Chapter 1

I loved Preston Hayes with an obsession so toxic that I forced him down the aisle.

At our wedding, the officiant asked him to say those three little words.

He spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing across the ballroom. "I love you, Rose Mercer."

The laughter in the room died instantly. My name is Jasmine Mercer.

I always knew he was in love with my half-sister, Rose, but I had convinced myself I did not care.

Then, right in the middle of our reception, Rose had a medical emergency and lost her baby. It was Preston's child.

Months later, Preston fell to his knees, gripping the hem of my pants and begging me not to leave the country.

I kicked him away without a second thought.

1

Everyone in the ballroom watched me with held breath.

I slowly curled my lips into a faint smile.

Deep down, I knew this was my karma.

The moment I used my family's power to run Rose out of the country, I should have known this day would come.

I gathered the heavy train of my designer gown and walked toward Preston.

"Who did you say you love?" I asked softly.

His knuckles turned white, his expression tight with nervous panic. "I... I said I love you, Jasmine."

I extended my left hand toward him, smiling sweetly. "Then put the ring on my finger, darling."

A collective sigh of relief washed over the room. Preston let out a shaky breath of his own.

The reception resumed as planned, the guests mingling and drinking as if the humiliation had never happened.

I looped my arm through Preston's as we greeted our guests, but his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance.

"What are you looking at, sweetheart?" I asked, following his line of sight.

Standing by the grand double doors was Rose, wearing an innocent white dress.

She walked straight up to Preston, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I am pregnant. Two months along."

Two months.

That was right before she boarded her flight to London.

Preston stared at her in utter shock, while his mother swayed and had to be caught by a bridesmaid.

Everyone in this high-society crowd knew two golden rules: do not cross the Mercer family, and do not cross me.

I was bipolar, prone to violent rages, and the sole heir to the Mercer empire.

Preston's father stepped forward and delivered a vicious slap across his son's face.

My father hurried over as well, glaring at Rose with frustration. "Did I not tell you to stay in London? Why the hell did you come back?!"

I stared at Preston, feeling a cold numbness spread through my chest. "You slept with her before she left?"

"No, I did not," Preston choked out.

Before he could finish, Rose snatched the champagne flute from my hand and threw the liquid directly into my face.

She swept her arm across the head table, sending crystal and plates crashing onto the marble floor.

"Go on, Jasmine!" Rose screamed, her face twisted with venom. "Throw your little tantrum! Show everyone the crazy monster you are!"

I stood completely still, wine dripping down my cheeks.

Preston and my father rushed forward at the same time, but they did not come to protect me.

They threw themselves in front of Rose, shielding her as they pleaded with me. "Jasmine... please do not lose your temper. She did not mean it."

She just threw a drink in my face and wrecked my wedding, and they claimed she did not mean it?

My father had married into my mother's wealthy family, bringing along a daughter who was one year older than me.

I still remembered the day Rose first arrived at our penthouse in Manhattan.

She had wrapped her arms around my father's neck, sobbing that she refused to change her last name to Mercer.

My father had held her gently, whispering, "Be a good girl, Rose. When you grow up, it will not hurt anymore."

I had watched from the shadow of the hallway as Rose rested her chin on his shoulder, giving me a smug, triumphant smirk.

That night, I curled up on the cold floor of the hallway and fell asleep alone.

My mother, a ruthless corporate CEO, found out the next morning.

She slapped my father across the face and pointed a manicured finger at him.

"I let you bring your daughter into this house, gave her my family name, and provided her with luxury," my mother snapped. "Silas, if you ever favor her over Jasmine again, I will ruin you."

Rose had cried pitifully in the corner.

I had tried to tell my mother that I did not mind, but she refused to listen.

We got into a massive screaming match, and I smashed every vase in sight.

My mother yelled at me, "Jasmine! What more could you possibly want?!"

I lay on the dark bedroom floor for hours, unable to answer her.

What else did I want?

That was the very day Preston Hayes first entered my life.

His father brought him to our estate with expensive gifts, eager to secure our investment.

Rose inherited her mother's breathtaking beauty.

I only inherited my mother's stern, sharp features.