Chapter 1

Julian had two loyal dogs he just couldn't shake off.

One was his Alaskan Malamute. The other was me.

After years of bending over backward to please him, I thought I'd finally become someone he cared about.

Until the day before our wedding, when he crashed his car racing for Sabrina.

I rushed to the hospital, only to see his bare chest. There was no surgical scar.

The blood drained from my face. "Where is his heart transplant scar?"

Sabrina's expression darkened. "Julian's heart is perfectly fine. What surgery are you talking about?"

Suddenly, it hit me. For four whole years, I had the wrong man.

On the day he was discharged, Julian demanded to break off our engagement—again, for Sabrina.

Everyone waited to see me lose control.

Instead, I calmly replied, "Okay."

They didn't know I had never loved Julian.

The man I loved had died years ago.

Hearing my answer, Julian looked stunned. Then his expression darkened.

"I know how desperately you want to marry me," he sneered. "So I'll give you a choice. Withdraw your nomination for the executive seat on the Art Foundation's board and hand over the charity auction project. Do that, and I might consider keeping the engagement."

I just looked at him.

"Don't bother." I kept my voice even. "Just answer one question, and it's yours."

His face relaxed, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

"You want to ask if I ever loved you?" He stared at me. "Evelyn, don't you think you're a little too old for that?"

I couldn't care less who he loved or who he wanted to marry.

I had only ever loved one man.

He died in a car crash trying to protect me.

After his death, his heart was donated to someone else. That was the only reason I came to Julian.

I went from being the highly anticipated heiress of the Ashford family to Julian's most pathetic, obedient shadow.

But to me, as long as I could listen to my lover's heartbeat again, walking through hell with him would have been worth it.

"That's not it."

I steadied myself, needing this final confirmation. "Julian, did you ever have a heart transplant?"

Julian frowned. "What?"

His face went cold. "My heart is perfectly fine. Why the hell would you joke about something like that?"

Just as I thought. I had the wrong person.

Disappointment crushed my chest. I lowered my eyes.

"I agree to break the engagement. I'll withdraw my board nomination and drop the charity auction. Whatever Sabrina wants, the foundation will transfer it to her through standard procedures."

I looked back up, my voice dead flat. "And I wish you both the best."

As the words left my mouth, it wasn't just Julian who looked shocked. The Whitmore crowd surrounding him all wore expressions of disbelief.

Then, the sneers started echoing around the room.

"Seriously? I never thought Evelyn Ashford could stoop this low. She'll agree to anything just to win Julian back."

"She really is just his lapdog."

"Julian says jump, she asks how high. He wants her project, she just hands it over."

"Too bad. No matter how devoted she is, Julian's heart has always belonged to Sabrina."

"Enough."

For the first time, Julian interrupted their humiliation of me.

He stared at me, his face stormy. "Evelyn, do you have any self-respect left?"

"I tell you the engagement is off, and you just roll over and take it?"

I lowered my head slightly, a faint smile touching my lips.

I had the wrong man all along. What was the point of fighting for him?

"There's nothing left to fight for."

My indifference seemed to sting him. Julian's pupils trembled slightly. He suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Evelyn, you—"

"Julian."

Sabrina, who had been watching the drama unfold, finally spoke up. She looked at him with downcast eyes, her voice soft and vulnerable. "Should we give you two some privacy to talk?"

"She's not my fiancée!"

Julian instinctively shoved me away.

I stumbled, my lower back slamming hard against the table behind me. A glass tipped over, shattering across the floor.

A stray shard grazed Sabrina's slender ankle.

She drew a sharp, delicate breath. "Julian, it stings..."

Julian's face changed instantly. He dropped to a crouch to inspect her tiny scratch, then scooped her up into his arms.

"We're getting a doctor."

I clutched my lower back, the sharp pain leaving me temporarily frozen.

In the private lounge outside the ward, a few of his friends, eager to score points with him, deliberately grabbed a glass of dirty water and splashed it right into my face.

"Evelyn, don't think that just because you quit the project, you can act all high and mighty in front of Sabrina."

"In our eyes, and in Julian's heart, you're just a pathetic doormat he can summon and kick away whenever he pleases."

"Look at Sabrina. A tiny scratch and Julian loses his mind. You've trailed after him like a shadow for years—has he ever looked at you like that? Take a hint and get lost."

Laughter erupted around me.

I raised a hand and wiped the dirty water from my face, my voice devoid of emotion.

"I won't get in their way."

I looked at the group. "Because I never actually liked him."

The laughter stopped dead.

Just as they were gearing up to snap back, the lounge door was pushed open.

Julian had returned.

He took in the mess on the floor, then looked at me, completely drenched. His brows knitted together instantly.

"What are you doing?"

No one expected him to come back, let alone get angry on my behalf.

It took a few seconds before someone let out an awkward laugh. "Julian, we were just playing a joke on Evelyn..."

"Joke?" Julian's voice was ice. "Fiancée or not, she is not yours to humiliate."

He turned to the hospital security guards, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Save the security footage and make them formally apologize to Evelyn. Now, escort them out."

The guards immediately ushered the group out of the lounge.

Julian took off his jacket, draped it over my shoulders, and led me away.

I followed him, genuinely confused.

Since when did this man start treating me so well?

The moment we stepped out of the hospital, his phone rang again.

It was Sabrina.

"Julian, where are you? I'm scared being here all alone. Can you come back?"

Her voice through the speaker was sickeningly sweet, a manipulative whine.

Julian stopped in his tracks. He looked at me.

"Evelyn, can you get yourself checked out in the ER?"

I looked down at my soaked dress and bleeding palms. A laugh slipped out.

"Of course I can."

With those few words, Julian's shoulders slumped in relief, as if he had finally heard the answer he wanted.

"Then head back on your own."

I nodded. "Okay."

I didn't go to the ER. I went straight home.

Then, I contacted the licensed private investigator (PI) who had originally helped me track down the heart transplant recipient.

"Ms. Ashford, I am truly sorry," the PI said, his tone heavy. "The actual recipient is Elliot Hawthorne. The transplant center forwarded your request, and he agreed to share his address in Manhattan."

I stayed silent for a long time before speaking.

"I understand. Get me a car to Manhattan."

"I need to see him."