Escaping the Empire

The day my fiancé got engaged to the real heiress, I wanted to slam my foot on the gas and crash through the venue doors, ending it all for the three of us.

Just as the madness peaked, my phone buzzed against the center console. I picked it up. It was the hospital. "Waverly, you're pregnant." I twisted the key. The engine died.

The air in the car suddenly felt too thin to breathe. Half an hour passed. Upbeat music leaked from the venue's heavy doors.

I restarted the engine, cranked the wheel hard, and drove straight to the airport. Just like everyone wanted, the imposter daughter vanished from New York without a trace.

I flew across the country to Seattle. I survived a delivery that nearly killed me, and I brought my daughter into the world. My own flesh and blood. I severed every tie.

Until four years later. One by one, the ghosts from my past started showing up at my door. Chapter 1 Four years.

That's how long it took for Knox to appear in my life again, standing right outside my daughter's preschool. I grabbed Willow's hand.

Another mom bumped my shoulder. "Willow's mom, look at that guy across the street. He looks exactly like that famous singer… what's his name…" I followed her pointing finger.

I saw him. "Knox!" The mom smacked her forehead. "Right, Knox!" I pulled my gaze away. "Don't know him." Her eyes went wide. "Do you live under a rock? Knox!

The biggest singersongwriter right now! He's won a ton of awards. Honestly, look at his face. He actually looks a little like you.

Both of you have those crazy good genes…" I forced a smile, shook my head, and tightened my grip on Willow's hand, pulling her down the sidewalk. "Waverly." His voice hit my back.

I didn't miss a beat. Kept walking. "Waverly!" Willow looked up. "Mommy, is that man calling you?

Why did he call you Waverly?" I shook my head, keeping my smile steady. "He's got the wrong person, sweetie." We made it to the parking lot.

Just as my fingers hooked around the car door handle, a hand clamped down on my arm. I turned.

Knox stood there, his chest heaving. "Waverly, you… you're actually still alive?!" The venom in his words hadn't changed a bit.

Maybe he ran too fast, but his eyes were rimmed with red. I dropped Willow off at my neighbor's place.

When I came back downstairs, Knox had his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Why the hell are you living in this dump?" He looked at the peeling paint. "Which one is your unit?

I'm going up to look." I shook my head. "No need for that." Four years ago, he looked me dead in the eye and said his only sister was Camilla.

He said the thought of sharing blood with a fake like me made him physically sick. When Harrison kicked me out of his house, when Brooks threw me away like trash, I hit rock bottom.

I actually thought about going to my biological brother for help. I stood outside his record label all night in a blizzard. I couldn't feel my fingers or toes.

And when he finally came out, he just told me his biggest wish was that I never existed. "If you were never born, Camilla wouldn't have been switched at birth.

She wouldn't have suffered so much. Sister? What a joke. The rich family tossed you out, so now you're using DNA to leech off me?

I'll never call a piece of trash like you my sister." That was the moment it clicked. No matter what I did, he would always hate me because of Camilla.

Right now, he was still looking at me with that same judgmental glare, his eyebrows pulled tight. "That kid. She's Brooks', isn't she?

You ran away just to have his baby?" I let the silence stretch for a second. "She's my kid. Mine alone." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Waverly, the kid is a carbon copy of him.

Do you think I'm blind? Don't tell me you thought secretly having his baby would win him back? Are you out of your mind? It's pathetic.

You're a fool…" "I said, she is my child." I cut him off. "I never planned on going back to New York. I never planned on using a baby to steal Brooks away from your precious sister.

You can relax. You don't need to bark at me." I took a step back. "You said it yourself years ago. Besides sharing DNA, we are strangers.

I don't give a damn about your life now, so keep your nose out of mine." He froze. "If we're done here, leave." I turned my back on him. "Wait." His hand clamped on my wrist again.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. "You… you…" I frowned. "What?" "Why… why did you actually leave back then?" I just stared at him.

Cold and quiet. "You were a spoiled brat who didn't know how to do anything. So people talked a little trash about you. Was that a reason to pull a runawaypregnantbride stunt?

If I hadn't bumped into you, how long were you planning on living in this hellhole?

And… these past four years…" He swallowed hard. "How… how did you even survive?" Chapter 2 I watched the flush creep back into the corners of his eyes.

Probably from sheer irritation. He was completely blindsided that I was still breathing. And my breathing meant a direct threat to Camilla’s perfect little life. How did I survive?

