She Rewrote the Script
The Garcia family's notorious illegitimate son — violent, obsessive, and dangerously unstable — had sent out a public marriage summons.
One of us, my sister or I, was to become his bride.
My father, with his career in ruins and his influence dwindling, had no choice but to agree.
In desperation, I begged my boyfriend Eric Jordan to return home and make our engagement official.
He did rush back, travel-worn and anxious — but only to ask for my sister's hand in marriage. Shattered, I demanded to know why.
Eric frowned, his voice icy. "You're just a foster daughter of the Lynch family. You've eaten their food, lived under their roof for years. And if it weren't for Willa, you would've frozen to death on the street. Now's your chance to repay her. Don't be ungrateful."
I refused to stay silent. He shoved me aside in frustration.
"I told you — Willa and I are only pretending. Once she's out of danger and that lunatic forgets about the proposal, we'll divorce. I'll come back for you. However, stop embarrassing yourself like this — it's pathetic."
What Eric did not know was… Willa Lynch escaped the marriage. However, I did not.
Later, on the day of the wedding, as the bridal car passed the Jordan family estate, I looked out the window — and locked eyes with Eric.
His face turned pale as a sheet.