Chapter 1

The call came on a Tuesday afternoon, the kind of gray, listless day that mirrored the inside of my chest. I was in my mother' s old art gallery, a place that smelled of turpentine and dust and broken dreams. The light struggled through the grimy front windows, illuminating the canvases I' d been meaning to sell but couldn't bring myself to part with. They were my mother's last pieces, vibrant and full of a life she no longer had.

I was staring at a half-finished portrait on my easel, the face of a man I' d known my whole life, Dr. Liam Miller. My childhood friend. The man I loved. The man who was hopelessly, blindly in love with my stepsister, Chloe Hayes.

My phone rang, shattering the quiet. It was my father, Richard Reed. His voice was unusually tight.

"Ava, you need to come home. Now. It' s important."

I didn't argue. I cleaned my brushes, covered the canvas, and locked the heavy gallery door behind me. The Reed mansion felt cold the moment I stepped inside, colder than the autumn air. Richard was pacing in the living room, his face pale. Chloe was perched on the edge of an antique armchair, looking like a flawless, predatory cat.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my eyes searching for my younger brother, Ethan.

"Ethan is fine," Richard said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "He's upstairs with his nurse."

Chloe smiled, a slow, deliberate movement of her perfectly painted lips. "It's about my future, Ava. And yours, as it turns out."

I waited. With Chloe, there was always a trap hidden beneath the sugar.

She explained that her latest prospect, a wealthy heir she'd been pursuing for months, had backed out. It was a disaster for her. But then, another opportunity had presented itself. A man even wealthier, a true titan of industry, but with a catch. He was rumored to be horribly disfigured from an accident and, worse, unable to have children. This suitor had been rejected by Chloe' s prospect, and in a fit of pique, the original family demanded a replacement bride for him from the Reeds to settle the broken engagement.

"They want a Reed daughter," Chloe said, her voice smooth. "And since I am obviously not going to marry some monster, that leaves you."

The air left my lungs. My father wouldn't look at me. He just stared at a point on the far wall, his jaw tight.

"You want me to marry a stranger? A man you call a monster?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Don't be dramatic, Ava," Richard snapped. "It's a good match. The man is Noah Blackwood. He' s a recluse, but he' s incredibly powerful. This alliance would solve all our financial problems."

Our problems. He meant his and Chloe's problems. The ones they created with their lavish spending while I struggled to keep the gallery afloat and pay for Ethan's mounting medical bills.

I felt a surge of cold fury. They had used me my whole life, as a maid, a scapegoat, a shadow to make Chloe shine brighter. Now they wanted to sell me.

"No," I said, the word feeling solid and powerful in my mouth.

Chloe' s smile vanished. "Don't be a fool. You have no choice."

"I always have a choice," I shot back, my gaze locking with hers. Then I thought of Ethan. His weak heart, his pale face, the constant fear that hung over us. His condition was rare and the treatments were expensive. Richard had been threatening to cut off the funding, using it as a leash to keep me in line.

This was their checkmate.

An idea, sharp and desperate, formed in my mind. If I was going to be a sacrifice, I would set the terms.

"Fine," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "I'll do it. But I have conditions."

Richard looked relieved. "Anything, dear."

"First, you will sign over my mother's art gallery to me, free and clear. The deed, the business, everything. It's mine, legally and completely."

His face tightened. "Ava, the gallery is prime real estate..."

"It was my mother's," I cut him off. "It's non-negotiable. Second, Ethan comes with me. I will have full custody and he will live with me wherever I go. His medical trust will be transferred to my control."

Chloe laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. "You can't be serious. You, taking care of Ethan? You can barely take care of yourself."

"He is my brother," I said through gritted teeth. "He is the only reason I am even considering this. Take it or leave it."

A tense silence filled the room. Richard looked at Chloe, his expression pleading. He was so weak, so utterly enthralled by this woman who was my age, his own stepdaughter. His infatuation was pathetic and disgusting. He would do anything she wanted.

"Fine," Chloe said finally, her eyes glinting with malice. "Have the sick brat. And the failing gallery. It' s a small price to pay to be rid of you both."

Richard nodded, eager to agree. "We have a deal. I'll have the papers drawn up."

As he scurried off to his study, probably to call his lawyer, Chloe sauntered over to me.

"You think you've won something, don't you?" she whispered, her voice laced with venom. "You haven't. You're just a pawn, Ava. You always will be."

She turned to leave, then paused, pulling out her phone. "Oh, and I have to call Liam. He'll need to adjust Ethan's medication schedule for the move. We wouldn't want any... complications."

She walked into the hallway, her voice floating back to me. I stood frozen, my blood running cold. I heard her speaking to Liam, her tone sweet and concerned.

"Liam, darling... yes, it's me. Listen, we have a bit of a situation with Ethan... Ava is being difficult again, throwing a tantrum... She wants to take him with her when she leaves... I'm just so worried about his stability. I was thinking, maybe we should slightly increase the dosage of his beta-blockers for a while? Just to keep his heart rate steady through all this stress. You know how fragile he is."

I heard a pause. I couldn't hear Liam's side of the conversation, but I could imagine it. His concern, his trust in Chloe's "worries."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver, Liam," Chloe cooed. "I knew I could count on you. You're the only one who truly cares about this family."

The lie was so blatant, so poisonous, it choked the air. She wasn't trying to stabilize Ethan. A higher dose would make him weaker, more lethargic, more dependent. It was a way to control him, to control me. And Liam, the brilliant Dr. Miller, was her willing tool. The man whose face I had just been painting, the man I thought had a core of goodness, was just another one of Chloe' s puppets. The realization was a physical blow.

Just then, the front door opened and Liam himself walked in. He was holding a small bouquet of roses, Chloe's favorite. He saw me standing there, then his eyes went past me, searching for her.

"Ava," he said, his tone polite but distant.

Chloe emerged from the hallway, a triumphant smirk on her face. She took the flowers from him, brushing a kiss against his cheek.

"Liam, you're just in time," she said, her arm looping through his. "Ava was just telling us her wonderful news. She's getting married."

Liam looked at me, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't read. Disapproval?

"Congratulations," he said, the word sounding hollow.

"To Noah Blackwood," Chloe added, watching my face for a reaction.

Liam's eyebrows shot up. "The Noah Blackwood? I thought..."

"Yes, that one," Chloe purred. "Ava has found herself a very powerful man. Of course, she had to make some demands. She's taking Ethan." She looked at Liam, her eyes wide and innocent. "I'm so worried about him, Liam. That's why I called you. I think we need to be extra careful with his health."

Liam nodded gravely, his professional concern overriding everything else. He looked at me, his gaze now cold and judgmental.

"Chloe is right to be concerned, Ava," he said, his voice taking on the authoritative tone of a doctor. "Uprooting Ethan could be very dangerous for him. Are you sure you're thinking about his best interests, or just your own?"

The accusation hung in the air, thick and suffocating. He stood there, holding hands with my tormentor, publicly siding with her, publicly shaming me. The man I had loved for a decade thought I would harm my own brother.

In that moment, the half-finished portrait in my studio felt like a mockery, a tribute to a man who never existed.

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