He Folded for a Fraud

My dad never got over his first love, so he traded me for her daughter, Irene.

I spent twenty years like that before they finally took me back and named me the real heiress.

So when it was time to pick a husband, I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted someone with a clean past.

Like Shane Terrell.

Detective captain. Cold, intimidating, and known for ignoring women—yet when he confessed, his ears went red.

"Lana Laurent, you're my first. You have to take responsibility for me."

I believed him. Thought I'd found the one.

Then Irene came back.

I stood in our house and watched Shane hold her, crying.

"Why'd you make me lie to her? Why'd you make me marry her? You're the one I loved first!"

Lana's POV

Shane's last shout slammed through my head.

It didn't hurt.

Just a sharp buzz—high and piercing—spinning the room until I dropped.

My phone kept vibrating on the table. I stared, then swiped.

Even my voice came out broken. "Mom?"

A pause. Then her long sigh.

"Lana, you saw it, didn't you?"

I froze.

My grip tightened on the phone, knuckles going white. "You... knew?"

She laughed, low and mocking, like it was nothing. "Yeah. If you didn't see it yourself, you'd never let go. Your father made you suffer twenty years for that woman. And Shane? He's been acting this whole time for Irene. Your father, Shane—still not enough to wake you up? Love's the least important thing."

From the master bedroom upstairs, the sounds slipped through the door—cheap, ugly proof of every word.

I choked, tears spilling. Still asked, like a kid, "Then what matters, Mom?"

"Money." Her voice was cold. Flat. "Come back to the Laurent estate. I've handled everything. Pack up. Your flight's in a week—you're going to Wharton for finance. Spot's secured. Recommendations too.

"Don't stay here playing a detective captain's trad wife. That's beneath you. Lana, feelings flip fast. Real money doesn't."

I went quiet.

Then I glanced at the mirror in the corner.

Bloodshot eyes. Messy hair. Faint red marks on my neck from last night.

Every detail screamed stupid. Pathetic.

Right in the center of the mirror—a gold wedding decal with our initials.

Shane and I were supposed to get married.

He lied to me.

He cheated on me.

Right now, he was upstairs, tangled with another woman.

I laughed—at myself.

I grabbed the edge of the decal.

Rip—

It peeled off and hit the floor. I stepped over it.

Then I turned and walked out, phone to my ear.

"Fine. But I'm in so much pain. I won't be satisfied unless they feel it too."

My mom let out a low chuckle. "Then show me."