CHAPTER 2

Mei’s POV

Marco stood at the door, his face was a complete picture of rage.

“You bitch!” The words tore right out his mouth.

“I’m sorry..I-I can explain. I swear..” my tone was shaky, as sorry excuses slipped out.

He crossed the room in three steps and grabbed my wrist so hard I felt the bones grind together.

"I knew it," he hissed. "I knew you were trash the day I hired you. Stealing from me? After everything I've done for you?"

Everything he did for me?! I should have been begging for my job, but I didn’t.

"You haven't done anything for me," I heard myself say. My voice was cold and sharp. "You pay me minimum wage and  steal my tips. You—"

"Get out!” The words landed in the room.

"Marco—"

"Get out!" He shoved me toward the door. "You're fired. And if I ever see your face again, I'll call the cops.

You hear me? I'll have you arrested."

“Please, I can’t—“

He grabbed me by the hair this time, with force, his hands rough as he guided me outside the shop and tossed me out…

I stumbled out into the cold night as the back door slammed behind me.

What did I do?

For a while, I just stood on the sidewalk, shivering in my uniform.

I looked at my hands..they were still shaking.

I almost did it..and I would have done it.

If Marco hadn't caught me, I would have emptied that safe and ran.

Gosh! What is wrong with me?!

I’m not a good person.

A good person wouldn't have tried to steal. A good person would have found another way.

But I wasn't good.

No, I was desperate and right now? I guess I don’t care about morality.

I started walking further without a real destination. I didn't know where I was going.

Home?…maybe. Or back to the hospital since I was going to get any sleep tonight anyway.

Then—

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I almost didn't answer. But I didn’t know exactly what—but something made me swipe the screen.

"Hello?"

Then, a cold woman's voice came. The kind of voice that belonged to someone who'd never worried about money in her life.

"Mei Forbes.”

I stopped walking at once. "Who is this?"

"Your grandmother is at St. Mary's Hospital. She needs surger and you have no money and no options, correct me if I’m wrong?”

My blood turned to ice. "How do you know—"

"If you want to save her, be at The Ivory Restaurant in twenty minutes. Come alone and tell no one."

"The Ivory? That's—that's across town. I don't have a car. I don't have—"

The line went dead at once.

I stared at my phone for nearly a minute aftee.

Who was she? How did she know everything? And how can she save grandma?!

There was only one way to get the answers to my questions…

The Ivory was the most exclusive restaurant in the city.

I’ve walked past it a hundred times and almost each time I did, I couldn’t help but glance and admire the interipr. Sometimes I caught myself staring.

It was twenty blocks away. I didn't have cab fare, so…

I started running.

When I reached, I was breathing so hard, it felt like my heart might bulge out.

The hostess there looked at me like I was something she could scrap off her shoe. "We're fully booked. You can't—"

"She's expected."

A man in a black suit appeared from nowhere. He was tall, broad-shouldered and with for shades

“Yes sir.” She nodded and stepped away.

He gestured for me to follow to him and I did…

He led me through the restaurant, past tables of rich and proud people dressed in cloths enough to probably pay my grandma’s surgery and have enough change.

They stared at me in disgust as I passed. But, I didn't care. I couldn't care. My grandmother was dying.

We stopped at a private booth in the back.

It was a section curtained off from the rest of the restaurant. The man pulled the curtain aside and gestured for me to enter.

I stepped inside and—froze.

Because siting at the table were the two most famous people in the city.

Vivienne and Charles Ashford.

I recognized them instantly. Everyone did.

Vivienne Ashford was an heiress, a philanthropist, a woman who graced the covers of magazines with her stunning looks and dresses….

Her husband, Charles, was a tech mogul, one of the richest men in the country. They were the kind of people who existed in a world I could only dream of.

And they were sitting across from me. Like actually!!!

They both looked at me with cold, sharp eyes, almost like they were accessing me…

Wait, did they make the call?! The voice was it Vivienne’s?!

"Sit down," Vivienne said and it eas exactly the voice was the one from the phone.

I didn't sit then. I asked instead,  "How do you know about my grandmother?"

"Sit. Down." She spoke again, her tone sharper.

Slowly…I sat.

Vivienne slid a folder across the table then. A thick brown folder.

I didn't open it just yet. "What is this?" I asked. "Why am I here?"

"Open it."

My hands were shaking again as I picked it up and opened the folder.

Inside were photographs, a birth certificate?! And some hospital records.

And then… a picture of two babies in a bassinet. They were identical in every single aspect and feature.

I stared at the picture for down seconds.

Then, the date on the birth certificate. March 15, 2002.

Wait. That’s—

"That's my birthday," I whispered.

Vivienne's expression didn't change. "Yes."

"I don't understand. What is this?"

Charles finally looked at me then. "You were born on March 15, 2002. You have a twin sister and her name is Emma. She grew up with us."

Twin sister?! Emma?

The words didn't make sense. They seemed to just bounce off me like rain on a glass window.

"What?"

"You're our daughter, Mei." He spoke again, his tone a little shaky. "We... we made a mistake a long time ago. We're here to fix it."

Daughter?! Did Charles Ashford just say I was his daughter?!

A cold and sharp tore out from my lips—

"You're my parents? No, no, no..” I shook my head. “That can’t be true—“

“It is.” Vivienne spoke then. She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture of a girl.

She looked exactly like me. To the bone. Expect she wasn’t because I never wore a cloth so expensive in my entire life.

“That’s Emma. You’re twin.”

I didn’t know what to say. Sceonds ticked by and I stared at them stunned.

“So you’re my parents?!”

“You're my parents and you left me? You left me with my grandmother and you never came back? And now you show up because—what? You need something?"

Vivienne's eyes went dark. "On the contrary, you need us as much as we need you. This is a transaction, not a reunion."

"A transaction." I repeated the word like it was poison. "What kind of transaction?"

She leaned forward. Her eyes were cold. "Your sister, Emma, was betrothed to the Sinclair family. The wedding is in two weeks but she has refused to go through with it."

"What does that have to do with me?"

“Simple..”

"You look exactly like her and—“

“And?!” I cut in sharply.

She held my gaze as a cold smirk came. “We need you to marry…in her place.”

The room went silent.