Chapter 1

Austin's POV

On the third day after Edward Duncan moved into the Prescott residence, he slit his wrist.

The cut was so shallow it was barely a scratch, drawing only a few drops of blood. But it was enough to make the usually calm Clara Prescott lose control.

She canceled international meetings worth millions of dollars and stayed by Edward's bed day and night. On his birthday, she rented every digital billboard downtown just to display a single message.

"Ed, wishing you all the best, today and always."

My best friend was livid and told me I was the most pathetic husband he had ever seen.

I said nothing, but I couldn't accept it either. I refused to believe that all those years we had spent together had meant nothing to her.

With tears in my eyes, I demanded an explanation.

Clara cupped my cheek, her voice as gentle as ever as she replied, "You've always been the sensible one, Austin. Edward has nothing now."

The transplanted heart in my chest tightened painfully, and I let out a bitter laugh.

Wasn't Clara the reason Edward lost the Cooper family? Why was I the one expected to compromise and make up for it?

"But Edward doesn't love you," I said. "You destroyed his family, so he's supposed to hate you."

Clara fell silent for a beat before replying hoarsely, "I don't have romantic feelings for him. He's your brother, Austin. I only care about him because he's your family."

As I thought about the billboards she had rented for Edward and the nights she had spent watching over him, my heart ached painfully. The two of them had crossed a line long ago.

Forcing a smile, I said, "He's not my brother, Clara. He's the housekeeper's son. The man who stole 20 years of my life and my parents' love."

Clara's expression instantly darkened. "Austin Duncan! Since when did you become so petty and jealous? Edward's a victim, too. He didn't know. I promised to protect you, and I won't go back on my word.

"You're my husband. What more could you possibly want? Edward's dying. Do you really have to pick a fight with him right now?"

I nearly laughed.

How on earth was Edward a victim? He had grown up in luxury, enjoyed the best of everything, and still wasn't satisfied. He wanted people around me to turn against me, too.

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I looked at Clara. "Am I not an innocent victim, too? Edward stole my life, and now he's trying to take my wife as well."

Growing visibly impatient, she snapped, "I told you. He's your brother. I'll never give anyone else your place as my husband."

I was about to respond when I noticed Edward standing in the corner. There was no telling how long he had been listening, but I caught the brief flash of jealousy and resentment in his eyes.

Smiling wryly, I looked down and wondered… How could I have forgotten?

Edward had always known how to put on an act. Back when we lived with the Duncans, I was always the one taking the blame whenever he played the victim, and now with Clara, nothing had changed.

When Edward walked away, Clara seemed to notice the sound of his feet shuffling and immediately rushed after him, throwing a hurried remark over her shoulder.

"You're the only man I'll ever call my husband, Austin. Stop taking it out on Edward."

I let out a dry laugh. Clara had no idea that the transplanted heart in my chest was beginning to fail. I wouldn't be her husband for much longer.