Chapter 1 Shattered Reputation

In Duxta.

In the dimly lit hotel room, Lacey White found herself ensnared in a bewildering situation. With her heart pounding fiercely, she stared at the man beside her, her eyes wide with shock.

Brayden Edwards?

Why the hell would she end up tangled up in bed with her sister's fiancé?

The evening had started ordinarily enough, with Lacey waitressing alongside her best friend at a bustling local restaurant. Everything had been normal until a sudden wave of dizziness had overtaken her, plunging her into darkness. Awakening in this unfamiliar hotel room, with Brayden's unconscious form beside her, was like a scene straight out of a nightmare.

Her gaze dropped to the skimpy strap dress clinging to her frame, and a wave of dread washed over her. Her phone was nowhere to be seen, like it had vanished into thin air.

Determined not to let the situation spiral further out of control, Lacey scrambled to her feet, slipping into her shoes with trembling hands. She bolted for the door, her mind set on escape, but as soon as she flung it open, she was met by a sea of flashing cameras and clamoring reporters.

"Miss White, you summoned us here. Are you revealing an affair with your future brother-in-law to the world?"

"I didn't call anyone," Lacey responded, her voice firm despite the chaos, as she eyed the reporter brandishing his phone with his call log. The top number was indeed hers, but how could it be when her phone was missing?

Shaking her head vehemently, Lacey tried to gather her composure. "No, you're wrong. I didn't call you. Something's not right here."

In that instant, Brayden snapped upright, the bed beneath him creaking as he groaned, his voice tinged with confusion and irritation, "Why am I here?"

Seizing the moment, a reporter leaned in, curiosity lacing his tone. "Mr. Edwards, you're currently in a hotel. What exactly are you and Miss White doing here?"

Brayden sat up sharply, his eyes flashing with disdain. "How could I possibly have anything to do with that disgraceful woman?" he spat out contemptuously.

The word "disgraceful" pierced Lacey's heart like a dagger. Memories flooded back-times when Brayden had called her name with such warmth and tenderness during their childhood, the softness in his voice. Now, stripped of her inheritance and the White family's protection, she was reduced to nothing more than disgraceful in his eyes.

As he caught a glimpse of his exposed torso under the quilt, Brayden's memory jolted him into action. He pointed an accusing finger at Lacey, his anger palpable. "You texted me, claiming Janessa was drunk here at the hotel, urging me to come and fetch her. But the moment I arrived, I was out cold. What in the world did you do to me?"

As the unfair accusations flew, Lacey, propelled by a mix of shock and defense, snapped back, "I never sent you any text."

In a fit of fury, Brayden snatched his phone, scrolled to the incriminating message, and with a forceful gesture, thrust the phone towards Lacey's forehead.

"Take a good look," he commanded, his voice cold and unforgiving.

"Ah!"

The pain came suddenly and sharply, an agonizing lance through Lacey's forehead that sent a thin stream of blood trickling down her face, blurring her vision with its stark red hue.

Through the haze, her eyes found Brayden, his expression disturbingly detached, making the ache in her heart eclipse the physical torment.

She realized the bitter truth-the moment her true identity was revealed, the Brayden she cherished had vanished forever.

A reporter stooped to pick up Brayden's phone from the cold floor, his eyes alight with a gleam of triumph as he confirmed both the message and call had originated from Lacey. Turning to her with a sneer, he threw his accusations into the charged air.

"Miss White, what exactly are you scheming?"

"Was it jealousy over your younger sister reclaiming her place in your family that drove you to this desperate act, to steal her lover as petty revenge?"

"I never imagined you'd be this ungrateful."

"It reminds me of a story from four years ago-about a girl who, once her deception was uncovered, cast out her own blood to cling to the riches of the White family. Could that be true?"

Lacey's response was firm, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside her. "No."

"And if that's a lie, why didn't you go back to your own family?"

There was indeed more to that story, a painful chapter from four years ago that Lacey had sealed away under a promise to Janessa White never to reveal the truth to anyone.

Out of nowhere, Janessa swept into the room with a stormy expression.

Lacey's face brightened for a fleeting second, a hopeful spark lighting her eyes. "Janessa, you-"

With a sharp crack that echoed through the air, Janessa's hand connected briskly with Lacey's cheek. The force sent Lacey sprawling backward, her slender frame crashing onto the bed. Her cheek ballooned into a painful red, a thin trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her lips.

