Chapter 1
The day my bank balance dropped from 600 thousand dollars to thirty, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer that had spread to my lungs.
The one who took all that money was Emily Frost, the sister I'd raised for twenty-five years.
Emily: [Jessica, Lucas is taking me to Coral Bay to go diving. The flights and the hotel are booked, so I went ahead and moved the money over. You're loaded anyway, so what's 300 thousand dollars to you?]
On my phone screen, Emily's message from a week ago was still there.
And right after that, another message came through.
Emily: [Oh, Jessica, your bank password was way too easy to guess. It was my birthday.]
I stared at my phone, the pain in my stomach twisting with the cold emptiness in my heart.
The hospital hallway lights were blinding, and the diagnosis slip in my hand.
[Late-stage stomach cancer with lung metastases] was already damp with sweat at the edges.
Six hundred thousand dollars was every cent I'd worked myself into the ground for over all those years.
Our parents died early, and I was sixteen, and Emily was only thirteen. The relatives passed us around like we were carrying something catching, and nobody wanted to take us in.
I dropped out of school, worked in a factory screwing bolts, washed dishes in restaurants, and woke up at 3 AM to help unload trucks at the market.
Later, I learned how to do nails and set up a little street stall. Day after day in the wind and sun, my hands were always cracked and bleeding.
At my lowest, I worked three jobs a day, so exhausted I'd fall asleep standing up on the subway and miss my stop.
But every time I came home and saw Emily's sweet smile, and heard her say, "Jessica, you're the best," it made everything worth it.
I made sure she always looked her best, sent her to the top private schools, bought her designer clothes, and the newest phones. Whatever she wanted, I gave it to her; I never once said no.
The day Emily got into college, I was so thrilled I couldn't sleep all night. The next morning, I sent her every dollar I'd managed to save over the past six months so she could pay her college fees.
But where had Emily gone?
I dialed her number, hoping she'd pick up.
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
Disconnected. Just like us.
I'd pinned every hope I had on Lucas Sterling, the only man I ever truly loved.
I first met Lucas three years ago, on a stormy night.
That night, after closing up my stall, I spotted him leaning against a wall at the entrance of the alley. His suit was soaked through, his face bruised, and he looked like he'd been through hell.
I brought him home, made him a bowl of hot ginger tea, and found him some clean clothes to change into.
The next morning, when he left, he left a business card on my table, Vice President of Sterling Holdings.
After that, Lucas became a regular part of my life, always showing up when I least expected it.
He always told me I was different, kind, genuine, and real.
I thought he truly liked me for who I was, not for my looks or my money, not that I had much money to begin with.
He took me out for street food, strolled through night markets with me, and listened to my stories about hustling alone for years.
Once, when I had a fever, he drove across half the city late at night to drop off some medicine for me.
I thought this was what love felt like.
I thought fate was finally cutting me some slack.
But now that I think about it, every time he turned up in my life, it just so happened to be when Emily needed something.
Whenever Emily wanted a new phone, Lucas would take me out for some street food, then conveniently walk me past a phone store "by chance."
If Emily needed tuition money, Lucas would "thoughtfully" suggest we go out to unwind, and when my guard was down, he'd ask to borrow some cash. Of course, he called it an investment with guaranteed high returns.
Like an idiot, I sent off every dollar I'd pinched and saved, one transfer after another.
It wasn't until later that I realized, after being passed around a few times, all that money ended up right in Emily's account.
And every time Lucas tried to win me over, every time he acted all sweet, Emily would record it and share the clips in her friends' group chat, to make fun of me.
Emily: [Check it out, this old lady is totally wrapped around Lucas' finger again. I can't stop laughing.]
Emily: [She seriously thinks someone would actually like her? So tacky and ugly, almost thirty and still doing nails on the street.]
Emily: [If it wasn't for her money, who would even waste a word on her?]
Zoe Holland, the nurse, was the one who showed me the chat logs. Her sister went to college with Emily and happened to see the screenshots in Emily's social media feed.