Chapter 1
I was out delivering takeout in the middle of a typhoon, holding an outrageously expensive broth as I knocked on the door of a luxury mansion.
The door opened, and standing there was my husband, James Harrington, the man who had been missing for three years.
A woman in a silk slip pressed herself against him from behind. "James, why is the takeout so slow? What if I get hungry and it affects the baby?"
James's voice was dripping with tenderness. "Don't worry, sweetheart. If our baby gets hungry, I'll buy the entire delivery company to apologize."
Right in front of me, they exchanged a lingering, passionate kiss.
My heart instantly turned to ice.
James must have forgotten everything.
Three years ago, when he lost his memory and the Harringtons took him back, I was pregnant with twins.
Now, all that was left was my daughter, Lily Grant, born with a heart defect, waiting for me to come home.
*****
"Mr. Harrington, your takeout," I said, my voice trembling.
Emily Lane finally pulled herself out of James's arms and gave me a look full of disgust. "Ugh, why is the box all wet? So gross!"
She reached out, her hand flashing a huge diamond ring, and delicately pinched the corner of the insulated bag.
Suddenly, she let go.
Most of the scalding broth spilled onto the back of my hand and my calf.
My skin reddened and blistered right before my eyes.
"Seriously? How could you be so careless? You messed up James's imported carpet. Can you pay for it?" Emily shrieked, backing away and pinning the blame on me.
I couldn't say a word back; I couldn't risk getting a complaint.
If they docked my pay, Lily wouldn't have money for her medicine tomorrow.
"I'm sorry." I reached down to pick up the shards of broken porcelain and the sticky broth from the floor.
Above me, James let out a cold, disdainful snort. "Enough. Don't let this lowlife ruin your mood. What if it stresses you and harms the baby?"
He pulled out a wad of bills from his wallet and threw them right into the mess of hot broth and muddy water on the floor. "Go ahead, lick the carpet clean. That cash is for your medical bills."
Emily covered her mouth, laughing. "James, you're so generous, even to mutts."
Rainwater mixed with cold sweat slipped into my eyes, making them ache. "Thank you, Mr. Harrington."
I grabbed the wad of bills, about three hundred dollars, and turned to walk downstairs.
My electric scooter had been knocked over by the wind. The mirror was shattered, the battery was soaked, and now it was completely dead.
I pushed the heavy scooter, stumbling through knee-deep water on the flooded street, every step harder than the last.
My phone was buzzing like crazy in my pocket.
I fumbled to answer it.
"Lucy? Lily's gone into cardiac arrest; she's being resuscitated. You need to come sign the consent forms right now. And you have to pay the outstanding bill!" the doctor said urgently.
"I'm coming. Please, save her. I'm coming!" I dropped the scooter and sprinted through the torrential rain.
The hospital hallway was icy cold. I collapsed outside the emergency room.
Half an hour later, a nurse walked out holding a stack of forms. "Lily needs a heart valve replacement surgery immediately. With imported materials and the anti-rejection treatment, you'll have to come up with 200,000 dollars."
I opened my hand. All I had was the hundred dollars James had thrown at me.
With what was left on my card, it was still less than a thousand dollars.
"Three days. That's all the time you have to come up with the money. Otherwise, you'll have to start preparing for the worst," the nurse sighed, then turned and walked away.
I clutched the critical condition notice, my nails digging into my palm.
Where was I supposed to get 200,000 dollars?
The light outside the emergency room turned off.
Lily was wheeled out, her body covered with tubes.
"Mommy..." Lily's eyes fluttered open, her voice softer than a kitten's meow.
"Mommy's here, Lily. Don't be scared." I held back my tears.
"Mommy, it hurts. Where's Daddy? When will he come help Lily?" Lily whispered.
It felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds.
"Daddy's working really hard. He'll come to save us soon," I lied.
For three years, I had been repeating this same lie to her, day after day.
Three years ago, James was working as a mechanic, and I used to call him Jamie.
He'd lost his memory, couldn't remember anything, and we squeezed into a tiny 100 square feet apartment, relying on each other to survive.
That day, I was sick from morning sickness, and he said he'd run to the corner to buy me some sour plums.
But he never came back.
Half a year later, I saw him on TV.
He was James Harrington, the long-lost heir of Harrington Enterprises, about to get engaged to Emily, the heiress of the Lane family.
I went to Harrington Tower, heavily pregnant, hoping to find him.
But the Harrington family's bodyguards blocked me at the door. In the chaos, I was shoved and tumbled down the steps.
I started bleeding badly. I went into premature labor.
The doctor asked if I wanted to save myself or the baby. I was in agony, barely conscious, but I cried out that I wanted both of us to live.
I ended up giving birth to twins.
My son didn't survive. He was gone before I could even see him.
Lily made it, but she was born with a serious heart defect.
After that, I never went looking for James again.
*****
I opened my contacts and started calling everyone I could think of who might lend me money.
"Uncle, Lily needs surgery. Is there any way you could help me out?" I pleaded.
"Oh, Lucy, we just bought a house; there's no money left. Sorry, gotta hang up."
"Laura, I—" I started.
"Lucy, you still haven't paid back the six hundred dollars you borrowed last time!"
Hopelessness washed over me, like falling into a bottomless pit, with no way out.
My phone buzzed with a notification from a part-time job group chat.
[Blue Horizon Yacht Club is urgently hiring temporary VIP waitstaff. Starting pay is 3,000 dollars, and if the guests are happy, tips have no ceiling. If you can swallow your pride, apply.]
I messaged the supervisor right away: [I'm in.]
For 200,000 dollars, I'd risk my life, so what was a little humiliation?
At eight o'clock that night, I rushed to the Blue Horizon Yacht Club.
The supervisor tossed me a uniform.
It was a black velvet dress, so short it barely covered my thighs, and the back was wide open.
"Just pour the drinks. Keep your eyes and ears to yourself. Do whatever the guests ask, no questions," the supervisor said.
I nodded and followed the supervisor to the penthouse suite.
"Well, James, you've been lying low these past three years. Emily's been watching you like a hawk," a guy called out.
My hand trembled, and I nearly spilled the wine.
James was sprawled out on the leather sofa, Emily snuggled up in his arms, grinning flirtatiously.
'God, please don't let him recognize me,' I thought.
"Tonight's the party for the third anniversary of my engagement to Emily. Have fun, everyone," James said, his voice low and steady.
It had been three years since they got engaged.
Doing the math, I realized it was the exact day I fell down those steps, lost my son, and gave birth to Lily.
I lifted the tray, ready to step away.
Suddenly, a bleached trust fund brat reached out and clamped his hand around my waist. "Hey, this new waitress has a pretty slim waist."
I instinctively recoiled.
The tray tilted, and a glass of red wine spilled straight onto Emily's designer white dress.