Someone traded their life for mine. But I wasn't about to hand him that piece of my soul. The old Waverly was a hothouse orchid who had never lifted a finger in her life.

The woman standing before him now had long forgotten how to cry for a savior. He ground his teeth when I didn't answer. "Why the hell are you acting so slow?

Did that massive Seattle earthquake a few years ago scramble your brain?

You run off to the middle of nowhere, honestly, you deserved to get caught in it." A neighbor walked past us on the sidewalk. "Hey, Miss Miller!

Haven't started dinner yet?" I offered a polite smile. "Just about to." Knox's jaw dropped. "You need to leave," I said. But his grip on my arm tightened like a vise. "Miller?

You changed your last name? Are you married?

No, wait, whose name is that?" "None of your business." I peeled his fingers off my jacket, one by one. "My name, my life—none of it has anything to do with you, Knox." He was a celebrity.

He couldn't afford to make a scene on a public street. I turned my back, walked up the stairs, and picked up Willow. Through the grimy hallway window, I looked down.

He was still standing on the pavement, staring at the empty space where I'd just been. He had never cared about me before. The shellshocked look on his face right now?

Probably just his ego bruised because I wasn't falling at his feet anymore.

Four years ago, when I found out about his starvingartist music dreams, I burned through every connection I had in New York's elite circles just to get him on a stage.

Even his current record label—the best in the industry—was a deal I practically begged for. He was my biological brother.

He grew up with nothing, and I just wanted him to have the world. But he twisted my intentions.

To him, my support was just a calculated plot to isolate Camilla and make her miserable. "Mommy, was that man today your family?" I blinked, smoothing down Willow's soft hair. "No, sweetie.

What makes you ask that?" "Just guessing. You guys have the same eyes." Family. Harrison's face violently intruded into my mind. I used to think that DNA didn't matter.

I used to think Harrison would be my big brother until the day I died. But four years ago, he knelt at the bottom of the staircase, cradling a bruised and crying Camilla.

He looked up at me, and his eyes were completely dead. "Waverly, you disgust me. From this second on, you don't exist to this family. You are not my sister.

My only sister is Camilla." I had dropped to my knees. I clawed at his pant leg, tears blurring my vision, swearing I didn't push her. I begged him not to throw me away.

He kicked me off. The sole of his shoe connected with my shoulder. He carried Camilla out the door and never looked back.

I pulled myself out of the memory and shook my head. "That man is not mommy's family." Her small shoulders slumped. "I just thought maybe Mommy had someone else… besides Uncle Wyatt." I tapped her nose, forcing a bright smile. "Mommy has you and Uncle Wyatt.

That's more than enough." "But Uncle Wyatt's gone…" Her bottom lip jutted out. "I really miss him." I pulled her into a hug, resting my chin on her head.

Disappointment was a bitter pill, but it was nothing compared to the agony of having a family, learning to depend on them, and then having them violently ripped away.

It felt like getting flayed alive. I survived it once. I would die before I let my daughter go through it again. I just didn't expect the universe to have a sick sense of humor.

The very next day. I ran into Harrison. Chapter 3 Willow spiked a fever in the middle of the night. I rushed her to the ER.

It was an aggressive viral infection that required an IV drip, keeping me awake in a stiff plastic chair until dawn. When her temperature finally broke, she was completely drained.

I hoisted her onto my back and carried her home, stopping at a street vendor to grab some meat and vegetables. I handed over the cash.

Before my fingers could graze the plastic handles of the grocery bags, a large, knuckleheavy hand intercepted them. I froze. I looked up.

Through the damp morning fog, Harrison's face materialized. Sleep deprivation left my brain swimming in static.

The word slipped out before I could bite my tongue. "Brother." Reality crashed over me. He had stripped me of the right to use that word a long time ago.

The Qin family was untouchable.

Four years ago, as punishment for "bullying" Camilla, Harrison made one single phone call and blacklisted me from every corner of New York's elite society. "Mr.

Qin." I corrected myself instantly. My mind raced, trying to figure out why he was suddenly in Seattle.

I missed the way the color drained from his face. "Let me carry these," he rasped. "No need." I snatched at the bags in his hand.

My heel slipped on the damp pavement, throwing me off balance.

Willow let out a weak whimper against my neck. "Don't push yourself, Waverly." His fingers wrapped around my forearm, locking my movement. "I'm taking you and the child home." Waverly.

It had been an eternity since Harrison used my name like that. With his parents constantly traveling overseas on business, Harrison had practically raised me.

