Everyone in San Francisco's elite circles knew I was the most important person in Mateo Lexford's life.

He loved me as if I were his whole world, pampering me like a queen.

He would place an unlimited bid to secure any piece of jewelry I wanted.

I loved white roses, so he bought a manor and filled it with them, every bloom tended by his own hands.

When I craved his cooking, he'd walk away from an 80-million-dollar deal without hesitation, rushing home to prepare a meal for me.

When the Hebert family's heiress accidentally spilled water on my dress, he immediately announced he was canceling all business with her family, getting them blacklisted from the market.

The time I was forced into an abortion and nearly bled to death, he dropped to his knees, sobbing, begging the doctors to take every drop of his blood if it meant saving me.

But only I knew the truth—his affection and tenderness had all been a lie.

The woman he truly loved was my twin sister, Bella Moreau.

I was nothing more than a tool to keep Bella alive.

The loss of my unborn child crushed me.

But I didn't cry or make a fuss. I proactively worked with my nutritionist to get my body back to health.

While Mateo scoured the world for a one-of-a-kind diamond for Bella, my application to a national conservation project—focused on restoring ancient artifacts in a controlled workspace—had been approved.

From then on, we would be miles apart—never to meet again.

***

I had just finished replying to an email from my mentor, Alfred Maxton, when Mateo walked into the room.

He carried a syringe and a blood bag.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

"Give me your arm." He'd said this countless times, and his voice was as cold and emotionless as ever.

I numbly extended my arm.

Mateo disinfected my skin, then expertly slid the needle into my vein.

I looked up and unexpectedly caught his faint smile.

Even though I'd been following the nutritionist's regimen since losing my baby at seven months, I was still weak, unable to maintain any posture for too long.

Instinctively, I shifted just a little.

But Mateo's expression darkened instantly. He snapped, "Don't move! Every drop of your blood is vital for Bel's life."

The pain in my heart intensified, as if it had been stabbed.

Mateo then gripped my wrist tightly, as if to keep me from moving again.

I winced under his hold, yet that pain paled in comparison to the agony roiling within me.

Silence filled the space between us.

Mateo stared intently at the blood bag, while I just wished it would be over soon.

After a while, he finally sealed the bag. Just as he was about to apply gauze to the needle puncture, his phone rang.

The ringtone was a recording Bella had made just for him.

Mateo didn't spare me a glance—he answered immediately.

Blood spurted out, a few drops splattering his shirt.

But Mateo, usually a stickler for cleanliness who couldn't stand a single stain, didn't seem to care. He broke into a doting smile the moment Bella said she missed him.

"I miss you, too. I'll be back soon," he said.

He put the blood bag into a special case, then turned and headed for the door.

Not once did he look back at me.

"Wait," I called out, dragging myself out of bed despite the dizziness, and standing in front of him.

"What is it?" There was a trace of impatience in his voice.

I sighed softly. "Today is our third wedding anniversary. If people found out you're spending the night with another woman, there would be serious consequences."

Mateo glanced at our wedding photo on the wall and smiled. "The world will only know that I spent a romantic evening with the woman I love. And that she received the multi-million-dollar anniversary gift I secured with a limitless bid at the auction—a symbol of my unwavering devotion to her."

I stared at him in disbelief, stumbling back two steps.

"You are... you are going to have her make a public appearance tonight in my place?"

Mateo waved dismissively. "Let me be clear: to me and to the outsiders, the one I married has always been Bella. You, Stella Moreau, are nothing more than a stand-in with Bella's face—a stepping stone to her becoming my wife after she recovers."

In that moment, my heart broke.

So all along, I was just a substitute, the only one committed to this marriage.

"If... if I hadn't been born with blood that could save Bella, would you... would you have ever noticed me?"

Mateo paused, silent for a long time, before finally replying, "I don't answer hypothetical questions."

A bitter laugh escaped me. Any remaining hope I had slipped away.

"You can go."

Mateo didn't hesitate—just turned and left.

Half an hour later, he started showing off his love for Bella on Instagram.

He and Bella kissed as fireworks spelling out "LOVE BELLA" erupted across the sky.

Meanwhile, I was locked in by the bodyguards he'd assigned, forbidden to take a single step outside.

So I wouldn't have the slightest chance to ruin his romantic night with Bella.

Even though... he knew I never would.

Mateo's Instagram lovefest lasted until dawn.

I was like a silent voyeur, imprinting every post deep into my memory.

Until... morning broke.

I hadn't slept all night, and my eyes stung with exhaustion.

With trembling hands, I picked up a pen and circled the latest date on the calendar.

Three days left!

I forced myself to stay alert.

Mateo came in the middle of the night, still carrying that familiar syringe and blood bag.

I offered my right arm, riddled with needle marks, my voice flat and emotionless. "Let's get this over with. I don't want to waste time."

He was silent. Then he pulled a box from his pocket and set it in front of me.

"Bel sent this for you. It's her way of rewarding you for paving the way for her in the spotlight."

