Chapter 2

The next day, I woke up around noon.

James was still home, which was rare. He was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

When he saw me come out, he quickly put his phone down and cleared his throat. "Claire, didn't you say all those clothes in your closet are outdated? I've got nothing to do today, so I'll go with you and help you pick out some new stuff."

"No, thanks. I'm hanging out with Emily today," I said without thinking.

"Don't be like that, Claire. How long are you planning to keep giving me the silent treatment?" He rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his eyebrows furrowed.

He pressed his lips together, sounding annoyed. "I'm giving you a way out here. Are you waiting for the next time my grandpa shows up so you can run and tell on me again?"

So that was why he was acting so strange today. He thought I was still playing the same old games.

To be fair, I did use that trick on him all the time before.

"Relax, I'm not going to do that anymore. I used to be way too controlling," I said quickly, waving my hands. "All those stupid rules I made? Forget them. From now on, do whatever you want. I'm done getting involved."

"Seriously?" James gave me a skeptical look.

Afraid he wouldn't believe me, I put my hand over my heart. "I swear," I said, completely serious.

He stared straight at me, his eyes getting red. His face looked almost wet, as if he had cried.

His chest rose and fell hard, like something was crushing him.

Finally, he spun around, his voice cold and hard. "Fine. Have it your way."

The second he finished speaking, he slammed the door behind him.

I stood there frozen, confused about why James was angry again.

*****

That afternoon, I met up with Emily at a café and told her the whole story about my identity.

She sat there in shock for a while before it finally sank in.

"So, you stopped controlling him like before because you think you two are bound to break up?" Emily asked. "But have you thought that maybe James actually cares about you? He might not agree to call it off."

"James doesn't care about me," I said, forcing a smile. "He literally told me last week to my face that he hates me. I've only just figured out how eager he is to walk away from this engagement."

After all those years stuck with James, of course I had feelings for him.

That night, when I learned I was switched at birth, I was furious and wanted to take it all out on him.

That was when I happened to overhear him talking with his friends.

"James, are you really going to let Claire keep treating you like her personal project forever?" one of them asked. "Everyone says you're completely whipped.

"Whatever she says, you go along with it. You don't actually have a thing for her, do you?"

"Absolutely not," James said, his voice cold. "If I ever wanted someone, trust me, it wouldn't be her. She's the last girl I'd ever go for.

"Yeah, she's got beautiful skin and big eyes, but honestly, seeing her annoys the hell out of me.

"If it wasn't for my grandpa forcing this engagement on me, I would have kicked her to the curb a long time ago."

Back then, I stood outside the private room feeling completely empty inside. Whatever little feelings I had left for James were gone.

I snuck out of the club without anyone noticing and walked alone for a very long time.

"He said those words himself," I told Emily, my lips pressed tight. "He wishes he could break off the engagement right now."

Emily opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she stayed silent, her eyes full of conflict.

I finally told her what was really on my mind.

My pride had always been my biggest weakness. If everyone found out I wasn't the real heiress and the Carters dumped me, I'd never hear the end of it from our social circle.

So I'd already decided. Before the real heiress showed up, I was going to end things myself.

James hadn't been home for a few days, which meant no one had been keeping an eye on him.

Normally, if he wasn't back by midnight, I would either blow up his phone with texts or drive over there myself.

Tonight, right as I was getting ready for bed, one of James's friends suddenly sent me a video.

The message read: [Hey, Claire, James insists on calling over a hostess tonight. Don't you want to come by and knock some sense into him?]

I clicked on the video.

On the screen, James was sprawled lazily on the couch, looking completely at ease, and standing in front of him was a sweet, innocent-looking girl.

My chest immediately tightened. So he really took what I said to heart, and that fast.

[Got it.] I replied, and then turned off my phone.

But he sent another video right after.

In this one, James had his arm around the girl, grinning as he slipped his credit card into her hand. "My fiancée won't talk to me anymore. What else am I supposed to do?" he joked.

My eyes started to sting, so I blocked that friend of his on my phone without a second thought.

Before I made the final decision to break off the engagement, I decided to move out of James's apartment first.

This place was supposed to be the wedding home prepared by the Carters for James and me, but since the marriage wasn't happening anymore, there was no reason for me to stay.

*****

I searched for a few days and finally found a place I liked. Today was the day I was supposed to sign the papers.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I ran into Andrew Shaw, a senior I knew from college.

We were chatting and laughing as we walked out together.

But the second we got to the front gate of the complex, I came face to face with James, someone I knew all too well.

James glared at Andrew and me, his eyes filled with disbelief, fury, and a hint of panic.

He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes turning red, his jaw clenched tight. His voice shook with anger when he demanded, "Claire, who is he? Don't forget you're still my fiancée."

"I won't be before long," I muttered under my breath.

James's eyes narrowed in disbelief. He rushed over and grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging in so hard that his knuckles went white.

He was breathing hard, his eyes blazing with anger and glistening with unshed tears. "Claire, are you going to dump me for him?"

Before I could say anything, James yanked me into the car.

He crashed his lips against mine, desperate and rough, and then gave my earlobe a sharp bite. "Claire, we grew up together. Who is he to you?"

I shoved him away, furious. "Get off me."

But James didn't care. He kept going, kissing down to my collarbone, all dominant and teasing.

"Claire, did you tell me to get off?" His hand slid to the side of my thigh, and he leaned in with a threatening smirk. "If you dare get out of this car, I'll make you cry with my kisses right in front of him."