Back when he still saw me as his real sister, he gave me the world. I remember someone asking him once if he was afraid of spoiling me rotten, afraid I'd cause too much trouble.

He just narrowed his eyes and smirked. So what if she causes trouble? Let her burn the city down. I'll always be there to put out the fire. Then, Camilla came back.

At first, he promised I would always be his little sister. But every time Camilla picked a fight, every time she set me up, he forced me to swallow it. She suffered a lot, Waverly.

Just let her have this one. He kept saying the family owed her a debt we had to repay. I didn't want to make it hard for him.

He had been my anchor for over twenty years, and I just wanted to see him smile. So I backed down. I choked down the unfairness. Again and again.

It wasn't until he swallowed Camilla's final, devastating lie without a single question that the truth hit me.

I saw him as my brother, but I was just an imposter taking up space in his house.

When he stripped away his protection, when I fell into the dirt and became public enemy number one, I finally realized how violently stupid I was to ever depend on him.

The ride was dead silent. It had been years since I sat inside a Maybach. The heavy silence and the scent of expensive leather made my skin crawl.

I shrank into the corner of the backseat, pulling Willow tighter against my chest, my brain spinning in overdrive. Did Knox tell him?

Was he terrified I was coming back to ruin Camilla's life, so he took a redeye flight to neutralize the threat? What was he going to do to me?

Was he going to punish me for secretly having Brooks' baby? I didn't know. A sharp headache stabbed behind my eyes.

I locked my arms around Willow, burying my face in her jacket, keeping my eyes fixed on the dark floorboards instead of looking up. "Waverly…" I snapped my head up.

Deep lines had carved themselves into the corners of his eyes. "Four years ago, we all thought… you…" "Thought I was dead.

I know." I cut him off, my voice flat and mechanical. "Honestly, you can just keep pretending I am. I gave up trying to fight Camilla a long time ago.

Everything belonged to her anyway. Returning the stolen goods to their rightful owner is how it should be. You don't need to panic.

You don't need to put your guard up, and you definitely didn't need to fly out here to check on me.

I just want to live quietly with my daughter." I took a breath. "Oh, and my daughter is staying with me. She will never go looking for Brooks.

I swear on my actual life, I will never use her to sabotage Camilla and Brooks' relationship.

You can relax." I stared straight into his eyes. "You really can relax." He froze. "That's not…" "Then are you afraid I'm using the Qin family name to run some scam?

Don't worry, I dropped the name years ago…" "Waverly!" He practically choked on the word, cutting me off. The rims of his eyes turned bloodshot.

A muscle in his jaw jumped violently. "I came… I came to take you home…" Chapter 4 I couldn't comprehend what was going through Harrison's mind.

I hadn't been part of the Qin family for a long time. He broadcasted that to the entire world four years ago. And what was I supposed to go back for?

To be Camilla's personal punching bag again? I also didn't understand why a man with his net worth insisted on following me into my cramped, fivehundredsquarefoot apartment.

I laid Willow down on the mattress in the bedroom and walked over to the kitchen cabinets. I pulled out a tin of tea leaves, but my hand paused.

A guy like him wouldn't let this cheap stuff touch his tongue. I shoved it back and grabbed a plastic water bottle from the fridge instead. His eyes dropped to my right hand.

A strange, bitter tension tightened the muscles in his face. "Your fingers… are they any better?" I looked down.

The pinky and ring finger on my right hand were completely paralyzed. Dead weight. It happened right after Camilla came back to the family.

We were touring one of the Qin family's manufacturing plants. She got into a debate with an engineer over a machine's design.

To prove her point, she slammed her hand down on the start button. My hand had been resting right inside the mechanism. Before the accident, I was a rising concert pianist.

It was the only thing I had over Camilla. I wasn't as smart as her, I wasn't as capable. The piano was my only lifeline.

Whenever I practiced after Camilla returned, she would stand by the door, her face dripping with tragic regret. I always loved music.

If I hadn't been switched at birth, I'd be playing the piano right now too. And just like that, my stage career was slaughtered. I lost my mind.

I spent months drowning in a lightless pit. I knew in my gut she did it on purpose. The hatred gnawed a hole through my chest for robbing me of my only spotlight.

Until she suddenly attempted suicide. The moment the paramedics pumped her stomach and brought her back, the script flipped. I went from the victim to the villain.

I still remember that day. Harrison walked in straight from the ICU, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So you can't play the piano anymore. It's just two fingers.

Did you really have to drive her to kill herself over that?

