Chapter 2

After all these years, I had zero desire to pretend to be friendly.

I stood up and gestured coldly toward the sofa across the room.

"Mrs. Sterling, have a seat. What brings you here?"

Elena acted as if she couldn't hear the frost in my voice. She sank gracefully into the leather cushions and chatted away like an old friend.

"Can't I just drop by to see my mentor? I thought I caught a glimpse of your silhouette near the shopping district yesterday. I wasn't sure, but I figured you might be back in town. I made a few inquiries this morning, and here you are!"

"Claire, why didn't you tell me you were returning to the States?"

Faced with her saccharine display of affection, I answered flatly.

"I just launched my studio. Things are hectic. I've been busy."

Elena glanced around the room, her nose wrinkling slightly in distaste.

"Isn't this place a little cramped? How can you work here?"

"I own a massive vacant retail space right on Fifth Avenue. You should move your studio there. Don't worry about rent or utilities—I'll cover everything. You just focus on your designs."

Before I could open my mouth to decline, she leaned forward and grabbed my hand with sudden intensity.

"Claire, please. Just let me repay you."

"If you hadn't paid for my education back then, I never would have entered this world or met Julian. When your family went bankrupt, I wasn't able to help, and I've felt guilty ever since. I know... I know you're still bitter about Julian choosing me. But it's been five whole years..."

"I hope you can let it go. Give us a chance to start over."

I looked at the earnest plea in her eyes and felt nothing but disgust.

I pulled my hand back cleanly, my tone arctic.

"No, thank you. I like this space. I have no intention of moving."

The smile on Elena's face flickered.

Then, as if remembering her real purpose, she pulled a sleek black Amex Centurion card from her designer handbag and tossed it onto the coffee table. She gently rested a manicured hand over her lower belly, a smug, radiant glow returning to her face.

"Look at me, Claire! Catching up made me forget my real reason for coming."

"I'm pregnant."

"Julian is completely overprotective right now. He insists I throw out all my old clothes and get an entirely new maternity wardrobe custom-made. You're a designer, right? Take my measurements and design a few full sets for me, head to toe. Consider it my way of throwing some business your way."

I stared at Julian's authorized card sitting on the table, feeling a cold knot form in my chest.

This time, my refusal wasn't out of spite. It was simply the truth.

"Mrs. Sterling, my bespoke calendar is fully booked for the next three years."

"I can't take your order."

The room fell dead silent.

Rejection after rejection finally shattered Elena's fragile facade of an upper-class lady.

She snatched the black card off the table and shoved it back into her purse.

When she looked up again, her mask of sweet gentility was gone, replaced by pure venom.

"Claire Vance, you really don't know your place anymore, do you? You aren't the wealthy Vance heiress anymore! I remembered your past charity and came here out of the goodness of my heart to help you out, and you put on airs with me?"

She narrowed her eyes, a sharp, ugly gleam cutting through her gaze.

"Or did you come back to this city just to steal Julian back from me?"

I had no idea how this kept circling back to Julian. I opened my mouth to set the record straight, but she cut me off shrilly.

"Don't even dream about it! I'm carrying his heir."

"Julian chose me over you five years ago. And that's how it's going to be for the rest of your life!"

Grabbing her purse, Elena spun around and stormed toward the door, nearly knocking over Mia, who was just walking in with two cups of coffee.

Mia had worked with me in Europe for years and knew my past.

She watched the door slam shut and muttered under her breath, "She stole her benefactor’s fiancé and now has the nerve to act like she owns the place? No wonder you never forgave her, Claire!"

I stared at the empty doorway and let out a long, heavy breath.

"Mia, you don't understand."

"I never hated her because of Julian."

Mia blinked, looking thoroughly confused.

I didn't explain. I just offered a bitter smile, my mind drifting back to the shy, shivering girl who had once stood before me in that mountain classroom.

Back then, I had asked her, "Give me one good reason why I should sponsor you."

She had lifted her chin, her eyes burning with pure, stubborn grit.

"Because... because I want to get my teaching degree. I want to come back here and teach the other little girls in this valley. I want to show them that we can build our own lives, that we don't have to drop out at sixteen just to marry a drunk and pop out babies!"

In that moment, her eyes had shone like stars.

The person I despised was the shallow, glittering "Mrs. Sterling" standing before me today.

Not the brave little girl named Daisy who had sworn to change the fate of her hometown.