My Sister Sent Me to Die, but My Fiancé Saved Me

Bang, bang, bang!

A heavy baseball bat slammed into the car window. Cracks spread across the glass like a spiderweb.

The impact had killed the engine. I was trapped between the seat and the airbag, blood trickling down my temple.

Shaking, I fumbled for my phone and called home.

Someone picked up right away.

"I'm at the abandoned rest stop. Someone's attacking me. Help!"

I was sobbing, begging for help.

Instead, Ethan snapped at me, "Nina, stop acting like a spoiled brat! You're a Mercer. Start acting like one! Quit lying and finish your task!"

The line went dead. For a moment, I just froze.

In a panic, I called 911.

"Help—"

I didn't even get to finish.

Bang!

The rear side window exploded.

Cold wind whipped across my face, carrying bits of broken glass with it.

I screamed in terror.

Several burly men reached into the car, grabbed me, and tried to drag me out.

Just as I was losing all hope, a pair of headlights cut through the darkness.

A tall figure stepped out of the car.

It was too dark to make out his face.

All I saw was him raising a hand.

Bodyguards dressed in black emerged from the shadows and subdued the attackers within seconds.

The man leaned into the car and spoke in a deep, reassuring voice. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

His face hardened with fury when he saw the blood on mine.

"Teach them a lesson. Keep them alive. I want answers."

But with me, he was incredibly gentle.

He carefully lifted me out of the car, took off his coat, and wrapped it around my shivering body.

Terror and sudden relief hit me all at once, making my head spin.

Everything went black.

...

In a haze, my mind drifted back to three years earlier.

My family, the Mercers, was one of the most prominent families in the city.

They brought me home after I'd spent 18 years in an orphanage.

Back then, I thought I finally had a family.

But the night before my homecoming party, Wendy and I chose the same couture gown.

My fingertips had barely touched the skirt, and I hadn't said a word yet.

My mother had already snatched it away and handed it to Wendy.

"If Wendy likes it, she should have it."

I looked at her and said softly, "Mom, I saw it first."

My mother's expression hardened. "It's just a dress. Why make such a big deal out of it? You're the older sister. Can't you just let Wendy have it?"

Ethan sided with her. "Nina, stop being so selfish."

I just stood there, embarrassed and hurt.

After the party, my parents said they'd give me a gift to make up for it.

I was excited to see what it was.

Instead, they gave me one of Wendy's old handbags.

I held up the worn-out bag.

"Was this Wendy's?"

My mother didn't even blink.

"None of the new ones at home suit you. Just use the old one."

Wendy stood off to the side, unable to hide how smug she was.

"Don't be so picky, Nina. I used to love this bag. I thought it'd be perfect for you."

From that day on, almost everything they gave me was a hand-me-down from Wendy.

Old dresses, accessories, even everyday items. They were expensive and still looked as good as new, but just like them, my heart was worn in ways no one could see.

Then, late one night, I happened to overhear my parents talking inside the study.

"If it weren't for that will and the company shares, we never would have brought her home."

"Exactly. A daughter who was gone for 18 years is no different from a stranger."

"When it comes down to it, Wendy's the only daughter we really think of as ours."

I froze. Their words sent a chill straight through me.

So that was all I was to them—an outsider they could use.