Even if you're a useless brat who can't do anything right, even if we don't share blood, didn't I promise the family would take care of you forever?

Did you really have to push her this far?" Knox had stood there, his voice like ice. "If it wasn't for the hospital mixup, Camilla would be the one playing the piano.

You're just returning what you stole.

How do you have the nerve to throw a tantrum?" They all shoved it down my throat that my fingers were permanently ruined, that screaming about it wouldn't fix anything.

But later, at the party celebrating Camilla patenting the exact mechanical design that crushed my hand, I overheard the orthopedic surgeon talking to Harrison. "I told you back then, if Waverly went abroad for immediate rehab, she could recover over ninety percent of her mobility.

But you never took her? It's too late for her hand now." Harrison's voice hadn't carried an ounce of warmth. "It's better if Waverly doesn't play anymore.

Camilla wanted to learn the piano since she was little. Seeing Waverly unable to play will help balance out Camilla's resentment. It doesn't matter.

Even if Waverly is useless, I'll pay for her life. Playing the piano is irrelevant." That was the moment my spine turned to ice. My dreams. My entire future.

In his eyes, they were just loose change to buy Camilla's peace of mind. When did I start being terrified of him?

Probably right then. "I heard you're teaching music at a local academy." His voice suddenly sliced through the dead air in my apartment. I froze. The blood drained from my face.

My eyes blew wide open. Panic hijacked my lungs. "I'm just teaching basic beginner classes to toddlers! The songs are simple, I can play them without my ring and pinky fingers.

I don't have any delusions about going back to the stage. I swear I won't do anything to upset Camilla! I just need this job to feed my kid!

And the doctors already said the nerve damage is permanent, I will never play well again for the rest of my life." My chest heaved.

I backed away from him. "Is that still not enough for you?

Are you going to take this away from me too?!" He flinched. "Waverly, I'm not…" But a highpitched ringing in my ears drowned out the rest of his words.

Chapter 5 The terror of having my life dismantled again hit me like a physical wave. I couldn't lose this job. I couldn't let Camilla’s whims strip away the only thing I had left.

I held up my right hand and shoved it toward Harrison’s face, my fingers trembling so hard I could barely hold them steady. "Look!

Look at them!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "I can’t play! I’ll never play again! I gave everything back to the Qins! Everything!" My breath came in ragged, shallow hitches.

My lungs felt like they were collapsing. "If you don't believe me, break them yourself! They're dead!

They don't move!" I choked out a sob, the air in the room turning into lead. "I was your sister for twenty years, Harrison. Can’t you just let me live?" Harrison’s face crumpled.

He reached out, his hands hovering before slamming onto my shoulders, gripping me with a desperation that bordered on violence. "Waverly, stop! Don't be afraid!

Please, don't be afraid!" His voice was thick, shaking. "I’ll protect you this time. I swear. Just trust me." Trust him? The irony tasted like copper in my mouth. I fought him.

I clawed at his expensive suit, trying to push back against the suffocating weight of his presence. This was my life. The life Wyatt bought for me with his own blood. "No!

Get away from me!" I thrashed against him, but my body was spent.

The sleepless night at the hospital and the sheer force of the panic attack finally snapped the last thread of my consciousness.

My vision tunneled into a pinpoint of black, and the world fell silent. I dreamed of Wyatt. He looked exactly the same as the morning I met him.

He was standing in the courtyard of his small guesthouse, leaning over a stone basin, shaving.

He tilted his head, catching sight of me, a lopsided grin appearing on his face. "Well, if it isn't our favorite little Waverly," he teased, his voice like gravel. "Spacing out again?" A jagged scar ran across his cheek, making him look dangerous to anyone who didn't know him.

I stood there, twisting the hem of my cheap maternity dress. "Wyatt… I’m out of money. And nobody wants to hire a pregnant woman.

Can I… can I owe you for the rent for a few months?" He let out a booming laugh, wiping the shaving cream from his jaw. "That’s it?

You look like the world is ending over a few bucks? Look, kid, I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with. I just need the company.

You stay as long as you need." At first, he was just my landlord—a former cop who had been medically retired due to injuries and scars. But slowly, he became my brother.

He was nothing like Harrison. Harrison showed love with wire transfers and blacklists. Wyatt showed it with his hands.

He was loud and rough around the edges, but his heart was a map of every person he’d ever helped. When I first arrived, I was a walking nerve ending.

I was brittle, ready to shatter at a touch. He could have ignored me, but he didn't.

He saw the depression swallowing me whole and spent every waking hour dragging me back to the light. "Waverly, look at that kite you painted!

