Chapter 1

Years ago, a nurse swapped the name tags on incubators at the hospital.

So several babies were switched at birth.

And it turned out my fiancé's sister was my biological sister.

I thought it was fate bringing us closer, but Sterling had other plans.

The night before our wedding, he said, "She's been pampered her whole life. Going back to your family has been hell for her."

"I need to marry her first. Give her the title of wife to protect her. That way, the real Astor daughter we just brought home won't make a fuss."

I stood frozen as he continued.

"You're different. You've been through worse. You're strong and you can handle anything."

"Give me two years. Once she's settled, we'll have our wedding ceremony."

He expected me to scream and cry. To cave like I always did.

Instead, I cut him off. "Got it. I'll be sure to congratulate you and my sister tomorrow."

Those words made him freeze.

All his rehearsed speeches, all his moral blackmail stuck in his throat.

"You're serious? If you're not okay with this, just say so. Don't be passive-aggressive. That makes me more worried."

I didn't understand what he had to worry about.

Hadn't I always given in before?

Every time, he'd push forward one step, I'd step back one step.

Until I had nowhere left to go, and I'd nod and say "fine."

I lowered my hand from my stomach where it had unconsciously drifted.

"Yes. I'm serious."

"Tomorrow's ceremony goes ahead as planned. Just swap out the bride. No need to change the program."

He was suspicious, but he didn't want to dig deeper now.

Because he was afraid I'd change my mind.

He reached out and patted my head. "I knew you'd understand."

"Blair was my sister before. Now she's yours. We're all family."

"It's just that wild girl we brought back from your family who doesn't know her place. Always crying that Blair stole twenty years of her life. Demanding we throw her out."

"We'll still go to City Hall as planned, okay?"

"As for the wedding ceremony..."

"Once Blair's settled, we'll throw you a proper celebration."

"Got it," I interrupted. "Go home. You're the groom tomorrow. Get some rest."

I turned and tossed the crumpled invitation mockup into the trash beside me.

He stared at me for two seconds.

Satisfied I showed no anger or hurt, he finally left.

The moment the door closed, I opened my phone.

[Your marriage registration appointment has been successfully canceled.]

Then I pulled up an email from across the Atlantic. Read it eight more times.

And I typed back: [I accept.]