Chapter 2

On the other end of the line, my father's voice was low and alert: "Moira, tell me. What happened?"

I told him everything—from Freya's return and Julian's devoted attention to her, to his announcement at the press conference that Freya was his fiancée, to his demand that I take the fall for the kidnapping, and finally, that test result showing three weeks pregnant.

Five years ago, my father had wanted me to take over the family's core operations. But back then, I had just fallen in love with Julian. My head was full of dreams about an ordinary life filled with love—I didn't want to be shackled by family duty.

I refused my father. I even severed all ties with the family for Julian's sake.

My father couldn't hide his disappointment, but he still respected my choice. Before I left, he pressed a signet ring bearing the family crest into my palm: "Remember, you will always be the heir to the Corsican family. Whenever you need to come home, we'll be waiting for you."

At the time, I didn't take it to heart. I was convinced that my love with Julian was true and passionate. Convinced he was worth giving up everything for.

But reality slapped me hard across the face.

He had given all his tenderness and care to another woman—even let her carry his child.

And I had become a pawn to be sacrificed for that woman whenever convenient.

After hearing my account, my father was silent for a moment.

When he spoke again, his voice carried the cold ruthlessness characteristic of the Corsican family: "I'll send someone to pick you up. As for the man who betrayed you—he will pay for today's choices."

After I hung up, my heart felt calmer than it had ever been.

Over the following week, Julian insisted on moving into Freya's place to care for her around the clock.

I tried to reason with him: "Julian, you can hire the best nursing team for her. But you're my fiancé. You're living at another woman's house day and night—what will people think of us?"

What I didn't expect was that he'd immediately turn on me: "Moira! Freya has cancer! What's wrong with me taking care of her? Can some hired nurse be as attentive as me? We're not even married yet—what right do you have to tell me what to do?"

I drew a deep breath, forcing myself to stay composed. "Julian, this isn't about freedom. You're my fiancé, yet you're by another woman's side day and night. What does that make me?"

"Enough!" He suddenly raised his voice. "You're just jealous of Freya. You just can't stand seeing me be good to someone else. Let me make this clear—Freya is the most important person in my life! Whether you agree or not, I'm going!"

Those words hit me like a sledgehammer. He said Freya was the most important person in his life.

"Then what about me?" I pressed my hand against my chest, my voice beginning to tremble. "What am I to you? Your heart is full of her—have you ever once considered my feelings? I'm your fiancée, Julian!"

Julian's expression froze, a flash of panic crossing his eyes. But he quickly looked away. "I don't have time to argue about this!"

He grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him without a backward glance.

I stood there, watching his retreating figure disappear at the end of the hallway. Strangely, after so many betrayals, my heart had grown a kind of numb callousness.

The pain seemed to be drifting further and further away.

I tugged lightly at the corner of my lips, then walked into the study and retrieved a locked metal box from the depths of a drawer. Inside lay the past I had deliberately sealed away for five years—the family signet ring, encrypted account keys, and a detailed list of assets.

I took out the ring and gripped it tightly in my palm.

The Corsican family crest. The cold metal pressed against my skin, yet it brought a sense of security I hadn't felt in years.

Opening my laptop, I began erasing every trace of my existence in this city, one by one. Bank accounts, rental agreements, social media profiles... Everything connected to the identity of "Moira" had to be completely wiped within two weeks.

After I was gone, Julian wouldn't find a single trace of me.

At three in the morning, I closed my laptop and walked to the window.

The city lights flickered in the darkness, the silhouettes of skyscrapers blurring into the night. I had lived here for five years, once naively believing this would be my final home.

Only now did I understand—this place had never belonged to me.

I looked down at the signet ring in my hand and slowly slid it back onto my ring finger.

Moira Corsican.

It was time to go home.