Chapter 1

The day my biological parents took me back into their wealthy family, I was kidnapped along with the fake heiress.

My biological older brother, James Carter, a sniper, said, "There are two targets. I'm choosing the one on the right."

The one on the right was the fake heiress.

James continued, "I've always been fair and impartial. I can't play favorites. Everyone knows who my real sister is, so I can't save you first."

My mom, Anna Carter, tried to persuade me too. "James can't show favoritism. People would talk, and it could ruin his career. You're blessed. You'll be fine."

The fake heiress was rescued, while I was taken away by the kidnapper holding me.

Later, when they found me barely alive, they cried and said they regretted it.

But I didn't need them anymore.

*****

The day my biological parents finally brought me back into their wealthy family, I was kidnapped along with the fake heiress. A blade pressed against my neck, its cold edge resting on my artery, and every swallow made me feel the metal.

And my biological brother, the sniper who had supposedly spent eighteen years searching for me, stared at me through his scope for three whole seconds before saying, "There are two targets. I'm choosing the one on the right."

On the right was Emily Carter, the fake heiress who had taken my place, stolen my identity, and lived the life of luxury that should have been mine for eighteen years.

His voice came through the two-way radio as calmly as if he were deciding what to have for lunch. "I've always been fair and impartial. I can't play favorites. Everyone knows who my real sister is, so I can't save you first."

My brother, James Carter, lay on a rooftop about 330 yards away in full sniper gear and used his so-called professionalism to tell me one thing: to avoid looking biased, he chose to save Emily first.

How fucking ironic.

Emily wore the designer dress that should have been mine, the pearl necklace that should have been mine, leaned into the family that should have been mine, and lived the life that should have belonged to me for eighteen years.

And now, she was even stealing James's bullet.

My mother said through the two-way radio, thick with tears, but every word was crystal clear. "Sophia, James does love you.

"He can't play favorites. People would talk, and it'd hurt his career. You're blessed. Nothing will happen to you."

Blessed.

Hearing that word made me want to laugh.

A girl who'd been switched at birth, raised on leftovers in the countryside, and worked like free labor for her foster parents... what part of that was blessed?

The luckiest thing that had ever happened to me was probably getting taken back by this rich family and kidnapped with the fake heiress on the very same day.

The kidnapper tightened the knife again, and something warm ran down my neck. My blood.

"Don't move," the man behind me muttered, his voice rough as gravel. "Move again and I'll slit your throat first."

I didn't move.

Not because I was scared, but because I was thinking about something almost funny. If James saved me first, people would gossip and his career would suffer. Then if he saved Emily first, what would happen to Emily?

The answer was, nothing at all.

Everyone would praise him for being selfless, for staying unbiased, for being a good sniper and a good soldier. And I was the price of his fairness.

From about 330 yards away, James's voice came through again. "Emily, don't be scared. I'm here."

He called Emily "Emily," but he called me "target."

One was a sister with a name. The other was a target to be weighed.

Then my father, Charles Carter, said through the two-way radio, low and urgent. "James, are you sure? Sophia's side..."

James cut him off. "Dad.

"I've already assessed it. The one on the right, Emily's kidnapper, has an opening. One shot will do it. The one on the left is too close to her vital area. The risk is too high. From a professional standpoint, I choose the right."

From a professional standpoint.

Not from the standpoint of a brother. From the standpoint of a professional.

What a nice, polished excuse.

James paused. "And besides... if I save Sophia first, how will it look?

"People will say I abused my power for personal reasons. My career would be over. Emily is innocent. She grew up in our family. She's no different from a real sister. I can't treat them differently because of blood."