"Emma, I'll be back in four days. You know what to do."

"And about studying abroad—you'll receive the admission results tonight."

Staring at the message on her phone, Emma Knapp felt dazed.

With trembling fingers, she typed a simple reply: "OK."

Almost instantly, another message popped up. "Remember your promise. Stay away from Mike and Jeff."

——

She didn't respond. The phone screen dimmed, but she remained motionless.

After a long silence, she scrolled back through their earlier conversations, stopping at the first money transfer—$180,000.

The price for pretending to be someone else for a month.

Now, Emilly Knapp is coming back.

And everything was about to end.

She absentmindedly grabbed a bottle of milk, sipping it as she leaned against the balcony railing. Her thoughts drifted back five years.

Back then, Emma had nothing.

A DNA test changed everything—it proved she was the real daughter of the Knapp family, the one who had been lost and raised elsewhere. The day she stepped into the Knapp family’s home was the same day Emilly was forced out.

Not long after, the Knapp family went bankrupt, leaving Emma buried in debt.

Until Emilly returned.

The Knapp, Ray, and Grey families had been close for years. Their daughters grew up together, inseparable. And he—Mike Ray—had admired her for as long as she could remember.

But Emilly wanted a different life. She had dreams of studying abroad, chasing a career.

Yet he couldn't bear to let go of the two girls who had shaped his childhood.

So, he found a way to keep them both. He paid Emma 200,000 a month to take Emilly’s place, ensuring that neither Mike nor Jeff Grey would ever forget her.

But once abroad, Emilly realized the world wasn’t what she had imagined.

And now that she was back, it meant only one thing—Emma had to leave.

She was lost in thought when a deep, groggy voice startled her.

"Who are you texting?"

Emma flinched, hurriedly locking her phone.

Mike and Jeff had returned, carrying shopping bags.

"No one," she said, forcing calm as she tucked the phone away.

But their sharp gazes lingered.

In unison, they asked, "What's that smell? Did you just drink milk?"

The scent clung to her, unmistakable.

Their expressions darkened.

"I..."

Before she could explain, Mike cut her off, his voice laced with irritation. "Emilly never drinks milk. Do it again, and you're out."

The coldness of his words pierced her.

With a wry smile, she simply nodded.

A moment later, they led her to the living room.

The sofa was buried under shopping bags, and on the dining table sat a lavish six-tiered cake.

Jeff nudged her toward a seat, then eagerly pulled Mike beside him. "Come on, let’s sing!"

The room buzzed with excitement. It should have been a happy moment.

But Emma felt nothing.

Her gaze landed on the cake.

"Happy Birthday, Emilly."

Not her.

Still, she forced a smile and picked up the knife.

She took a bite.

And immediately spat it out.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Her sudden movement sent the candles toppling over, their flames flickering against the icing. The air filled with the sharp scent of burnt sugar.

Mike’s face twisted in anger.

"I'm allergic to peanuts."

The cake was covered in Emilly’s favorite peanut butter.

For Emma, it was poison.

She had learned that the hard way, as a child—one accidental bite, and her body had broken out in painful welts, her throat closing up. She had nearly died.

"Hold on!"

Panic replaced anger as Mike and Jeff scrambled for anti-allergy medication.

After swallowing the pill, the red spots on Emma's face gradually faded.

Seeing the worry on their faces, her heart softened.

Do they still care about me? Does this mean I still have a place in their hearts?

After all, I’ve been with them for five years.

Emma suddenly remembered what Emilly had told her before—if the two of them ever fell in love with her, she would be given a chance to stay.

She wasn’t made of stone. Over the years, their occasional kindness had tempted her, and made her wonder if she could belong here.

The thought lingered, and before she could stop herself, she asked, "Mike, Jeff, after all this time… have you ever fallen for me? Even for just a moment?"

She wasn’t hoping to be their priority, just to have a small place in their hearts.

But the warmth in their expressions vanished the moment the words left her lips.

Mike scoffed, casually tossing the anti-allergy medicine onto the ground. His voice was filled with cold determination.

"Emma, have you forgotten? You're just a stand-in."

"Love you? Are we crazy?" His eyes darkened with disdain. "What makes you think you could ever compare to Emilly?"

As if driving the point home, he grabbed her wrist, pressing down on the fading red spot, his grip firm and unyielding. "Don't get ideas above your station."

Then, without hesitation, they turned and left.

Leaving Emma standing there, frozen.

After a long silence, she let out a bitter laugh.

Of course. She had been foolish.

How could she have expected them to love her?

With trembling fingers, she sent a message to Emilly.

The reply came almost instantly, as if Emilly had been expecting it.

"I’ll be in Boston in four days. I’ll transfer the final payment then. Take the money and never come back."

Four more days.

Then, her five-year role as a stand-in would finally come to an end.

She would leave this city filled with memories behind.

