Chapter 1

After her mother's funeral, Mia Larson received a call from her aunt, Zoe Larson.

“Mia, your mom is gone now. I can’t stop worrying about you staying alone in the country. Why don’t you come abroad and live with me?”

Mia remained silent for a long time, as though she was making a monumental decision. Finally, she solemnly answered, “Alright.”

“Really? You’re willing to come? That’s wonderful!” Zoe’s voice on the other end was filled with joy. “But I heard you got married. Will your husband agree to move abroad with you?”

Mia chuckled at the question. “Don’t worry. We’re about to get divorced.”

Before the call ended, a commotion sounded from outside the door.

Nick Ford was back.

Mia glanced toward the door but didn’t get up to greet him like she usually did.

Just then, Nick’s younger sister, Jenna Ford, strutted in, her face full of smugness. “Nick brought Xena back. You, the imposter, will be kicked out soon!”

Mia frowned slightly. “Imposter?”

Jenna looked even more pleased with herself. “You’ll understand once you meet Xena.”

As her words trailed off, Nick entered, accompanied by Xena Quinn.

The driver followed behind them, lugging bags upon bags of luggage.

In Xena’s hands was a massive bouquet of roses—vivid red and strikingly beautiful. Mia held back her tears with difficulty.

He actually had time to buy Xena roses.

In five years of marriage, he had never given Mia so much as a single flower.

“Xena just returned from abroad and hasn’t found a place to stay yet. She’ll be staying with us for the time being,” Nick announced without sparing Mia a glance. His gaze remained fixed on Xena the entire time. “Clean up the guest room next to mine. Xena will be staying there.”

His tone wasn’t a request but an order, as though they weren’t a married couple—as though she was merely a housekeeper. Someone staying over didn’t require her consent, yet she was expected to clean the room for them.

“Nicky, I can clean it myself. No need to trouble Mia,” Xena interjected, lifting her head.

It was then that Mia finally saw her face.

She froze on the spot, as if struck by a spell, her body rigid and unable to move.

At that moment, Mia finally understood what Jenna meant by “imposter.”

Xena had a face that looked strikingly similar to hers.

The difference was that Xena’s features were softer, her demeanor more elegant, and her gaze carried the effortless confidence of someone born into privilege.

“So that’s how it is…” Mia muttered under her breath.

She let out a soft, hollow laugh, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye as if brushing off something insignificant. Now it all made sense.

Her life had always been marked by misfortune. Luck had never been on her side. Even her mother, the only person she had to lean on, had passed away on her birthday.

She should have known better. Someone like her, cursed with bad luck, was never going to stumble into a fairytale ending. A chance meeting wouldn’t lead a wealthy heir to fall for her, let alone marry her.

It all made sense now.

She was nothing more than a stand-in.

“Why are you crying? Seriously, is this worth crying about?” Jenna scoffed, a mocking tone in her voice. “Xena is only staying for a couple of days, and here you are acting all pitiful. Mia, you’re so petty!”

Mia quickly shook her head. “No, this has nothing to do with Miss Quinn…”

But before she could finish, Xena’s eyes reddened, and she interjected softly, “Forget it. I’ll leave. I don’t want to cause any strain on your marriage because of me.”

A dark cloud immediately settled over Nick’s face.

“You’re not leaving,” he said, stepping in front of Xena. His tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument. “I make the decisions in this house! Uncle Jacob, take her luggage upstairs!”

The driver hesitated, glancing uneasily at Mia. He didn’t move.

Nick noticed and turned his sharp gaze toward Mia.

“Do you have a problem with this?” he asked, his voice low and tinged with warning, like a predator cornering its prey.

Mia shook her head again, her eyes reddening as she forced a smile. “No, I don’t have a problem. Miss Quinn is more than welcome to stay here.”

No problem at all.

Why would she have a problem?

Someone who was about to leave for good had no right to care.

She would step down gracefully, give up her place, and disappear forever—never to return.