Chapter 3

Since the premiere, I’d been playing the part of the perfect, "docile" fiancée. I played along when William sent me to a shrink. I played along when Vivian posted updates on social media about my "brave recovery."

They let their guard down. Exactly as I planned.

This afternoon, William was off at some exclusive golf club, and Vivian was stuck in the editing room. Using a key I’d secretly copied days ago, I unlocked the drawer in William's study that he always kept shut.

For weeks, I’d been quietly digging into the missing ten-million-pound charity fund. I discovered that aside from a fraction used for surface-level PR stunts, the bulk of the money had been funneled into a Swiss offshore account. The beneficiary’s name? Lily.

At the very bottom of the drawer, I found a thick manila envelope. What spilled out wasn't corporate secrets, but a stack of photos and a birth certificate.

In the photos, William and Vivian were in casual clothes, running along a sun-drenched beach in the South of France. Between them, holding their hands, was a beautiful little girl, maybe five or six, with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were beaming. They looked exactly like... a picture-perfect family.

My hands shook as I picked up the birth certificate. 

Mother: Vivian Parker. 

Father: William Winston. 

Date of Birth: Six years ago.

Six years ago. William and I hadn’t even met yet.

My breathing grew heavy, and a wave of nausea twisted my stomach. I thought the conspiracy I’d overheard up in the Highlands was the ultimate betrayal. I was wrong. It was just the tip of the iceberg.

They had been together this whole time. They even had a six-year-old secret love child!

Then why the hell did William come after me? Why propose to me?

I dug deeper into the envelope and pulled out photocopies of Vivian’s old diary. In her messy handwriting, it read: 

"My documentary career is just taking off; I can't afford a scandal about a love child right now. William’s philanthropic image also needs a clean, harmless, easily manipulated fiancée for optics. Chloe is the perfect candidate. She’s an orphan, desperate for a family. Give her a little bit of love, and she’ll be as loyal as a dog. We’ll have to keep Lily in France for now. Once we have enough money and status, I’m taking everything back."

I gripped the paper so hard my nails dug into my palms. A drop of blood fell right onto the little girl’s smiling face in the photo.

I was nothing but a front. A shield. A pawn they could throw under the bus the second it served their interests! What I thought was my salvation, what I believed was true family and love—it was all a meticulously calculated scam from day one.

Just then, the electronic lock on the front door beeped open. 

"William, Lily is coming to London next week. When are you finally going to drop this act?" Vivian’s voice echoed from the living room.

I shoved everything back into the drawer, locked it, took a deep breath, and pushed the study door open.

In the living room, William had his arms wrapped around Vivian’s waist. They were making out. 

At the sound of my footsteps, they jerked apart. Panic flashed across William’s face, but he quickly composed himself. "Chloe? I thought you were asleep."

"Who is Lily?" I ignored his pathetic cover-up, glaring daggers at them.

Vivian went completely pale. William stepped forward, reaching for my hand. "Chloe, you misheard..."

"I said, who is Lily?!" I violently slapped his hand away. My voice was so shrill and broken I barely recognized it myself. "The girl born in France six years ago—who is she?!"

The air in the room froze. 

The gentle, loving mask finally slipped off William’s face. He let out a sigh and, with the most absurd, self-righteous tone, said, "Since you already know, there's no point in hiding it. Lily is my daughter. But it was an accident. I was drunk..."

"You've neen lying to me for six years!" I snapped, tears of pure rage spilling down my face.

"So what?!" Vivian suddenly shrieked, finally dropping her own hypocritical act. Her face twisted with spite. "She's William's flesh and blood! You’re just some orphan trash your own parents didn't even want! William gave you six years of luxury—what more do you want? Did you honestly think he loved you? You’re just a convenient little tool!"

Looking at their twisted, ugly faces, a profound wave of sorrow washed over me. 

These were the people I considered my family.

"I'm exposing everything to the press," I said, staring at them with ice in my veins. "The charity fraud. Your secret kid. That whole staged stunt in the Highlands. I’m going to make sure you lose everything."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked toward the door.