The next day, perhaps due to the allergy, Emma developed a high fever.

She drifted in and out of consciousness.

By the time the nanny woke her, her vision was so blurred she could barely make out faces.

"Miss Knapp, the gentlemen have requested a massage."

Emma wanted to refuse. But the nanny, close to tears, kept pleading.

Not wanting to cause trouble, she forced herself up despite the dizziness.

When she stepped into the courtyard, Mike and Jeff were already lounging on the recliners, waiting for her.

Emma's adoptive mother had been a farmer, constantly suffering from exhaustion. Out of necessity, Emma had learned how to give massages to ease her pain.

One day, she massaged Mike and Jeff on a whim.

Since then, it had become an unspoken rule—she had to continue.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped on her gloves and began.

Her technique hadn’t changed, but her hands trembled. Her eyes, bloodshot from the fever, struggled to focus.

She felt herself weakening with each passing second.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she licked her dry lips and whispered, "Can we stop here for today? I’m not feeling well."

She feared that if she stayed any longer, she would collapse in front of them.

But the moment the words left her lips, their expressions hardened.

"Emma, what do you mean by that?"

Mike’s narrowed eyes were a clear warning—he was on the verge of anger.

Emma had always been obedient. This was the first time she had ever defied them.

But she couldn’t hold on any longer.

Her body swayed, and she leaned against the wall for support, bending slightly as her strength gave out.

Mike and Jeff, however, didn’t believe her.

Jeff’s voice was laced with cold impatience.

"Drop the act."

"Just because we told you we don’t love you yesterday, you’re throwing a tantrum today?" He scoffed. "The gifts I bought for you are in the living room. Stop pretending."

"I… I’m not feeling well today. I feel terrible."

Emma was drenched in sweat, struggling to explain herself.

But neither of them listened.

Especially Mike—his temper had always been volatile.

Seeing her act so defiant, he snapped, "Emma, don’t push your luck. What’s so special about a stand-in like you? Have we spoiled you too much these past few years? Is that why you think you can act this way?"

"We don’t love you—let’s be clear on that. What makes you think you even deserve our love?"

Emma was already weak, her body barely holding up.

She hadn’t expected that just trying to explain herself would anger them this much.

"I’ll take you to pick it out in person tomorrow, alright? Stop acting entitled. You really think you’re something special?"

Mike didn’t wait for a response. He had already made up his mind.

Mike always kept his word, so early the next morning, he dragged Emma to a high-end boutique.

Luxury designer clothes filled the store, but Mike and Jeff didn’t bother asking Emma what she liked.

They simply ordered the sales staff to bring out all the latest collections.

Without hesitation, they swiped their cards, clearing out entire racks within minutes.

Just then, a salesgirl approached them with a respectful smile.

"Gentlemen, the exclusive designer S gown you pre-ordered has just arrived. Would you like to see it now?"

The moment they heard this, Mike and Jeff straightened up.

"Bring it out."

Several salesgirls carefully wheeled out a covered rack, the white silk cloth draped over it, making it clear just how valuable the item inside was.

When they pulled back the cloth, a dazzling white diamond dress was revealed.

It was crafted from rare, custom-made silk—one of the most expensive fabrics in the world.

Emma had only ever seen dresses like this in the news, ordered by heiresses for their loved ones.

Now, it was obvious—Mike and Jeff had ordered it.

And the "loved one" could only be Emilly.

Just as the two men leaned in to examine the suit details, a sudden commotion broke out at the entrance.

All heads turned to see a group of tattooed men swaggering in.

The man leading them stepped forward and ran his hands over the dress without care.

"How much for this one? I’ll take it."

The moment Emma saw his face, her blood ran cold.

Quinn Payton.

The Knapp family's biggest creditor.

The second she recognized him, a sense of dread sank into her stomach.

This man wasn’t here to buy a dress.

Before the Knapp family went bankrupt, they had ruined several of the Payton family’s major business deals. Quinn had never let it go. He had tried to settle the score with Emma countless times, but each time, Mike and Jeff intervened.

And now, he was here.

It definitely wasn’t just about this dress.

The instant Quinn laid a hand on the gown, Mike and Jeff’s faces darkened.

Without hesitation, Mike smacked his hand away and warned coldly, "What, Master Payton? Do you want to lose another finger?"

At those words, Quinn’s expression twisted.

The last time he had come looking for Emma, Mike’s bodyguards had broken one of his fingers. He had spent over a month in the hospital recovering.

He had never forgotten.

And now, were these two daring to stand against him again?

Quinn clenched his fists tightly, but his lips curled into a smirk.

"Oh? So you two can buy it, but I can’t?"

"I happen to like this dress today. I think I’ll take it with me."

Despite his gangster-like attitude, Quinn’s family had deep connections. Taking something from him wouldn’t be so easy.