Chapter 1

When Cassie Brooks married Callum Reid, she was 22, and he was 32.

The age gap wasn't the only notable difference between them. In the bedroom, Callum was exceptionally well-endowed—something that often left Cassie overwhelmed and struggling to handle.

Throughout their three years of marriage, he lavished her with endless affection. Whatever she desired, he provided without question—from extravagant gifts to romantic gestures, treating her like his most treasured possession. The only exception came at night, when his insatiable appetite left her tearfully begging for mercy. He would merely chuckle softly against her ear and continue, ignoring her pleas.

Cassie believed she had everything—a husband with wealth and love, all belonging to her.

Until her father's death changed everything. That day, she called Callum ninety-nine times. He rejected every single call.

Then came the text from Lexi: "Cassie, isn't this Callum? Just spotted him making out with some woman on the Champs-Élysées." The attached photo felt like a knife to her heart.

The man was undeniably Callum. And the woman—Cassie felt sick—was her aunt Laurina.

...

Three days after her father's funeral, Callum finally showed his face at home.

He found Cassie on the couch, hollow-eyed and frail, her usual vitality completely drained.

Guilt flashed across his face as he rushed to embrace her. "Babe, I'm so sorry. Had to fly to Paris for an emergency meeting. The time difference messed everything up—I missed your calls and couldn't make it to the funeral."

"I know I screwed up. Tell me how to fix this. Anything you want, it's yours."

Cassie remained perfectly still as he spoke, her expression blank as a frozen lake.

Without a word, she pulled two documents from her purse, flipped to the signature pages, and placed them in his hands. "Callum, I need these signed."

Relief washed over his face as he grabbed a pen and quickly scrawled his signature on both papers.

Watching him sign without hesitation, Cassie's eyes filled with unshed tears. "You didn't even look at what you're signing. Aren't you worried I might be asking for something crazy expensive?"

Callum pulled her against his chest with a sigh. "Come on, Cass. We're married. What's mine is already yours. Once the baby arrives, everything goes to you two anyway. Whatever you want, it's yours—you know that."

He bent down to her stomach. "Don't you have your checkup today? Is little one behaving? Let me drive you—I'll come in with you."

Cassie said nothing—neither agreeing nor refusing.

Taking her silence as consent, Callum guided her to the car.

The drive was suffocating with tension. Neither spoke a word.

Just as Callum opened his mouth to break the silence, his phone rang.

"Callum, I'm back in town. I need to see you." Laurina's voice came through clearly enough for Cassie to hear every word.

Cassie's hands clenched into fists. She watched as Callum quickly ended the call. "Sorry, babe—something urgent just came up at work. Can you handle the appointment alone?"

Without calling out his obvious lie, Cassie simply opened the door and stepped out.

In the biting wind, she hailed a cab. As the city blurred past her window, memories surged unbidden.

Three years ago, Cassie had been in a horrific car accident. The driver fled, and bystanders were too scared to get involved. As she lay bleeding out on the asphalt, Callum had appeared like some guardian angel and scooped her into his arms.

That day, she fell head over heels for this man ten years her senior.

And miraculously, the successful, mature Callum Reid had fallen for her too.

After a year of dating, they tied the knot.

Perhaps due to his age and experience, he seemed endlessly patient. They never fought. He remembered every anniversary, every gift.

In daily life, he constantly considered her comfort and happiness—except between the sheets.

She couldn't fathom how a thirty-something man possessed such stamina. Many nights she'd sob against his shoulder, begging him to stop, but he'd just smile that infuriating smile and kiss away her tears.

"Don't cry, baby," he'd whisper. "I only want you this much because I love you this much."

"The more we try, sweetheart, the sooner we'll have our little miracle."

So night after night her body ached, until finally, in their third year of marriage, she became pregnant.

Three days ago, her father had suffered a massive stroke. Racing to his side, she found him repeatedly asking for Callum, desperate to see his son-in-law one final time.

Everyone understood—he wanted to entrust his precious daughter to Callum before crossing over. Everyone tried calling him.

Despite countless attempts, despite Cassie calling until her phone actually crashed, they couldn't reach him.

Her father died filled with disappointment and unfinished business.

Cassie had convinced herself Callum must be swamped with work.

Until she had barely finished arranging her father's funeral when Lexi's photo arrived.

Her mind spun, unable to process why her husband would be wrapped around her aunt in public.

Desperate for answers, she finally gathered the courage to enter Callum's off-limits study.

What she found inside shattered her world completely.

The room was a shrine to her aunt Laurina.

Photos plastered every wall. Love letters preserved in protective sleeves. Gifts purchased but never sent. And most damning—a thick journal dedicated to their love story, with entries continuing to the present day.

Through those pages, Cassie learned the ugly truth.

Callum had only truly loved twice in his life.

Her, supposedly.

