Chapter 1: Ruthless
When Claire Prescott walked out of prison, she was wearing the same white dress from four years ago. The cold winter wind howled, whipping around her skinny body. Harrison Prescott almost didn’t recognize her when he first saw her. The once stuck-up princess of the Prescott family now stood at the door, head down, shyly thanking the prison guard.
“You’re finally out,” a familiar, cold voice cut through the air right after Claire mumbled her thanks. Years of deep love rushed back, and Claire couldn’t help but look up at the man who seemed almost godlike. Frederick Hawthorne stood there in his dark green army uniform, tall as ever. Under his hat was a face so handsome it could stop time. His sharp features and deep, piercing eyes sparkled in the winter sun. The general’s badges on his shoulders gleamed brightly.
She thought, “So, he’s a general now?”
“Fred, I’m sorry we had to let Claire out. Grandma’s got late-stage stomach cancer and she won’t have surgery unless Claire’s released,” Harrison said, meaning every word.
“I get it. Claire, don’t think you’re off the hook just ‘cause you’re out. It’ll be easier to make you pay now. You’ll wish you were dead,” Fred said, his voice scary and threatening.
All of a sudden, Claire felt that old fear come back, making her head spin. She almost fell over as memories from before came rushing back. When she came to her senses, Fred was already in the car. She pushed down her feelings and walked wobbly towards Harrison, her cold lips shaking.
“Harrison…” Out of habit, she called out her brother’s name, only to realize her grave mistake.
“Claire, allowing you to keep the Prescott surname is already a great mercy. You’d better remember your place!” Harrison’s voice was colder and more detached than Frederick’s, and the hatred in his eyes had only deepened since four years ago.
“Okay, Mr. Prescott,” she said, her heart shaking as she looked down, sounding so humble she almost disappeared.
Once in the car, she nervously felt the soft leather seat, scared it might all be a dream. If the dream ended, she was afraid she’d be sent back to that awful, mean place. She lifted her rough, scarred hand and wiped the window, looking hard at the view outside.
For four years, she’d been dreaming of this day. She knew the only reason she got out was because of Elizabeth Prescott, the old lady boss of the Prescott family. If it wasn’t for Elizabeth’s stomach cancer and her begging, Claire would never have left that prison alive.
The two guys in the car: one her brother for twenty years, the other the man she’d loved for sixteen. But not anymore. Four years ago, the story of a real and fake rich girl rocked Kingstown. And she was the fake one. Her mom’s selfish move got her swapped with Anna. Claire ended up the stuck-up Prescott princess, while Anna became some gambler’s daughter. Then Anna’s brother died saving Frederick, so he took Anna in, treating her like his own little sister. Then the truth came out—Anna was the real girl. But the very next night, Anna got jumped by some punks in an alley and died.
With nothing but a text from Anna saying she was at Redsun Bar, Harrison and Frederick had her locked up. Frederick called her guilty himself. Harrison personally made sure she got put away.