Lacey stared up in shock, her eyes searching Janessa's face, her voice trembling. "Janessa, you don't believe me either?"

Janessa's voice cracked with sorrow, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Lacey, I want to believe you, I truly do. But with all the evidence stacked against you, what can I possibly think?"

Lacey's voice was soft but firm. "I've been framed, Janessa. Someone set me up."

As she spoke, a deep sense of betrayal gnawed at her from within, as if invisible puppet strings were being pulled to dance her towards doom.

The trap was set with chilling precision, rendering her explanations as nothing more than feeble excuses in the eyes of others.

Janessa paused, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. "You've been framed? Fine, let's set that aside for a moment. Answer me this, Lacey-do you really not have any feelings for Brayden?"

Lacey's words faltered on her lips. "Well, I..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, as confusion and hurt tangled in her gaze.

She had once seen Brayden as her inevitable future, her promised partner since childhood. How could her heart not yearn for him?

Yet, four years prior, a revelation had shattered that future: the White family had declared she was not their biological daughter. A hospital mix-up had switched her with someone else, placing Janessa-the rightful daughter of the Whites-into the life that was meant for Lacey.

Without protest, Lacey had stepped aside, letting go of the engagement with a grace born from resignation.

She could relinquish Brayden, but suppressing her feelings was another matter entirely.

Janessa saw Lacey's silence as a confession, her lips curling into a smile tinged with melancholy. "Lacey, more than twenty years ago, a twist of fate mistakenly swapped our lives. I've always stepped back, letting you shine, scared that you'd feel robbed of a life you thought was yours."

Her voice was laced with hurt as she continued, "If you had feelings for Brayden, I would have stepped aside. Why did you deny those feelings, only to now stand here, making us both miserable as we're on the edge of our engagement?"

Caught off-guard, Lacey met Janessa's earnest look, the accusation stinging her deeply. She had always been the one to back down, to avoid confrontation. Why then, was Janessa portraying her as the villain?

Beside them, Brayden's sympathy for Janessa deepened. He wrapped his arms around her, his embrace a fortress of reassurance. "Janessa, it's always been you," he declared, his voice firm with conviction. "I am yours, today and forever. Why would I ever consider being with that bitch?"

His gaze hardened as he glanced at Lacey dismissively. "Let's not waste another moment. Let's make it official and register our marriage."

Brayden strode decisively toward the door, his voice firm as he addressed the cluster of reporters gathered around him. "I implore each of you to report today's events with absolute integrity," he commanded firmly.

He then turned sharply, his eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze as he fixed them on Lacey. "I want Lacey's reputation shattered," he hissed, each word dripping with malice.

A cold shiver coursed through Lacey's spine, her heart sinking with dread.

As night enveloped the city, Lacey found herself wandering the empty, shadow-laden streets, her mind clouded with confusion and sorrow.

Dirt stained her clothes, and a pungent stench clung to her, a sharp reminder of her fall from grace.

Earlier that day, the White family had cut her off, calling her a disgrace while the media feasted on every accusation against her. Now, wherever she went, she was met with scorn and disgust, as passersby hurled rotten eggs and spoiled vegetables at her. Only the anonymity afforded by darkness provided her any respite.

The harsh glow of a large digital billboard illuminated the street, capturing Lacey's attention. On it, the image of her foster mother, Ivy White, flickered to life. The usual warmth in Ivy's expression had vanished, replaced by a cold, contemptuous sneer.

Ivy declared with a heavy sigh, "The greatest regret of my life is not sending Lacey back to her biological parents when we first learned the truth four years ago. Lacey was once a gentle, compliant child, and I truly believed she could coexist peacefully with Janessa. But everything changed when Janessa joined our family.

She lowered her eyes sadly. "Lacey became a stranger-jealous and conniving. She not only tormented Janessa at home but also stole her sister's accomplishments, fame, and even her future opportunities. She schemed relentlessly to send her biological parents away, desperate to remain a part of our family."

She adopted a firm tone. "And now, she's attempting to destroy Janessa's chance at happiness. She's pushed me past the edge-I can't stomach her anymore."