And her aunt, Laurina Brooks.

They had been college sweethearts whose passionate relationship spanned a decade.

At their happiest, he had crossed oceans with her, explored jungles, and kissed her beneath snow-capped mountains glowing in the sunset.

At their lowest, he had destroyed priceless jewelry in jealous rages, abandoned his pride to chase her across continents, and nearly drunk himself to death after learning she'd moved on.

Every significant emotion in his adult life had Laurina at its center.

And the reason—the only reason—he had married Cassie was because after Laurina left him, he wanted a replacement who resembled her. After all, Cassie's face was practically a younger carbon copy of her aunt's.

So he had orchestrated the hit-and-run accident to make her fall for him.

So he had exhausted her night after night, desperate to create a child.

Not because he wanted their baby. But because he wanted a child who looked like Laurina.

The revelation hit Cassie like a physical blow, leaving her gasping for air.

Every tender moment—fake. Every declaration of love—fake. Every promise, every future plan—completely and utterly fake.

His deception ran soul-deep, from the very beginning.

Though young, Cassie understood you had to empty your heart completely before someone new could fill it.

And more importantly—she refused to be anyone's cheap imitation.

She was Cassie Brooks. Unique. Irreplaceable. One of a kind.

Yet from their very first "chance" meeting, he had been using her as nothing but a stand-in, a placeholder, a counterfeit version of the woman he truly desired.

So she decided: deception deserved deception in return.

She had deliberately kept silent about what he'd just signed:

One document was their divorce papers. The other was consent for an abortion.

She would not be anyone's substitute, and she refused to bring a child into this world with a man who saw her as nothing but a replica of someone else...

Cassie strode purposefully into the hospital and handed the abortion consent form directly to Dr. Olsen.

"I need to terminate this pregnancy," she stated firmly, her decision irrevocable.

Chapter 2

Three hours after the procedure, Cassie dragged herself home, one hand pressed against her now-empty womb.

After a day in bed, she faced her ghost-white reflection in the bathroom mirror. With trembling fingers, she applied a swipe of red lipstick, creating an illusion of life that didn't match the hollow feeling inside her. The makeup concealed her pallor, but her body still betrayed her—cold sweat beading on her skin from the persistent cramping pain.

Wrapped in a thick throw blanket on the living room sofa, she called for Morgan. "Box up everything from the display cases—all the jewelry, handbags, everything. Send it all to auction and donate every penny to UNICEF USA."

Callum, who had just walked in, stopped dead in his tracks.

"Whoa, Cass—where's this coming from? Why the sudden garage sale?" His tone was light, clueless.

She kept her eyes down, avoiding his gaze like it might burn her. "Just decluttering. Don't want it anymore. Consider it good karma for the baby."

The lie slipped easily from her lips. There was no baby anymore.

Mercifully, Callum didn't question her further. He settled beside her on the couch, pulling her close like nothing had changed. "That works for me. Next weekend, we'll hit an auction together. You can pick out whatever catches your eye, and we'll refill those cases with stuff you actually like. Sound good?"

His patronizing tone made her skin crawl—like she was some child he needed to placate with shiny things. She changed the subject. "Work all wrapped up?"

"Completely done. I know things have been rough lately. I'm all yours for the next week—just you, me, and little button in there." He smiled, the picture of a devoted husband.

As his hand moved toward her stomach, Cassie caught it mid-air, her heart pounding with sudden panic.

His eyes dropped to her midsection, brow furrowing slightly as he noticed the change. Before he could question it, Cassie's phone rang—a lifeline.

Seeing "Sebastian" on the screen, she answered quickly. "Hey, Uncle Seb."

"Cassie, Laurina flew in yesterday. We're getting everyone together for dinner at the Brooks Estate tonight. You up for joining us?"

"I'm not feeling great today, so I don't think I can—"

The phone vanished from her hand as Callum swooped in and took over.

"We'll absolutely be there," he said, voice suddenly energetic and eager. "What time?"

Watching the transformation—how quickly he jumped at the chance to see Laurina—Cassie felt something wither inside her. The contrast was devastating.

She couldn't help comparing his enthusiasm now with her father's death day—those ninety-nine desperate calls that went straight to voicemail.

Now it all made horrible sense. When it came to someone he genuinely loved, he seized every opportunity, bulldozing over her wishes without a second thought. Her grief over losing her father hadn't mattered. Her health didn't matter now.

All that mattered was his desperate need to see the woman he truly loved.

After hanging up, Callum caught sight of her expression and realized he'd shown his hand too clearly.

He grabbed her cold fingers between his warm ones. "Come on, Cass. I know you're still processing your dad's death, but you can't just lock yourself away. You're pregnant—it's not healthy to marinate in grief. Some family time will do you good."

Cassie's lips twisted into something approximating a smile. Inside, she thought: I'm not pregnant anymore. And they're not the only family with secrets.

