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."

When I got back to the Laurent estate, Shane texted me:

[Something came up. I can't be with you the next couple days. Sorry.]

I let out a cold laugh and blocked him right away.

Disgusting.

What "something"?

He and Irene were probably wrecking my bed.

Fine.

Those two days gave me time to pack and get ready to leave Carmoria.

The next day, a staff member rushed in. "Ms. Laurent, Mr. Wade's here. He's at the gate, won't leave until he sees you."

I frowned. Bad feeling, instant.

My father never showed unless he wanted something.

"Did he say why?"

She shook her head. "No. Just anxious. Won't leave."

I paused, then decided not to let him in.

I walked to the gate. "What is it?"

My father had his back to me, arguing with the guards. The second he heard my voice, he grabbed the iron gate.

"Lana, you're finally here! Hurry—come with me. Something bad happened!"

I frowned. Didn't open the gate. Stepped back. "Then call the police. Not me. I can't help you."

He shook the gate harder, frantic. "No! Only you can help me! Open it!"

"What happened?"

He hesitated, dodged it, just kept pushing me to go with him.

I was done with the act.

I turned to leave—

Footsteps rushed up.

"Lana!"

Shane.

He spoke fast, panic clear.

"Your dad's not lying. It's serious. Complicated—come with us. I'll explain on the way."

I hesitated.

Then I saw his uniform and chose to trust it.

I nodded to the guard. "Open the gate."

Shane grabbed my hand and pulled me out, like I might bolt.

I stumbled into the car. "What's going on? Tell me now."

He stiffened for a beat, then brushed me off. "You'll know when we get there."

My frown deepened.

Quietly, I edited a few messages and sent them out.

The car screeched to a stop in front of a half-built, abandoned site.

I stepped out—and froze.

A masked man stood ahead, holding Irene. He shouted, "Jacob, where's my money? You got it? Try anything, I kill your daughter! You said you'd bring a trade. I've waited long enough. I'm done waiting. Pay up!"

I knew exactly what they were planning.

I turned to run, but Shane grabbed me from behind.

My dad shouted at the kidnapper, "You know my investments tanked. I can't pull that kind of money right now! But I brought Lana! Look—take her. She's worth more than Irene. She's mine and Winona Laurent's—Laurent blood. Her mom's loaded. Whatever you want! I'll trade her. Let Irene go!"

The second the kidnapper heard "Laurent," his eyes lit up. "Fine! Bring her over. We trade!"

I stared at my father, trying to process it.

"Jacob Wade, you're a damn monster! Irene's your daughter—what am I?"

He knew he was wrong.

Didn't even dare to face me.

I snapped to Shane, fighting his grip. "Shane, let me go! Are you insane? I'm your fiancée! You're trading me for her?"

My voice tore out of me.

Shane looked away, guilt all over his face. "I'm sorry, Lana. This is the best option. Irene's fragile—she can't handle this. The knife already cut her. Keep this up, she'll be traumatized. But you're different. Stronger. Calmer."

He paused, like he was convincing me—or himself. "Trust me. I'm a detective captain. I won't let anything happen to you. But we need to stabilize him first. We switch Irene out. She... She can't hold on much longer."

As he talked, he dragged me toward the kidnapper.

"No—Shane, don't! Please! I don't want to die! I really don't want to die!"

My voice cracked into sobs as I struggled.

Shane said nothing.

A few steps away, he finally spoke. "On three. We switch."

The kidnapper nodded.

Shane shoved me forward, his hand firm against my back.

"Three! Two! One!"

In a split second, he shoved me forward.

Irene screamed and fell into Shane's arms. A sweaty hand that stank like cheap tobacco clamped onto mine.

Cold steel pressed to my neck.

The blade nicked my skin, a thin, icy line of blood.

Shane just lowered his head, soothing Irene. "It's okay. Irene, don't be scared. I'm here."

He never looked back.

Irene glanced at the blood on my neck, brows lifting in triumph, then clung tighter to him.

"Shane, I'm so scared. It's filthy here. Can you take me away first?"

Shane scooped her up.

The kidnapper roared, "No one leaves! You think you can just walk away? Call her rich mom. Ten million in cash in thirty minutes—or I kill her!"

Before he even finished, Irene grabbed Shane's arm, voice shaking. "Shane, let's go. I'm too scared to stay. He's bluffing. He won't kill her—if he does, he gets nothing!"

The kidnapper snapped. The knife dug deeper into my neck. "You think I'm scared? Try it! I said I'll kill her! Make the call!"

The cut split open. Blood ran down the blade, dripping to the ground.

Shane looked at me—my face drained from blood loss. His eyes wavered.

Irene caught it.

Right on cue, she whimpered, then went limp.

"Irene!" Shane pulled her close. The hesitation vanished.

He clenched his jaw, decision made.

Holding her, he forced out, "Lana, I'm sor—"

Bang!

A shot cracked through the air.

The bullet punched through the kidnapper's forehead. The knife hit the ground.

A body dropped behind me. The grip on my arm was gone.

I stood there, frozen. Forgot how to breathe.

Across from me, Shane looked just as stunned. Even Irene—supposedly out—jerked awake in his arms.

Seconds later, SWAT stormed up from the first floor.

My mom was with them.

She rushed over and pulled me in. "Medics! My daughter's neck is injured! Stop the bleeding!"

Only then did it click—the messages I sent from the car.

The cut wasn't deep. A few wraps stopped the bleeding.

Once they cleared me, I pulled away from my mom.

I walked straight to Shane.

He opened his mouth, eyes flicking, like he wanted to explain.

"Lana, I—"

Slap!

I didn't let him finish. My hand cracked across his face.

His head snapped to the side. He just stared.

I raised my hand again.

Slap!

The second hit knocked him off balance. He went down.

When I went in for another hit, the officers and medics finally snapped out of it and pulled us apart.

My mom stepped in. "Lana, your neck's still injured. Don't push it. Come to the hospital for a full check. The PD heads are on their way. We'll get answers."

I closed my eyes, forcing it all down, and left with her.

Later, I heard what happened after we left—Robert Lambert, the chief of Halcyon PD, saw Shane, pointed straight at him, and snapped.

"Forcing a hostage swap? This is a disgrace! Shane Terrell, you're suspended pending investigation!"