Look how high it’s flying!" "Waverly, you eaten yet? I accidentally made too many pork buns. Come help me finish them." At first, I thought he was an idiot.

A meddling, overbearing stranger. But then, I started to crave his meddling. He didn't just throw money at me. He called me out on my spoiled habits.

He taught me what was right and what was wrong with a gentle, unwavering hand.

When I finally landed a job, he was so genuinely proud he drank two extra beers, then looked like a scolded puppy when I chewed him out for his hangover. He taught me confidence.

He taught me how to stand on my own two feet. "Waverly," he told me once, his eyes steady on mine. "There isn't a single day in this world you can't get through." We were strangers who shared nothing but a roof, and yet, he gave me a real home.

Until the day the earth shook. Willow was six months old when the Great Seattle Earthquake hit.

The tremors triggered a massive fire that roared through the street where our guesthouse stood.

Wyatt dragged me and Willow out of the collapsing building, shielding us with his own body. Once we hit the pavement, he turned back toward the flames.

I grabbed his sleeve, screaming for him to stay. He just looked at me and smiled. A calm, peaceful smile. "Waverly, I’m a cop.

I can't just stand here while people are burning." He squeezed my hand. "Don't worry. I’ll be right back." Wyatt always kept his word. But that day, he lied to me.

He saved over a dozen people from that furnace. He went in for the last one, and he never came back out. I don't even have a single photo of him.

He always said his scar made him too ugly for the camera. But my phone is full of hundreds of photos he took of me and Willow. Chapter 6 My eyelids felt glued shut.

I wanted to slip back into the dark, just to stay with Wyatt for one more second.

But the sharp, aggressive crack of voices dragged me back to the sterile smell of a hospital room. "The three of us tore the country apart looking for her for four years.

You find her and keep it a secret? What the hell is that?!" That voice. Brooks.

Knox’s voice immediately cut through the room. "What gives you the right to even look at her?" "We share a kid.

That alone gives me more right than anyone in this room." "Four years." Harrison’s voice dropped, laced with absolute ice. "Did you even know the kid existed?

Did you ever lift a single finger to provide for them? You are Camilla's fiancé now. Do right by her.

My two sisters are not items on a shelf for you to trade." Brooks' voice climbed a decibel. "Harrison, do you think you're God?

If you hadn't demanded to punish Waverly, if you hadn't greenlit every elite circle in New York to tear her apart until she couldn't even breathe in the city, would she have run?" He didn't stop. "Why did I agree to marry Camilla?

If you two hadn't sworn on your lives that Waverly pushed her, why would I have ever given up on her?

Why would I have ever agreed to swap fiancées?!" "Because of what we said?" Knox let out a harsh, ugly laugh. "Brooks, don't tell me you didn't just take the easy way out.

Don't tell me you weren't already sick of my sister and catching feelings for Camilla. Besides, Camilla is the true Qin heiress.

Marrying her secured your corporate position perfectly, didn't it?" "Don't you dare call her your sister.

What kind of brother are you?" Brooks spat back. "When she hit rock bottom and went to you for help, you left her freezing in the snow all night.

If you had just opened your damn door, would she have been desperate enough to disappear?

Drop the loving family act." "I…" Knox choked on his words. "I still have the most right to be by her side." "I am her older brother.

I make the decisions," Harrison stated coldly. "I'm taking Waverly back to the estate.

She and her daughter have absolutely zero ties to either of you." "Who gave you permission to take her anywhere?!" Knox snapped. "What are you to her?

You're the one who completely severed your ties with her. I am her biological brother. I'm the only one who actually shares blood with her and that kid." "You ungrateful prick!

You have the nerve to bring up blood?!" Brooks roared. "She swallowed her pride and begged half of New York just to get you on a stage!

When you blew up, the very first person you thanked on camera was Camilla! Did Waverly's name ever even cross your lips?! I am the father of her child!

We are family!" "Knock it off! The patient needs rest.

Immediate family only, and only one of you!" A nurse shoved the hospital door open, glaring at the three of them. "I'm her brother!" Harrison stepped forward. "I'm her brother!" Knox echoed instantly.

The nurse paused, glancing down at her clipboard. "You gentlemen are… Miss Miller's brothers?" Dead silence hit the room.

A thick, suffocating wave of embarrassment settled over the three men. "Me!

I'm the father of her child," Brooks claimed immediately. "Then you stay," the nurse barked, pointing at the hallway. "The other two, get out