courtney!"

William's face was icy, his tone cutting like a blade. "Mom and Dad aren't even here. Who are you trying to impress with this pathetic performance?"

Before I could say a word, the doctor arrived. Without looking back, Michael pushed past me, clutching Courtney protectively in his arms.

William turned back before leaving, warning me, "Courtney's birthday is coming up. I'm warning you, Kristen. Don't try any stunts. One more slipup, and you'll regret it."

This was supposed to be my home, my sanctuary. Instead, it felt like a cage, cold and suffocating. I couldn't stay another second.

That night, the housekeeper came and relocated me to a room fit for a prison: moldy, cold, not even a window—just a broken bed and four walls that smelled like rot.

...

At dawn, I walked straight out without looking back.

But fate wasn't done with me yet.

When I stepped outside, a mob of reporters ambushed me like vultures around a carcass.

Cameras. Microphones. Lights. Dozens of them, closing in like a pack of wolves.

I froze, heart pounding in terror.

"Miss Lawson," one sneered, "rumor has it you've been sleeping around and abusing drugs. Got yourself amnesia from partying too hard—care to comment?"

Someone eyed my shabby uniform and sneered. "So the primandproper heiress act was just that? Seems like your family finally saw through you."

Another voice chimed in, sharper, nastier. "We heard you've had multiple abortions. Can't even get pregnant anymore. Is it true you're just a barren, broken little bird now?"

Shame crashed down on me like a tidal wave. My throat closed. I couldn't breathe.

Their words stabbed me, one after another—sharp, merciless, leaving invisible wounds that bled inside my chest.

I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and they kept falling gently to the ground.

Suddenly, William stormed out, fury radiating from every step.

"You've brought shame to Lawson's name!" he spat.

Then he turned to bark at the staff, "Where are the damn security guards?! Get these paparazzi out of here!"

But the cameras pushed on, relentless.

Just so, a car pulled up at the gate. Michael stepped out, frowning, walking quickly toward us.

He saw me first—pale, trembling, eyes wide with panic—and stepped forward to shield me slightly with his body.

"She doesn't remember anything," he said coldly. "What are you trying to do, harass a trauma patient?"

A woman's voice cut through the noise, smug and bright. "Is she refusing to answer because the rumors are true? Just some druggedout party slut who slept her way through half the city?"

Cameras surged forward again.

A few reporters even went live, shoving phones and mics directly in my face.

"The oncerevered Miss Lawson turns out to be just a cautionary tale. Ladies, don't be like her. You play with fire, and your womb ends up burnt."

I stumbled backward, crushed by shame, retreating behind Michael even as the cameras kept rolling—capturing my humiliation in HD.

Then she appeared.

Courtney, dressed like a fairytale in white chiffon, walked gracefully out into the courtyard.

Like magic, the energy shifted.

Cameras immediately swiveled toward her. The jeers turned to awe.

Michael moved instantly, instinctively, like she was made of glass, wrapping his arm around her and shielding her like she was some precious national treasure.

Gone was the coldness.

He looked almost… protective.

The reporters, now syrupy sweet, cooed at her like she was royalty:

"Now that's a real lady, pure, poised, just the kind of girl who deserves the Lawson name."

"She and Michael look like the perfect couple. You should move up the wedding and make it official!"

Courtney gave them a shy, graceful smile, basking in praise.

The light faded from my eyes. My knees buckled.

A thud came, and I collapsed heavily to the ground.

###Chapter 6

Kristen's POV

Faint voices drifted in and out as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

Somewhere nearby, William's voice pierced through the fog.

"Couldn't you have handled this behind closed doors? Did you really have to make a scene and embarrass our family like that?"

Michael shot back, his tone sharp. "I told you already, it wasn't me who called the reporters. You're the one who staged the whole thing to force Kristen out."

William sounded indignant. "Don't be ridiculous. Sure, my sister has been a problem lately, but she's still a Lawson by blood. You think I'd stoop that low?"

Their performance made me want to laugh. How noble they sounded, pretending to be innocent while standing over the ruins they helped create.

But it didn't matter who made the call.

What mattered was that the cameras had already captured everything they wanted.

From now on, I'd be branded as the town's whore and the disgraced heiress.

They'd torn me down to protect Courtney's delicate image.

And now, here she came, gliding into the room like a porcelain doll with her head bowed just enough to look virtuous.

"Because of what Kristen did," Courtney murmured, voice full of trembling innocence, "people are laughing at me. I'm too ashamed to go outside."

William immediately reached out, gently stroking her hair.

"Don't be upset. I had that custom ruby necklace made just for you. It arrived this morning. Come on, I'll show you."

Hand in hand, they left the room, a perfect picture of harmony that hollowed me out inside.

Through tearblurred eyes, I caught Michael at my bedside.

"You get it now, don't you?" he said, voice as cold as ice. "That's who you really were, Kristen. And now you're just facing the consequences. If you'd been more like Courtney, maybe you wouldn't be everyone's favorite punching bag."

I said nothing. Just let him rewrite the story in whatever way helped him sleep at night.

Because as long as I was the villain, he could justify marrying his sweet, spotless princess.

A knock sounded.

The butler entered, sneering at my bedraggled face.

"Miss Lawson, Sir William says you're to work off your sins. You've dragged the family name through the mud, and thanks to you, the Lawson stock has tanked."

Michael looked like he wanted to say something, but I was already sitting up.

I didn't wait. Didn't argue.

I got out of bed and went to work.

Cleaning, scrubbing, and dusting every inch of the estate like I wasn't the daughter of the house but just another servant.

Eventually, I made it to William's room.

That's when I saw his phone lying face down on the carpet.

I don't know what made me pick it up.

Maybe curiosity. Maybe desperation.

Then, I typed in Courtney's birthday.

It unlocked instantly.

The lock screen lit up with a picture of William and Courtney, shoulder to shoulder, with her beaming like a flower in bloom. It looked more like a picture of real siblings than anything he ever took with me.

I tapped into the photo gallery.

There were thousands of images.

All of them were William, Courtney, and Michael.

Trips. Birthdays. Dinners.

Even casual selfies at home.

In one video, Michael stood in the kitchen with a pink Barbie cake he'd made himself. He smeared a bit of frosting on Courtney's nose, laughing softly.

In the background, William held a sparkly plastic crown and cooed, "My baby sister's going to be the happiest princess in the world."

Every picture from my childhood, from our vacations, our school days, the movies we watched huddled on the couch together, and everything he once promised to treasure forever was all in the trash folder.

Gone.

Tears blurred my vision. I thought I'd already cried myself dry.

How did we go from being inseparable siblings… to this?

Just then, I tapped a folder I hadn't noticed before.

Inside was a document.

It was a kidney transplant agreement.

My stomach twisted as I read the names:

[The recipient: William Lawson]

[The donor: Courtney Lawson]

My eyes widened in disbelief.