I glanced at it but didn't open it. "Tell Bella thanks for me."

Mateo began to draw my blood.

This time, I didn't try to make small talk or win his favor like I used to.

"You... seem different today."

I looked up, my face blank, my tone cold. "My husband spent our anniversary with another woman. I've been keeping that woman alive from day one, and when she's healthy again, I'll have to step aside and leave this city. I think any woman would feel different."

His gaze flickered. For once, he drew less blood than usual.

I didn't ask why.

He handed the blood bag to the housekeeper, then, surprisingly, sat down on the sofa.

I was caught off guard.

In three years of marriage, except for a few specific days, he never stayed the night here.

Not because Bella forbade it, but because he wanted to remain faithful to the woman he loved.

Mateo looked up at me. "Today's the first day of Bel's period."

Suddenly, it all made sense. I felt my blood freeze in my veins.

I stared at him, my voice shaking. "So every month, the days you stay here are when she's on her period? The days she can't be with you? So you use me—her stand-in—to satisfy yourself?"

Mateo pressed his lips together, silent, and I knew the answer.

Furious, I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him, shouting, "Either hold it in, find someone else, or go back and break Bella's rules!"

Bang!

He slammed his hand down hard on the table.

"The last time I made you get rid of the baby was because Bel wanted to be a mother herself. But after her latest evaluation, the doctor said that even if she recovers, pregnancy could put her at risk again.

"I can't let her go through that pain again. So I've decided—you'll get pregnant again. This time, you'll carry the baby to term, and Bel will raise it as her own. That way, her place as Mrs. Lexford will be even more secure."

Mateo paused. "Your parents agreed, too. They already accepted 1.5 million dollars from me."

The cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.

A shard bounced up, slicing my arm, and beads of blood welled up.

So after all these years, Bella was still the only one in their hearts. I was just a means to an end.

My eyes burned.

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

Mateo started unbuttoning his shirt and walked toward me.

In the past, when I was still hopelessly in love with him, I'd not only satisfy Mateo's every desire during those nights he stayed over, but I'd also take care of him in every possible way.

But this time, I refused. "I don't feel well."

Mateo froze for a moment, then grabbed my chin with his large hand. "Stella, don't forget your place."

I stared off into space and slapped his hand away. "If you lay a finger on me against my will, I'll call the police."

"Damn it!" Mateo cursed under his breath, his face flushing with anger. "Give me your arm."

I looked at him in shock. "You know I'm not feeling well, and you still want to draw my blood?"

Mateo shoved me down onto the sofa.

He pulled out a fresh syringe and, ignoring my struggles and kicks, jabbed it straight into my vein.

Blood flowed through the tube into the collection bag.

I was in so much pain, I went numb.

Mateo slumped back on the couch and lit a cigarette. "I really do want to give you another child."

After losing so much blood, I was shivering uncontrollably from the cold.

Tears streamed down my face.

When he finished drawing yet another bag, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and screamed at him, "Get out! I don't want to see you!"

Mateo paused as he packed up the blood bags.

Just then, the door swung open and Bella walked in, wearing a dress Mateo had designed himself.

Seeing her face—identical to mine—my pupils contracted and I clenched my fists.

Mateo couldn't hide his excitement at the sight of Bella.

He rushed to help her sit down on the sofa, treating her as if she were made of glass.

"I told you to wait for me at home, didn't I?"

Watching the two of them gaze at each other with such deep affection, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

Bella smiled, her beautiful eyes landing on me. "Stella, I'm almost fully recovered. Tomorrow, I'll be accompanying Mateo to the gala. You... can disappear from our lives now."

I froze for a second, then took a deep breath. "Don't worry, I won't stand in the way of your happiness."

I stood up, ready to pack my things.

Bella stopped me. "No need to pack. They'll provide you with clothes and food where you're going. You don't need to bring anything."

My brows furrowed. "Where am I going?"

Bella's lips curled into a strange, mocking smile. "UCSF Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital, of course."

It felt like I'd been struck by lightning. I stared at Mateo in disbelief. "You... you're okay with this?"

Mateo was about to answer, but Bella tugged on his sleeve, biting her lip pitifully. "I'll only feel safe with you if she's sent there and can never get out. That way, no one will ever suspect the woman by your side used to be her."

Mateo nodded with a gentle smile. "Whatever Bel decides is what I decide."

In that moment, whatever was left of my spirit finally snapped.

I watched in horror as Mateo made the call to the psychiatric hospital, my whole body trembling.

"Mateo, I'll leave, you don't have to—"

Before I could finish, he grabbed my wrist just as Bella instructed.

Having just lost so much blood, I didn't have the strength to fight back.

He pinned me down on the sofa, leaving me gasping in pain.

Ten minutes later, doctors from UCSF Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital arrived.

Mateo pushed me toward them. "As her husband, I consent to her admission."

I tried to speak, but Bella shoved a rag into my mouth.

"She gets violent when she's having an episode, and her private life is a mess. I'm worried she'll infect you with something."

