Part 1He Loved The Wrong One

In my past life, I didn't realize Vincent Sinclair loved the wrong person until our wedding day.

When my twin sister returned from abroad and appeared at the venue, the ruthless heir to the Sinclair empire froze. His eyes turned bloodshot as he stared dead at her.

That was the moment I finally understood. He had spent the last two years showering me with money, resources, and a borderline obsessive pursuit, all because I shared a face with her.

Given a second chance, I stood by my second-floor window and looked down at the man who had been standing in the snow all night waiting for me to cave. Without a shred of hesitation, I texted him my sister's flight details.

* * *

Since his true love was back, this stand-in was officially retiring.

The text had barely gone through when the man downstairs reacted.

I hid in the dark bedroom, watching him pull his phone from his overcoat. He glanced at the screen.

Then his head snapped up. His piercing gaze locked straight onto my window.

Even with the thick blackout curtains drawn, I instinctively shrank back against the wall.

My screen lit up. Vincent's text arrived instantly. "Where did you go? When are you leaving?"

I could feel his suffocating presence bleeding through the screen.

I tossed the phone onto the mattress and ignored him.