Chapter 1
The day I was brought back to the Lynn family, they made my purpose crystal clear.
I was a spare heart for Vivian Lynn, the fake heiress.
My parents, my brother, even my fiancé—they all worshipped that imposter.
My fiancé Charles Grant grabbed my chin, his voice ice-cold.
"Just be her stand-in. Go through with the engagement in her place.
"Once Vivian gets better, I'll pay you off and you can get lost."
They drained my blood, locked me away, and forced me to become Vivian's copy.
All so she could stay happy while she was sick.
On the day of the transplant surgery, lying on that freezing operating table, I smiled and asked, "What if I told you she has a genetic heart condition?
"What if I'm not even your real daughter?"
*****
I calmly signed my name—Evelyn Lynn—on the live organ donation consent form.
They called it a "family gift."
Before the ink dried, my birth mother Helen Lynn was already ordering the housekeeper around.
"Hurry up. Take Eve to get her blood drawn. Vivian needs it."
The nurse jabbed a cold needle into my arm.
My blood filled the bag drop by drop.
Across the room, Vivian lay sprawled on the couch, frowning.
"Mom, the smell of blood is making me nauseous."
Helen covered her nose immediately, her voice soft.
"Almost done, sweetheart."
She never once looked at me. I was just a walking blood bank.
After the draw, my vision went black. I had to lean against the wall to stay upright.
My father Richard Lynn shoved a black card into my hand.
"Fifteen thousand. That's your food money for the next few months."
His tone was all business, like discussing an investment portfolio.
"Stay healthy. Don't let us down."
I gripped the card so hard my nails cut into my palm.
Just then, the door opened. A tall, broad-shouldered figure walked in—my fiancé Charles.
He went straight to Vivian, his eyes gentle with concern.
"How are you feeling today?"
Vivian smiled weakly, "Better now that you're here."
When he finally looked at me, his gaze was cold and distant, like I was furniture.
He threw a stack of papers at my feet.
"Memorize these. Vivian's favorites, habits, the way she talks.
"When I take you to events, don't screw up and embarrass her."
They put me in the room next to Vivian's.
No windows. Just surveillance cameras watching me 24/7.
They said it was for "convenient care."
Actually, it was to monitor my heart around the clock. I was nothing but a walking organ.
My first day as Vivian's shadow started with piano lessons.
Charles loved hearing Vivian play Moonlight Sonata.
I fumbled over the keys and hit a wrong note.
My brother Marcus Lynn kicked the piano bench out from under me.
The bench flipped, and I crashed to the floor.
"Idiot!"
He glared down at me with pure disgust.
"Can't even handle something this simple. Useless!"
Late that night, my stomach cramped with hunger.
In the kitchen, I found only cold leftovers no one wanted.
From Vivian's room next door came laughter and happy voices.
They were celebrating her "good day."
I slipped back to my tiny room.
From a hidden pocket in my suitcase, I pulled out a blade and sliced my fingertip.
The sharp pain jolted me awake.
I needed it to fight off the numbness and despair closing in.
A few days later, Vivian was too sick to attend a business party, so Charles dragged me along as her replacement.
I put on a white chiffon dress—Vivian's style—and did my makeup the way she liked it: soft and natural.
At the party, one of Charles' friends raised his glass, eyeing me with a smirk.
"Switching it up tonight, Charles? She looks even more innocent than Vivian."
Charles pulled me close, his grip on my waist crushing.
He smiled at his friend, his gaze remaining cold.
"Just a knockoff. Here for some fun."
I stood frozen while chuckle rippled around me, turning my blood to ice.
The moment I went back home, Helen slapped me across the face.