Chapter 1

Three years ago, for the sake of my fiancé Jason Grayson's bright future, I willingly took the blame for a hit-and-run and went to prison. On the day I was sentenced, he sobbed uncontrollably through the iron bars, swearing that when I got out, he would give me the most magnificent wedding and lay everything he had at my feet.

Three years later, I was released early for good behavior. I was overjoyed, wanting to surprise him—only to see on the city's largest LED screen that he was hosting a live stream with millions of viewers. In the stream, he was tenderly pushing a wheelchair carrying my "sickly" younger sister, Amy Lowe, announcing their engagement to the whole world.

I let out a cold laugh, hailed a taxi, and headed straight for that glittering live event.

0"Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Jason Grayson and Ms. Amy Lowe! Mr. Grayson's devotion to Ms. Lowe is truly a model of modern romance!"

The host's passionate voice traveled clearly through the heavy doors of the hotel ballroom. I stood outside, glancing down at my faded old clothes, then at the dazzling light spilling through the crack in the door. A bitter, ironic smile tugged at my lips.

I pushed open the heavy doors. Before me was a scene of suffocating luxury. Streaming equipment from top influencers was set up all over the venue, with countless cameras aimed at the center of the stage.

Jason Grayson stood there in a tailored suit, tall and handsome, wearing that gentle smile I once knew so well. He leaned slightly forward, his hands on the handles of a wheelchair. In it sat my sister Amy, dressed in a pure white gown, her delicate makeup designed to look fragile and ill.

"Jason, thank you for taking care of me all these years," Amy said, her eyes reddening, her voice so frail it seemed a gust of wind could knock her over. "If it weren't for you, I might not have made it. My sister… if she knew how happy we are now, I'm sure she'd be happy for us too."

"Don't mention her. Today is our day." A flicker of barely concealed disgust passed through Jason's eyes, then he gently slid a diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg onto Amy's finger. "Amy, I'll spend the rest of my life making up for all the suffering you've endured."

On the big screen, comments scrolled wildly. The whole internet was weeping over this perfect, fairy-tale romance.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, walking into that light that didn't belong to me.

The click of my heels echoed across the marble floor. At first, no one noticed this uninvited guest. Not until I reached the edge of the stage and, from a stunned crew member, took a spare microphone.

Screech—

A sharp feedback screech cut through the room, drowning out the soft background music.

Dead silence. Every camera, every pair of eyes, locked onto me at once.

Jason and Amy's smiles froze on their faces, as if struck by lightning. The color drained from them, leaving them pale as paper.

"Mr. Grayson, Ms. Lowe. Quite the performance." I gripped the microphone, stepped up onto the stage, and walked right up to them, my eyes cutting into Jason's hypocritical face like knives. "Anyone would think I'd died in there."

"Amanda?! How… how are you out?!" Jason was the first to react. He instinctively shielded Amy behind him, his handsome face twisting with fear and rage. "Security! Where the hell is security?! Get this crazy woman out of here! Cut the stream! Now!"

I watched the panic in his eyes, and it felt incredibly satisfying.

Crazy woman? Yeah, in their eyes, I went to prison for him, and seeing this, I was supposed to throw a tantrum like a hysterical mess.

But I wouldn't.

I turned to the camera, flashing a brilliant smile, my voice steady and clear: "Hello, everyone watching online, and all the media friends here. My name is Amanda Lowe. I'm the former girlfriend of this deeply devoted Mr. Jason Grayson. And I'm also the ex-convict who took the blame for his hit-and-run three years ago—and was just released from prison."

The ballroom erupted like a bomb had gone off.

"Oh my god! She took the blame?!"

"What did she just say? Jason Grayson was the one who did the hit-and-run?!"

"This is huge! Record it! Hurry!"

The security guards froze, unsure what to do.

"Sis…" Amy finally snapped out of it. She struggled to stand halfway from her wheelchair, then collapsed back into it weakly, tears streaming down her face like broken beads. "Sis, please don't say that! I know you hate me for taking Jason, but… but you were the one driving that night! Don't destroy everything Jason has built just because you're jealous!"

She looked so pitiful, sobbing like that, that it stirred a protective instinct in many of the onlookers.

My mother, Karen Shaw, rushed out from somewhere, grabbing my arm with nails digging into my flesh.

Through gritted teeth, she hissed at me: "You ungrateful child! You had to show up now of all times?! Your sister is sick—she can't handle this stress! Are you trying to kill her? Get out of here right now!"

I turned to look at my biological mother. Her eyes held only tenderness for her younger daughter—and disgust for her elder one.

I yanked my arm free, so hard she stumbled back several steps.

"Don't touch me. You make me sick." I looked at her coldly, then turned back to Jason, raising the mic to my lips, mimicking the tone he'd used with me three years ago in that visitation room: "Jason, what are you so nervous about? Three years ago, you said to me through that glass—'Amanda, trust me, wait for me.' So now I'm waiting. And what do I find? You using the money from selling my freedom to marry my sister?"

Jason's body went rigid. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Amanda, what the hell do you want?!" he hissed, voice low enough for only the three of us to hear. "Is it money? I'll give it to you! Ten million—is that enough? Take it and get out of the country. Forever."

"Ten million?" I laughed, the sound carrying through the microphone. "Grayson, do you think three years of my life—and an innocent person's life—is worth ten million?"

I stepped back, facing the flashing cameras, and dropped the biggest bomb of the night: "Since my sister says I'm jealous, as her older sister, I should give her an engagement gift. Here it is—the original footage from the dashcam from that accident three years ago, the one you two tried so hard to destroy. Jason, guess what's on it?"

Jason's pupils shrank. He looked like he'd been plunged into freezing water.

The bomb had detonated. I didn't give them a chance to respond. I tossed the microphone to the floor with a harsh thud.

And with everyone's shocked, curious, and frantic eyes on me, I straightened my back, walked out of the ballroom like a victorious queen, and never looked back.

Behind me was utter chaos—and Jason's furious roar.

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