Chapter 1

Prologue

On my twenty-fourth birthday, my fiancé, Chase Miller, had a night of rough sex with Chloe Lynn that sent her to the ER with a ruptured ovarian cyst.

By morning, news of their affair had blown up all over social media.

He figured I’d do what I’d done for the past five years—beg him through tears to come back to me.

What he didn’t know was that just yesterday, I found out I wasn't the Mitchell family's biological daughter.

Now, the Mitchells wanted me to surrender my inheritance, along with my engagement to Chase, and hand it all over to their real daughter.

And finally, I was done with him.

Stella's POV

I was raised under strict rules from the day I could walk, molded into the perfect Mitchell heiress everyone expected me to be.

Chase Miller, on the other hand, was famous for his reckless streak—street racing, bar fights, extreme sports, you name it.

Two polar opposites, chained together by a family arrangement.

As his fiancée, I set three ground rules for him: no street racing, no getting into brawls, and, above all, no seeing his close "friend," Chloe Lynn .

Chase made it his mission to do the exact opposite.

If he wasn't street racing on dangerous mountain roads, he was beating someone bloody at a boxing gym.

And on my twenty-fourth birthday, news broke across entertainment blogs that he and Chloe had gone too far in bed, landing her in the hospital with a ruptured ovarian cyst. He dragged my dignity straight through the mud.

Everyone was waiting to watch the fallout.

They figured, knowing my temper, I’d drag the wild playboy home and make him pay for it.

Shortly after seeing the headlines, I walked into the VIP hospital room.

"Stella, don't be mad," one of Chase's buddies spoke up first, stepping forward with an appeasing grin. "Chase and Chloe really didn't do anything. The tabloids made it all up. Total fake news."

"Yeah!" the others chimed in. "A complete misunderstanding! Don't listen to those bloggers—they'll write anything for clicks..."

Before the sentence even landed, a sharp scoff came from the hospital bed.

Chloe leaned back against her pillows and sneered, "What's the point of lying to her?"

The guys shot her frantic glances, signaling her to shut up.

Chloe ignored them.

She turned her eyes to me, completely unfazed. "Here's what really happened: we were playing truth or dare. The loser had to share a secret nobody knew. I lost. I told them I was still a virgin, but they didn't believe me. They wanted proof."

She paused, as casual as if she were talking about the weather. "So I let Chase prove it for me."

The air in the room froze instantly.

A few of the guys sucked in a sharp breath, too terrified to speak.

Chloe smirked and tilted her chin up at me. "I know you're his fiancée, but Chase and I are best friends. Gender doesn't really exist between us. We've always messed around like this. I'm not taking it to heart, so you shouldn't mind either, right?"

Every eye snapped to me.

My gaze, however, fell on the chair in the center of the room.

Chase was slumped back, his long legs crossed, a lazy, mocking smirk playing on his lips.

He didn't bother offering an explanation, nor did he look the slightest bit guilty. He acted like none of this was a big deal.

His friends exchanged uneasy glances.

Who was I?

A high-society heiress born and bred in New York, with decorum carved into my bones and pride that mattered more than my life.

For me to hear with my own ears that my fiancé had slept with another woman? I was supposed to tear this room apart and burn the hospital down around them.

Yet, to everyone's shock, several long moments passed, and I didn't break a single thing. I didn't try to drag him home, either.

After a beat of heavy silence, I simply walked over to Chase and held out an open palm. "Chase. Five years ago, I gave you a silver cross. Can I have it back now?"

The guys looked at each other in total bewilderment, wondering if I had lost my mind.

Instead of screaming or making a scene, I was asking for a cross necklace?

Chase froze for a second, his hand unconsciously drifting to the cross resting against his chest.

Five years ago, Chase had crashed through a guardrail during a late-night street race. He lay in the ICU for three days and three nights. When he finally opened his eyes, the first person he saw was me.

My eyes had been swollen red, and I had lost so much weight. The moment he woke up, my tears spilled over.

Back then, with trembling hands, I awkwardly slipped the cross around his neck.

"I went to church specifically to get this cross for you. They say it protects you," my voice had been raw and fiercely demanding back then. "So wear it, Chase. From now on, you're not allowed to get hurt again!"

Chase had always despised having such a rigid, boring fiancée. He should have ripped it off and thrown it in my face right then and there.

Yet, for some reason, he hadn't moved.

He had merely chuckled with mock amusement. "You're so bossy. Am I supposed to wear this thing for the rest of my life?"

It took me a long time to answer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "You can take it off the day I stop having feelings for you."

Now, Chase sneered with his usual cold indifference. "Why do you want it back?"

"No reason," I said, my face completely blank. "I just don't want you to have it anymore."

Chase stared at me, unblinking.

Ever since we were kids, I had always carried myself with that polished, perfect posture.

Always reserved, always composed, always boring to him.

"Oh, I get it..." A sarcastic sneer tugged at the corner of Chase's mouth. "You spent all these years failing to make me fall for you, so you finally realized clinging to me doesn't work. Trying a new angle now?"

My lashes fluttered down. I didn't say a word.

Chase took my silence as confirmation.

"Fine. You want the cross back? Sure." Chase stood up, towering over me. He pointed to the fruit platter on the nightstand. "Eat that plate of mangoes, and it's yours."

A wave of sharp gasps rippled through the room.

Chloe couldn't help but frown. "Chase, isn't that crossing the line? Everyone knows Stella is deathly allergic to mangoes."

Chase didn't spare Chloe a glance. His eyes remained locked on mine. "If she thinks it's crossing the line, she doesn't have to eat it. I'm not forcing her."

The moment his words landed, I reached out and grabbed a slice of mango from the plate.

By the first bite, my lips began to swell and redden.

By the second bite, a fine, angry rash broke out across my cheeks.

By the third bite, my breath hitched in my throat, and dark red blotches spread down my neck.

The room fell dead silent.

Chase watched me as my fair skin flushed a violent crimson. Breathing became an agonizing struggle, but I didn't stop.

One piece. Two pieces. Three pieces...

I didn't look up until the platter was completely empty.

My eyes were swollen almost shut, my lips were turning a bruised purple, and my voice came out in ragged, broken gasps, draining every ounce of strength left in my body. "I... finished it. Can you... give it to me now?"

Chase slammed his fist violently onto the nightstand, letting out a deafening crash.

"Take it!" Chase ripped the cross off his neck and hurled it hard against my chest. "Take your damn pendant and get out!"

With that, Chase bent down and scooped Chloe into his arms. "I'm moving you to a better room so nobody ruins your mood."