Chapter 1

On my eighteenth birthday, a billionaire tracked me down and told me I was his long-lost daughter.

He rented out an entire private hospital and flew in the world's top surgeons, all for one reason: to find a heart donor match for his sick son.

When the lab results confirmed a "flawless match," my so-called mother sobbed and threw her arms around me.

"Thank God, sweetheart! Your brother is saved!"

Yet on the night before the surgery, she handed me a cup of warm milk with dead eyes.

"Drink it," she whispered coldly. "I'll announce that you died from unexpected surgical complications. A girl from the slums doesn't belong in our family anyway. Your heart is the only reason you were brought here."

Behind her, Chloe—the fake heiress who took my place—smirked in triumph.

I looked at them both, calm as stone, and drank every last drop.

Mother, there is one thing you don't know.

My heart has been failing for years. The doctors gave me less than three months to live.

I stared at Chloe's smug grin and swallowed the warm milk down to the dregs.

It tasted faintly of crushed pills—a nauseating, bitter undertone.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I forced a fragile, grateful smile onto my face.

"Thank you, Mom."

She snatched the glass back with satisfied cruelty. When she turned away, she didn't even bother hiding the disgust in her eyes.

"Good. Know your place."

Chloe, the fake daughter who stole eighteen years of my life, hooked her arm around Victoria's.

"See, Mom? I told you she'd do the right thing. She'd do anything for Julian."

The two of them played their sick duet right in front of me, like actors performing a tragedy for an audience of one.

I just smiled politely, nodding along.

Once they left, I lay back against the stark white hospital bed, feeling the quiet shifts inside my body.

I didn't dare fall asleep.

Not yet. I was still waiting.

I was waiting for my biological father—Richard Hayes, CEO of Hayes Enterprises—to come in for his final check.

Sure enough, half an hour later, the door creaked open.

Richard walked in. He wore a sharply tailored three-piece suit, his expression cold and detached. He wasn't visiting his flesh and blood; he was inspecting expensive property he had just acquired.

Right behind him was Dr. White, the world-renowned cardiothoracic surgeon.

"Is she asleep?"

Dr. White checked my pupils and took my pulse, nodding respectfully.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hayes. The sedative dosage is precise. She will sleep straight through until surgery. She won't feel a thing."

"Good."

Richard's voice held zero warmth.

"Remember, Dr. White. This surgery cannot fail. My son's life is worth more than anything in this world."

Dr. White bowed slightly.

"Her heart is an unprecedented, flawless match. A true miracle from God. Julian will make a complete recovery in no time."

I almost laughed out loud.

My dear father. You moved heaven and earth to drag me out of that forgotten town, not to make amends, but to harvest my organs for your precious golden boy.

I was never a daughter to you. I was just a compatible spare part.

To keep me compliant, they lied. They told me it was just basic bloodwork and genetic matching.

When the results came back, my biological mother, Victoria, wept into my shoulder.

Except she wasn't crying for me. She kept murmuring, "Julian is saved."

From start to finish, not a single person ever asked if I was willing to die for him.

To them, my consent didn't matter.

My entire existence wasn't worth as much as the organ beating in my chest.

Richard lingered for a moment, making sure I wouldn't suddenly wake up.

Then, he walked out without looking back.

The moment the heavy door clicked shut, my eyes snapped open.

In the dark room, tears spilled silently down my cheeks.

Mom, you really gave me a potent sedative.

What you didn't know was that before you brought it in, I had already swallowed an entire vial of an odorless, colorless liquid.

A powerful myocardial stimulant.

It forces the heart into an artificial state of extreme vitality and peak strength for a brief window.

But that borrowed vitality comes with a fatal price.

Once taken, the heart only lasts twelve hours.

After twelve hours, it crashes into irreversible, rapid necrosis and total failure.

That drugged milk was simply the cue I had calculated to kick off the grand finale.

You want my heart?

Fine. Take it.

I won't just give it to you—I will personally deliver it right into your precious boy's chest.

I want you to watch your desperate hope ignite, only to shatter into ash right before your eyes.