Chapter 1

“Sophia?!”

The exclamation wasn’t loud, but it snapped every head in the room toward me.

“Sofia, you made it.” Lucas smiled at me like nothing had happened.

Ashley blinked in theatrical confusion. “Lucas, who is she?”

I used to be Stella Harlow, heiress to the Harlow family. Ashley is my cousin.

The night of the fire, I’d escaped with my life.

To protect me, Grandpa had arranged plastic surgery and a completely new identity. Ashley didn’t recognize me.

Lucas patted her head. “Practice material.” He said it like it was nothing.

“Ohhh.” Ashley drew out the syllable and looked me over head to toe. “She doesn’t know?”

Lucas walked straight up to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to the center of the room. He looked at me the same way he always had.

“You look great today, Sofia.” He paused, then let mock-surprise creep into his voice. “You didn’t actually think I was going to propose to you, did you?”

He strolled back to Ashley’s side. “These five years, you were the one who helped me get good at this. Because of you, I know exactly how to treat Ashley right. As you can see, she said yes.”

“So tonight, you need to move out.” His voice stayed soft.

The office went dead quiet.

I met his eyes. “Lucas, you’re the one who should leave.”

He tilted his head, almost like he felt sorry for me. “Not quite. I bought that apartment. You didn’t put in a single cent. You’ve just been borrowing the space.”

Looking at him, so completely sure of himself, I was shaking with rage.

Five years. I’d shared a studio with him eating cereal for dinner, run myself ragged chasing clients, and ended up in the ER with a stomach bleed from too many late nights entertaining.

I’d quietly funneled the Harlow family’s legal team and financial contacts into his company. Two months ago, it went public.

Yes, he bought the apartment. But without me, he couldn’t have afforded a parking space.

I tightened my fist and forced down the burn in my throat. “Lucas, don’t forget I own fifty percent of the company. I could have you thrown off the board by tomorrow morning.”

“Sofia, that’s adorable.” He laughed, looser now. “That was a fake agreement I drew up to make you feel good. It was never notarized.”

A chill ran down my spine. I turned and looked at Ashley. The satisfaction on her face was identical to the look she’d worn the night she set the fire.

I pointed at the two of them, my voice flat. “You’ll pay for this.”

The second I turned, something slammed into my back.

A stack of hundred-dollar bills scattered at my feet.

“Thanks for all your help, practice girl.”

“Consider that a thousand bucks for your time.”

Ashley tilted her head and smiled. “And don’t ever let me see you near Lucas again.”

I stepped over the pile of cash. My voice came out cold. “I don’t have a habit of picking up trash.”

Her smile went rigid.

Lucas’s face hardened. “Sofia Harlow, Ashley’s being generous giving you anything at all. You don’t feel grateful, and now you’re being rude on top of it?”

“Your parents are dead. Guess they never had the chance to raise you right.”

He bit down on every word. Something in my chest twisted.

He was the only person I’d ever told about what Ashley did to my parents. That night, he’d held me in his arms and promised that once his company was big enough, he’d hire a criminal defense attorney and help me find the truth.

Looking back now, everything I thought was real, every moment of tenderness, everything I called love, had been a performance from start to finish. He’d carefully memorized every scar I had and every source of pain, just so he could aim at exactly the right spot.

When I didn’t answer, he pushed harder. “You were only ever practice material because you came in clean. Something like this isn’t for everyone.” He coaxed in a gentle, patient voice: “Come on. Pick up the money and thank Ashley.”

I stared at the hollow shell he’d become and felt my stomach turn. “Lucas, you’re disgusting.” I stopped looking at them and walked.

“Lucas, you think she’s going to hurt herself to mess with us?” Ashley’s shrill voice followed me out.

"Nope," Lucas said, unbothered. "She won’t do anything stupid. I’ve got Buddy."

I stopped.

Buddy was my Golden Retriever. We’d been together five years, and he looked just like the one I’d lost when I was ten.

I’d asked Lucas to look after him for two days while I dealt with family business. I thought he was the safest choice. I was wrong.

I took a few slow breaths, steadied myself, and kept moving. I burst through the front door calling Buddy’s name and went room by room. Nothing.

My heart was racing. Then I remembered the pet boarding place, grabbed my phone, and dialed. It rang for what felt like forever before someone finally picked up.

“Hi, is Buddy there?” I could barely slow down enough to get the words out.