At seven sharp, they pulled up to the Brooks Estate.

Before entering, Callum pressed a gift bag into her hands. "Sebastian mentioned you and Laurina haven't seen each other in years. We should bring something nice."

Once, Cassie would have found this thoughtful—evidence of his attention to detail and social graces.

Now, she saw through it completely—he was using her as a delivery girl, a prop in his scheme to give a gift to the woman he'd been obsessed with for a decade.

She accepted the bag without comment, too tired for confrontation, and walked into the crowded hall.

At the sound of their arrival, Laurina broke from her conversation and turned. Her eyes landed first on Cassie, then widened slightly as they shifted to Callum, who stood possessively close, his hand at the small of Cassie's back.

For a heartbeat, Laurina looked genuinely stunned. "Cassie... who's your friend?"

Cassie stood frozen, the words my husband burning like acid on her tongue.

Callum remained equally silent, playing his part in this farce of strangers meeting for the first time.

Their awkward silence was mercifully broken by eager relatives.

"Laurina, you've been in Europe for three years and missed the wedding! This is Cassie's husband, Callum Reid—you know, the CEO of Reid Enterprises? They've been married three years now..."

Laurina physically swayed, shock flashing nakedly across her face before she regained her composure. With practiced social grace, she extended her hand to Callum. "Pleasure to meet you."

Cassie watched their elaborate performance—two strangers shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries about the weather and her uncle's new kitchen renovation.

Only she could see what was really happening—the careful way they avoided prolonged eye contact, the slight tremor in Laurina's fingers, the tension in Callum's jaw. Ten years of history crackled between them like electrical current.

She mechanically handed over the gift, managing just one flat sentence: "Welcome home, Aunt Laurina."

"Oh, it's just a visit," Laurina replied with practiced casualness. "I'm only in New York for a month before heading back to Paris."

Cassie didn't miss how Callum's expression darkened at this news.

Laurina studiously ignored his reaction as she unwrapped the gift with elegant fingers.

Removing the tissue paper, she revealed a stunning emerald and diamond necklace. Genuine appreciation lit her features. "Cassie, your taste is exquisite. I've been eyeing this exact piece for months."

Watching both their faces—Laurina's delight, Callum's anxious anticipation—Cassie responded with ice in her voice: "Callum selected it. He's always had a knack for knowing exactly what a woman wants."

The double meaning hung in the air between them.

During dinner, Callum barely touched his food. Between gulps of wine, he devoted himself entirely to filling Cassie's plate with heaping portions.

Around the table, relatives exchanged knowing smiles at what appeared to be husbandly devotion.

"Look at Cassie, landing such an attentive husband! The way he dotes on her—I'm practically getting cavities watching them!"

Cassie stared down at her plate—piled high with beef tenderloin and roasted chicken—without lifting her fork. What perfect, excruciating irony.

Since her first trimester, severe morning sickness had made meat completely intolerable. The mere smell made her gag.

Callum knew this intimately—he'd eaten vegetarian with her for weeks in solidarity.

But tonight, that knowledge had completely evaporated from his mind.

He was too preoccupied with discretely repositioning platters, ensuring every seafood dish migrated down the table to Laurina's place setting.

Her aunt, after all, had been obsessed with seafood her entire life.

The realization landed like a blow: when the original appeared, the copy became worthless. All her preferences, her needs, her very existence—instantly forgotten.

Chapter 3

By the end of dinner, Callum was completely hammered.

Concerned about him driving in that state, Sebastian insisted they spend the night. Cassie quietly asked one of the household staff to help her get Callum's dead weight up the stairs to their guest room.

After cleaning him up and getting him into bed, she killed the overhead light, leaving only the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp. She sat on the edge of the mattress, watching his face in repose—so handsome, so familiar, and now so utterly unknown to her.

Before long, Callum stirred, his bloodshot eyes focusing hazily on her silhouette. He reached out with clumsy hands, pulling her against his chest.

"Laurina," he slurred, his voice thick with longing, "you came back for me, didn't you? You finally came back to me."

Cassie's entire body went rigid. The name hit her like a physical blow. She didn't correct him—what would be the point? She wanted to hear the truth, unfiltered.

After several agonizing seconds, she managed to push words past the knot in her throat. "What about you? Tonight... all that drinking... who was that for?"

"It's you, Laurina. God, it's always been you." His voice cracked with raw emotion. "How can you not understand that by now? It's only ever been you."

Though she'd already uncovered the truth in his study, hearing it directly from his lips was like having her heart ripped out of her chest. Every word confirmed her worst suspicions.

Now she understood why Callum Reid—who claimed alcohol gave him migraines and never drank in her presence—had knocked back glass after glass tonight. He'd been terrified of exactly this scenario: that liquid courage would dissolve his carefully constructed facade and reveal his true feelings.

