Shameless, My Sister Stole My Father and My Boyfriend

I am a professional race car driver. Unfortunately. On my twenty-fifth birthday, a horrific crash nearly claimed my life. And all because I went behind everyone's back, secretly entering a high-stakes illegal street race to win a cash prize for my boyfriend—who had recently declared bankruptcy.

Based on my years of racing experience, I was confident I could take first place. The prize? Three million dollars. More than enough to help him get back on his feet and recover from his financial disaster. But I never expected what happened on the final turn of the last lap.

As I sped toward the finish line, something on the massive LED screen of the luxury hotel perched atop a nearby hill caught my eye. A marriage proposal video. My boyfriend was in it. And he wasn’t proposing to me.

My sister had orchestrated an extravagant display—hundreds of drones painting vibrant fireworks across the daytime sky—to propose to him.

I had risked my life for him, but he was up there, basking in my sister’s love.

For a split second, my grip on the steering wheel faltered. My heart, my mind, my very soul shattered. And in that moment of distraction, my car skidded off the track and hurtled off the cliff’s edge.

As I plummeted, everything made sense. The whispers in his sleep, the soft name he always murmured—Quinn. I had believed he was calling for me. But in truth, he had been dreaming of her all along.

And the bankruptcy? It was a lie. A carefully crafted deception to push me away. Now Luke Mason, you got what you wanted—I’m gone. So why won’t you let me go?

——

The impact was devastating. It felt as though my organs had rearranged themselves. My bones screamed in protest. Pain, excruciating and unrelenting, engulfed me. But none of it compared to the agony that twisted my heart when I saw that proposal video.

Blood soaked my racing suit. My calf bone had shattered, its jagged edge piercing through my skin. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to endure. With sheer willpower, I yanked the broken piece free, the fresh wave of pain nearly knocking me unconscious.

Behind me, flames roared, devouring what was left of my car. Fingers trembling, nails torn and bloodied, I clawed my way out of the wreckage. Then, everything went dark.

***

Memories flickered through my mind like scenes from a cruel movie. The dazzling display of fireworks. Luke’s gentle smile. My sister’s tearful joy. And that name—Quinn. My surname. But not meant for me.

I had been nothing but a stand-in. A poor imitation of the woman he truly loved. I had risked everything for him—entered a deadly race, put my life on the line—all while he stood atop that hill, proposing to someone else in the grandest way possible. I was nothing to him.

I don’t know how long I lay there. Maybe hours. Maybe days. But eventually, I forced myself to move. Limping. Crawling. Using every ounce of strength I had left. For half a month, I struggled to make my way back home.