chapter 5

I secured a rental apartment.

They’d left me penniless, even tossing out my belongings.

But it mattered not—once my heart returned, I could fend for myself.

I pressed a hand to my chest, where the heartbeat thrummed heavy and erratic, each breath carrying a faint, stabbing ache.

Endless treatments, exorbitant costs, and even the slightest emotional turmoil could trigger fainting spells.

I couldn’t run or jump, doomed to be a hothouse flower for life—a fate that should have been Seraphina’s.

I owed them nothing.

Let her savor these last days of health.

...

Three days after their departure, Chase proposed to Seraphina.

An influencer livestreamed the event and sent me the link—no doubt Seraphina’s doing, wanting me to see their lives improving without me, painting me as the family curse.

Such petty games meant nothing.

On a sun-drenched beach, a handsome man knelt with a ring, gazing adoringly at the girl before him.

The idyllic scene drew cheers from the crowd.

“Seraphina, will you marry me?”

Chase’s eyes held nothing but Seraphina.

I'd been deceived for three years before finally witnessing what true affection looks like in someone's eyes.

Seraphina giggled, cheeks flushed, as he slipped the ring on her finger.

“From now on, you’re mine, Seraphina. I’m overjoyed.”

From the sidelines, parents wept while applauding wildly for Seraphina, their palms raw from the force of their pride.

Without me, they were the perfect family, free from my “ruin.”

Chase led Seraphina onto a yacht.

A reporter asked, “Mr. Morrison, we heard you once had a fiancée—Miss Bennett’s sister?”

His expression didn’t flicker.

“True. But our family would never accept a promiscuous, sickly woman as Mrs. Morrison. I’ve always loved Seraphina.”

Seraphina blushed, playfully tapping him, then chirped to the reporter, “My sister didn’t cherish Chase, so I’ll take care of him for her. Now, let’s go in—the banquet awaits.”

I saw the malice in her eyes, but it mattered not. Soon, all would revert.

As Seraphina stepped onto the deck, a cold electronic voice echoed in my mind.

“Detection: distance between host and contractee Seraphina exceeds threshold. Contract terminated.”

A warm surge flooded my chest. Trembling, I pressed my hand to my heart—beating slow, strong, pain gone.

My heart had returned!

I popped a champagne bottle, swallowing tears with the bubbles.

In the live feed, Seraphina had barely emerged onto the deck when a dreaded familiar palpitation seized her.

Her complexion draining to parchment, she fisted at her chest, nails digging into silk.

Chase chattered on obliviously, "When we tie the knot, I'll give Seraphina shares of my—"

"Miss Bennett!"

Amidst the reporters' gasps, Seraphina tumbled off the deck.

Chase immediately dived into the sea to rescue her, and chaos erupted on the yacht.

I laughed, raising a toast to the screen.

What a farce.

Originally, Seraphina's heart wasn't so fragile—when she first fell ill, our parents spared no expense, sending her to the best hospitals and spending hundreds of thousands monthly on treatments to nurture it.

But after the heart transplant, they likely thought I'd be dragged down by this heart soon enough, so they casually chose a mediocre hospital. What's worse, this month they refused to cover my medical fees, forcing me to delay my hospital visit for days as I scraped together money.

Coupled with Seraphina and Chase's joint humiliation, my heart—under this double blow—has been faltering.

And when Chase promised her shares, the extreme emotional swing of grief and joy overloaded my heart, causing Seraphina to collapse into shock and fall into the sea.

Karma at play.

A week after the proposal, my mother called for the first time, launching into curses.

“Raina, you wretched curse! When will you leave Seraphina alone? She’s in a coma, and you haven’t visited or even asked after her! You’re a waste of our efforts!”