Her lungs felt crushed in a vise, unable to draw breath. She had to escape his embrace or suffocate.

Two hours. That's how long she sat locked in the bathroom, huddled on the cold tile floor, trying to piece herself back together. When she finally managed to compose herself enough to re-enter the bedroom, she discovered Callum was gone.

Crossing to the door, she noticed the motion-activated lights on the balcony had just clicked off.

Moving with silent, deliberate steps, she approached the window. Through the glass, she could make out two silhouettes standing close together in the darkness—Callum and Laurina.

The night concealed their expressions, but their voices carried with devastating clarity.

"You told me yesterday you weren't going back to Europe," Callum said, his voice raw and desperate. "What changed your mind overnight? Was it seeing me with her?"

"And what about you?" Laurina countered, eerily composed. "Why did you marry my niece without ever telling me? How could you do something so... twisted?"

Her calm seemed to shatter something in Callum. Whatever tenuous control he had left crumbled completely as he grabbed Laurina's wrist, his words tumbling out with frantic intensity.

"Why I married her? Jesus Christ, Laurina, you should know better than anyone! Look at her—she's practically your clone! She's your blood! Being with her was the only way I could see you without raising suspicions! Otherwise I'd still be like last week—flying to Paris, camping outside your apartment building for twenty fucking hours, just praying for a thirty-second glimpse of you!"

Each word landed like a sledgehammer against Cassie's chest. So that's where he'd been when her father lay dying—stalking her aunt across an ocean.

Her nails dug so deeply into her palms she felt warm blood welling up.

Laurina seemed physically staggered by his confession. "You're completely insane," she whispered.

"Yes! I am!" Callum's voice rose, bordering on hysterical. "I've been insane since the day you walked out on me! Don't you get that? Ten years, Laurina! Ten years I've loved you, and nothing's changed! I need you near me—even if it's just someone wearing your face as a mask. That's enough for me to survive on memories for the rest of my goddamn life!"

The raw, unhinged anguish in his voice left an uncomfortable silence hanging between them.

After what felt like an eternity, Laurina finally spoke, her voice thick with conflict. "Callum... what about Cassie in all this? You've been married to her for three years. She's carrying your child. Are you telling me you feel nothing genuine for her? Nothing at all?"

Callum actually laughed—a sound so hollow and bitter it barely qualified as human. "Laurina, wake up. She's nothing but a stand-in—a placeholder. How could I truly love her? Even when I'm inside her, even when I'm holding her, I'm seeing your face, hearing your voice, thinking about you! It's always been you!"

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to an intense whisper. "Cassie's baby will be born soon. I've already picked the perfect name—Carina Reid. Your name merged with mine. Together forever, the way we should have been."

Hearing this, Cassie felt ice crystallizing in her veins. The tears she'd been fighting cascaded down her cheeks in silent rivulets.

Carina Reid.

What a fucking perfect name for a child that would never exist.

She closed her eyes, memories assaulting her—his insatiable hunger for her body after they married, his obsessive concern during her pregnancy. All of it suddenly reframed in this new, sickening context. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, holding back a scream of pure anguish.

With the last drops of her strength draining away, she braced herself against the wall and stumbled back toward the bedroom on unsteady legs.

As their voices faded behind her, just before the bedroom door clicked shut, she caught Laurina's final question: "Aren't you afraid Cassie will discover what you've done?"

And Callum's arrogant reply: "She'll never find out. Even if she did, she loves me too much to ever leave. She's too dependent, too naive. She's mine forever."

Never leave? Really?

Cassie pressed her palm against her now-flat stomach, a bitter smile twisting her lips.

She had already left him in every way that mattered.

She would shatter the golden cage he'd built around her and fly toward something real—toward freedom.

Never looking back.

Callum didn't return to their room that night.

At first light, Cassie dressed quickly and silently.

Without waking anyone, she slipped out of the Brooks Estate, drove home, and immediately began processing immigration paperwork. Her father's death had left her with more than enough money to start over anywhere she chose.

Just as she finished the initial applications, her phone lit up with Laurina's name.

"Cassie? I was thinking of visiting the cemetery today. I'd like to pay my respects to your father, and... maybe visit my sister's grave while we're there. Would you come with me?"

Cassie's mother had died when she was very young, which was why her connection to her maternal relatives had always been tenuous.

Despite only a five-year age gap, she and Laurina had never been close. Their interactions had been limited to occasional holiday gatherings and family emergencies.

But since Laurina wanted to visit the graves of people Cassie loved, she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

She picked up a bouquet of white lilies on the way and was approaching the cemetery entrance when she spotted a familiar Maserati parked nearby.

Callum.

He spotted her too, immediately exiting the car and striding toward her with that same possessive confidence he'd always shown. "Babe, why didn't you tell me you were visiting the cemetery? I would've come with you."