Chapter 1

I was the discarded original in a classic stand-in drama.

Five years after I left the country, I ran straight into Julian Sterling in front of a luxury jewelry counter.

His eyes widened in shock. Before I could step back, his fingers locked tightly around my wrist.

"Claire! You’re finally back!"

"You came back for me, didn't you? Fine, I forgive you. Let's get back together!"

Get back together?

I stared at him like he had lost his mind. I lifted my left hand and flashed the diamond glittering on my ring finger.

"Get back together? Julian, I’m getting married."

"Want an invite to my wedding registry?"

Julian froze.

His gaze dropped to the sparkling rings displayed under the glass counter, and a smug, exasperated smirk tugged at his lips.

"I know you’re still angry. But buying a cheap ring at the counter to spite me? You don’t need to lie, Claire."

"I really regret what happened back then. I mean it."

I pulled against his grip, but he wouldn't let go.

I let out a weary sigh and looked straight into his eyes.

"Mr. Sterling, it's late."

"I'm sure your wife is waiting for you at home."

Right on cue, his phone began to buzz loudly in his pocket. The caller ID flashed a familiar name: Elena.

The little substitute.

The phone rang incessantly. I arched an eyebrow.

"It’s loud. Aren't you going to pick that up?"

Frustrated, Julian had no choice but to release my wrist. He pulled out his phone and answered with an irritated grimace.

I didn't waste a second. I turned on my heel, pushed through the glass doors, and walked briskly toward my car parked at the curb.

I had returned to the States to prepare for my upcoming wedding with my fiancé. I never expected to run into Julian less than six hours after touching down in New York.

The moment I sat in the driver's seat, my phone lit up.

I swiped the screen. Sebastian’s deep, soothing voice flowed through the speakers.

"Are you settling in okay, sweetheart? How's the jet lag? I had the downtown studio decorated exactly how you liked it. If anything feels off, just let me know."

"My flight lands tomorrow evening. Don't bother coming to the airport—I’ll head straight to you the second I clear customs."

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Julian was still standing under the streetlight, looking dazed. Not far behind him, a woman hurried toward him, talking anxiously.

None of that had anything to do with me anymore.

I shifted into drive, stepped on the gas, and smiled into the phone.

"Sebastian, I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"Focus on your meetings. Don't worry so much about me."

The next morning, I pushed open the glass doors of my riverside design studio. Sebastian had truly outdone himself. Every detail, from the minimalist drafting tables to the potted orchids, was an exact replica of my private studio in Milan. I didn't need any time to adjust; I dove straight into work.

I was leaning over my sketches when the intercom buzzed.

My assistant, Mia, sounded hesitant.

"Claire, there's a Mrs. Sterling here. She doesn't have an appointment, but she's insisting on seeing you..."

Mrs. Sterling?

I paused. I didn't expect her to track me down so fast.

"Send her in."

The heavy oak door swung open.

Framed against the morning sunlight stood a woman whose facial features were a seventy-percent match to mine. She was wrapped in a bespoke designer coat, her makeup immaculate, radiating the effortless aura of high-society wealth.

Seeing her face stirred up memories of an afternoon eight years ago.

Back then, I was visiting a dilapidated school in an impoverished Appalachian mountain town, looking for someone to sponsor.

A little girl in a faded, oversized hand-me-down jacket, with wind-chapped red cheeks, had stepped into the light just like this. Her eyes had been wide with terror and fragile hope.

Now, Elena Sterling strolled into my office with easy arrogance, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

"Claire. Long time no see."