Falling for Her- A Heiress Abandoned

During my birthday trip, I fell off a cliff—right alongside Jenny Foster, the sweet little scholarship girl.

When our two childhood friends finally showed up, they didn't even hesitate. They ran straight past me and straight to her.

"Lynn, you're the Evans heiress. If anything happens, people will rush to save you. But Jenny… she only has us!"

I screamed for help, but they carried Jenny off without so much as a glance in my direction.

Barely alive, I crawled my way down the mountainside—alone—and somehow survived.

When I finally made it back, covered in blood and dirt, I found all my belongings dumped next to the trash bin.

"Jenny's still shaken up from the fall and can't sleep alone. So… we gave her your room. Hope that's okay?"

I stared at my arm, still bleeding, and didn't say a word.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed the one number that had haunted me for years—Victor Lowe. The brooding billionaire next door.

"You once promised to marry me when we were kids," I said. "Does that offer still stand?"

...

"Wait for me. I'll come back."

I ended the call, gathered the clothes scattered on the floor, and turned toward the exit. Behind me, the two Grant brothers continued fussing over Jenny Foster.

But just as I reached the front door, a hand yanked me back.

"Lynn, please… I didn't mean to take your room. Don't be mad, okay?" Jenny's voice trembled, her wide eyes filled with fake tears.

But her fingers were anything but gentle. They pressed down hard—right into the open wound on my arm. The pain shot through me like fire. I pulled away with barely any force, and she collapsed to the floor like I'd hit her.

"Lynn Evans!" Kyle barked as he stormed out of the hallway. "You're seriously still playing victim? Jenny's been up all night crying because of you, and I haven't even said a word!"

Kevin's hand shot up the moment Jenny hit the ground.

I didn't flinch. I just looked at him—searching for even a flicker of the warmth I used to know. But it wasn't there. Just cold rage.

Until he scooped Jenny into his arms.

"Lynn, don't be upset. I'll leave. I'll go right now, I promise," Jenny whimpered, twisting in Kevin's arms like she wanted to get away. But he just held her tighter, glaring at me like I was poison.

"This is Jenny's home now," he said flatly. "If you want her gone, you better remember your place."

My place?

I stood there, stunned.

Twenty years of shared memories—gone. Just like that. All for a girl they met two weeks ago.

"Don't just stand there," Kyle snapped. "Jenny twisted her ankle. Didn't you used to be good at massages? Go fix it. Take this as your chance to make things right."

His eyes never once left Jenny.

I looked down at my hands, still covered in blood and dirt.

And for the first time—I said no.

"With these hands?"

For a second, something flickered in both their expressions. Guilt? Doubt?

Then it vanished—replaced by disgust.