Chapter 1 · Karma Is a Bitter Pill

I was the true heiress of the Evans family. A nanny swapped me with her own daughter.

When the truth came out, I was brought back to the Evans family.

But the moment the fake heiress cried, my biological parents dropped all plans to press charges and instead urged me to be the bigger person and not make a scene.

The nanny's family faced no punishment at all. Instead, they lived a life of luxury, all thanks to the fake heiress.

They trusted her unconditionally. My heart died, and I walked away.

But the wheel of fortune turns.

Ten years later, the fake heiress gave birth, and her baby was swapped. The Evans family erupted.

The eldest brother secretly took his son for a DNA test. The child was not his.

The second brother had his daughter's DNA tested overnight. Also not his.

They begged and cried for the traffickers to be punished. I smiled. "Be the bigger person. Why make such a scene?"

*****

Michael Evans found me right after I got off work.

I was thinking about what to make for dinner when I looked up and saw him.

Great, just what I needed.

I didn't want to deal with him, so I just walked right past.

But Michael hurried over and blocked my way.

"Emily, we need to talk," he said.

I pointed at the plastic bag in my hand. "Mr. Evans, I'm busy. I need to get home and cook."

"Just ten minutes," he insisted. "Something happened at home. You must have heard."

Of course I knew.

My phone had been blowing up with notifications for days.

Evans Holdings was caught up in a baby-switching scandal, and its stock price was tanking.

It all started when my adoptive parents somehow got involved with the fake heiress, Claire. She handed them loads of cash, and they went and bought a massive villa in the city. Just like that, they were rolling in money.

With nothing better to do, they started seeking attention, showing off to anyone who'd listen about their amazing daughter.

Some nosy person got David drunk, and he spilled the whole story.

They caught it all on video, uploaded it, and it blew up online.

"Mr. Evans, what does your family's mess have to do with me?" I shot back.

"Emily, this isn't the time to be difficult," he said.

He frowned, putting on that big-brother act like he always did, trying to lecture me.

"Mom and Dad are getting old; they can't handle this. Claire's pregnant, and people are blowing up her DMs with hate every day. She's about to break down. We're family," he said.

"Mr. Evans, you're way too bossy. I don't want to talk to you," I said.

With that, I tried to walk around him.

"Wait." Michael blocked me again. "If you just step up and say a few nice things, prove you left on your own."

I stopped and looked up at him.

The streetlight hit his face, half in shadow, chin raised, lips pressed tight. He looked like he was losing patience.

Ten years ago, it was just like this. He stood on the Evans family's spiral staircase, looking down at me like I was nothing.

What did I look like back then?

Oh, I remembered. I had a backpack with everything I owned stuffed inside. I must've looked really shabby.

So he said, "Get rid of that pathetic bag. You can use anything in the house, but just stay away from Claire's things."

That one sentence snuffed out all my excitement and hope. I knew right then he never wanted me home.

"Michael Evans," I said, using his full name for the first time, "did you watch that video?"

He frowned and nodded.

So he did watch it.

Then how does he have the nerve to come to me?

I'd never forget the smug, disgusting look on David's face in that video. Even with his face blurred, I could still see how proud he was.

He bragged about how he'd abused and belittled me, like it was something to be proud of.

He gloated about how great his real daughter had it.

Michael never saw any of that. Or maybe he did, but just didn't care. "You left on your own. If you just come forward and say it was your choice, I can..."

"Save it. I don't waste my breath on morons," I shot back.

Without giving his stunned face a second glance, I brushed right past him, headed up to the third floor, pulled out my keys, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me.

I did it all in one smooth motion, not missing a beat.

I learned this ten years ago: some ties weren't worth holding onto.

Chapter 1

I was the true heiress of the Evans family. A nanny swapped me with her own daughter.

When the truth came out, I was brought back to the Evans family.

But the moment the fake heiress cried, my biological parents dropped all plans to press charges and instead urged me to be the bigger person and not make a scene.

The nanny's family faced no punishment at all. Instead, they lived a life of luxury, all thanks to the fake heiress.

They trusted her unconditionally. My heart died, and I walked away.

But the wheel of fortune turns.

Ten years later, the fake heiress gave birth, and her baby was swapped. The Evans family erupted.

The eldest brother secretly took his son for a DNA test. The child was not his.

The second brother had his daughter's DNA tested overnight. Also not his.

They begged and cried for the traffickers to be punished. I smiled. "Be the bigger person. Why make such a scene?"

*****

Michael Evans found me right after I got off work.

I was thinking about what to make for dinner when I looked up and saw him.

Great, just what I needed.

I didn't want to deal with him, so I just walked right past.

But Michael hurried over and blocked my way.

"Emily, we need to talk," he said.

I pointed at the plastic bag in my hand. "Mr. Evans, I'm busy. I need to get home and cook."

"Just ten minutes," he insisted. "Something happened at home. You must have heard."

Of course I knew.

My phone had been blowing up with notifications for days.

Evans Holdings was caught up in a baby-switching scandal, and its stock price was tanking.

With nothing better to do, they started seeking attention, showing off to anyone who'd listen about their amazing daughter.

Some nosy person got David drunk, and he spilled the whole story.

They caught it all on video, uploaded it, and it blew up online.

"Mr. Evans, what does your family's mess have to do with me?" I shot back.

"Emily, this isn't the time to be difficult," he said.

He frowned, putting on that big-brother act like he always did, trying to lecture me.

"Mom and Dad are getting old; they can't handle this. Claire's pregnant, and people are blowing up her DMs with hate every day. She's about to break down. We're family," he said.

"Mr. Evans, you're way too bossy. I don't want to talk to you," I said.

With that, I tried to walk around him.

"Wait." Michael blocked me again. "If you just step up and say a few nice things, prove you left on your own."

I stopped and looked up at him.

The streetlight hit his face, half in shadow, chin raised, lips pressed tight. He looked like he was losing patience.

Ten years ago, it was just like this. He stood on the Evans family's spiral staircase, looking down at me like I was nothing.

What did I look like back then?

Oh, I remembered. I had a backpack with everything I owned stuffed inside. I must've looked really shabby.

So he said, "Get rid of that pathetic bag. You can use anything in the house, but just stay away from Claire's things."

That one sentence snuffed out all my excitement and hope. I knew right then he never wanted me home.

"Michael Evans," I said, using his full name for the first time, "did you watch that video?"

He frowned and nodded.

So he did watch it.

Then how does he have the nerve to come to me?

I'd never forget the smug, disgusting look on David's face in that video. Even with his face blurred, I could still see how proud he was.

He bragged about how he'd abused and belittled me, like it was something to be proud of.

He gloated about how great his real daughter had it.

Michael never saw any of that. Or maybe he did, but just didn't care. "You left on your own. If you just come forward and say it was your choice, I can..."

"Save it. I don't waste my breath on morons," I shot back.

Without giving his stunned face a second glance, I brushed right past him, headed up to the third floor, pulled out my keys, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me.

I did it all in one smooth motion, not missing a beat.

I learned this ten years ago: some ties weren't worth holding onto.