Chapter 1

My supposed death was three years ago.

Today, my ex-fiancé, Liam Miller, the man who orchestrated it all, returned to the United States.

I watched from a place of non-existence as his private jet touched down. I' m a ghost, you see. A spirit tethered to him, a permanent, invisible audience to his life. It' s my own personal hell, and soon, it will be his.

He walked down the jet' s stairs, looking as handsome and untouchable as ever in his tailored suit. Beside him, clinging to his arm, was Chloe Davis. His "childhood sweetheart." The woman he was returning to marry.

She looked frail, her face pale, a practiced vulnerability in her eyes that had fooled everyone for years. It never fooled me.

"Liam, darling," Chloe' s voice was a soft whisper as they settled into the back of a black sedan. "Now that we' re back, can we finally deal with the... Ava situation?"

Liam' s jaw tightened. He stared out the window. "What about it?"

"Her kidney," Chloe said, her voice turning petulant. "Dr. Evans said it' s a perfect match. I need it. My health is getting worse."

I floated in the car with them, a silent, seething passenger. A kidney. Of course. That' s all I ever was to them. A collection of rare and useful parts. O-negative blood. A compatible kidney. A healthy womb.

I was a walking, breathing resource for the wealthy and powerful Miller family.

The first time they took something from me, it started with a phone call. I was in my small apartment, sketching, feeling the happy buzz of my new engagement to Liam. His older sister, Sarah, was on the line, her voice frantic.

"Ava, it' s Leo. He' s sick again. The hospital is low on O-negative. Can you come? Please, we need you."

Leo was her son, a sweet boy with a chronic illness. My heart went out to him. "Of course, Sarah. I' m on my way."

I didn' t hesitate. I rushed to the hospital they owned, let them draw my blood, and felt a quiet pride in helping the family that would soon be my own.

I felt dizzy afterward, sitting on the sterile bed in the private room. A nurse left a glass of juice and a cookie on the table and then hurried out. No one stayed. No one said thank you.

An hour later, the door opened. It was Liam. My heart jumped, thinking he' d come to check on me, to hold my hand and tell me I was a hero.

He didn' t even look at me. He looked at the bag of my blood a nurse was holding.

He spoke to her, his voice clipped and cold. "Is this it? Is it enough?"

The nurse nodded. "Yes, Mr. Miller."

He gave a curt nod, then finally glanced at me. There was no warmth in his eyes, only impatience. "I' ll have my driver take you home." It wasn' t an offer. It was a dismissal.

My heart sank. The warm glow I' d felt vanished, replaced by a cold, hollow feeling. This man, my fiancé, looked at me like I was a transaction he had just completed.

I stared at him, at the handsome face I thought I loved, and a flicker of doubt, small and unwelcome, sparked within me. I told myself I was being sensitive. I told myself he was just stressed about his nephew.

I was a fool. An idiot. A naive girl who thought a prince had fallen for her.

The truth was, our entire relationship was a lie, a carefully constructed trap. Sarah hadn' t just introduced us at a charity gala; she had targeted me. She ran my background, found my rare blood type, and served me up to her ambitious brother on a silver platter.

And Liam, he played his part perfectly.