Chosen By The Ruthless Billionaire

When the Gallagher family pulled me out of the foster system, I was never meant to be a daughter. I was acquired as a prop for their biological golden child, Sloane.

I still remember Margaret Gallagher, my new adoptive mother, holding Sloane’s manicured hand while her eyes tracked over me like I was a clearance-rack sweater with a pulled thread.

"She's entirely unremarkable, and her disposition leaves a lot to be desired. Nothing like our Sloane," Margaret had murmured, adjusting her diamond tennis bracelet. "But as a companion for her? A little shadow to keep her grounded? She’ll do."