Hearing her lies, the two doctors looked at me with open disgust.

I watched helplessly as Mateo signed his name on the consent form.

At that moment, I fell into utter despair.

The very next day, Mateo couldn't wait to show Bella off at the gala.

Egged on by the crowd, he kissed her passionately in front of everyone.

After the kiss, he produced a rare agate and diamond tiara, then dropped to one knee in front of Bella.

"Babe, I love you."

Bella's eyes filled with tears of joy.

Mateo stood, ready to place the tiara on her head.

But I burst through the doors, a half-smile on my lips. "Honey, gifting a national treasure to your mistress—that's a federal crime."

The fact that Bella and I shared the exact same face had already caused a sensation—but my calling Mateo "honey" sent shockwaves through the entire room.

The crowd erupted in whispers and speculation.

Bella's face went ghostly pale as she clung desperately to Mateo's sleeve.

He looked completely stunned, terrified I might say something even crazier.

He rushed over, lowering his voice and gritting his teeth. "Who let you out?"

I smiled faintly and stepped onto the stage.

"I'm sorry to make a spectacle of things tonight, but I'm Stella Moreau, Mateo's wife."

I pulled out our marriage certificate, holding it up for all to see.

Both my name and Mateo's were clearly printed on it.

Then I pointed at Bella. "My sister, Bella—the other woman in our marriage. Or, as you all like to call her, the homewrecker."

The room exploded in chaos.

Bella panicked.

Her elegance vanished as she shrieked at me, wild-eyed and flailing. "You... you're lying! I'm the one married to Mat! Mom and Dad can vouch for me!"

No sooner had she finished than my parents—who had never given me anything but violence—strode to her side.

"That's right, she's just jealous of Bel. She wants to take her sister's place just because they look alike. She's the failure of our family. Sorry for the embarrassment."

Looking at these so-called parents, I couldn't help but feel the sharp pain in my chest.

From the moment I was born, I was unwanted.

Mom and Dad resented me for supposedly stealing Bella's nutrients in the womb, leaving her frail from birth.

Any time Bella felt even a little unwell, they'd beat me or berate me.

My body still bore the scars from their whippings.

It wasn't until a mystic told them my blood could heal Bella that their attitude changed—they ordered me to give blood to her.

Whenever I refused, they'd beat me even more cruelly.

That was when Mateo appeared.

He saved me from my parents' abuse, my body battered and bruised.

I fell for him instantly, thinking he was my salvation, my light.

But the day after our wedding, he made it clear—he loved Bella.

He'd married me for one reason—to use my blood to restore Bella's health.

Only when Bella recovered could she be accepted by the Lexford family elders.

And I foolishly believed that if I gave enough, he'd eventually see my love and accept me.

For three years of marriage, I kept Bella alive with my blood.

Meanwhile, Mateo crafted the image of a devoted, loving husband—just so Bella, with my identical face, could secure her place in the Lexford family.

But to him, it was all just my wishful thinking.

All along, to Mateo and my parents, there was only Bella.

Now, with Mom and Dad backing her, Bella was emboldened.

She wrapped her arm around Mateo's.

"Stella, out of respect for me, your brother-in-law won't take back what he's given you. Don't waste your time hoping for anything more."

I curled my lips into a smile.

"The favor you're talking about? You mean teaming up with this scumbag to lock me away in UCSF Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital?"

I produced the psychiatric commitment papers Mateo had signed.

"If he's not my husband, why did he sign as my spouse?"

Mateo's eyes flashed with malice as he looked at me.

But after years of navigating the business world, he quickly regained his composure.

"Stella, your condition has worsened. Be good and accept proper treatment. I'll cover all your medical expenses. When you're discharged healthy, you'll get a payout from me and Bella—enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

I stepped down from the stage and walked over to them.

Bella thought I'd given in, a smug grin spreading across her face.

"Stella, if you keep this up, not only will I have you locked in that hospital, but Mat and I will make sure the doctors there turn you into a real lunatic. You'll spend your life wishing you were dead, barely clinging to existence."

Her smile didn't last.

Because her words, picked up by the tiny transmitter pinned to my chest, echoed through the entire hall.

Bella broke down.

"You—"

Mateo hadn't expected me to be so prepared.

He pulled Bella close as she sobbed and barked coldly, "Enough! Get out!"

I glanced at him.

Then, summoning every ounce of strength, I slapped him hard across the face.

"That's for my seven-month-old baby."

Before Mateo could react, I slapped him again.

"And that's for me."

Finally, the years of humiliation and pain spilled out, and the sight of Mateo's swollen, reddened face filled me with satisfaction.

But the thought of my unborn child—ripped from me, tied down to a hospital bed—still tore me apart.

Mateo's fist clenched in rage. "Security! Get this bitch out of here!"

No sooner had he spoken than five men in black suits entered the hall.

Bella, nestled in his arms, smiled triumphantly. "Stella, you're finished."

I raised an eyebrow. "We'll see who's finished soon enough."

The five men strode forward and stopped right in front of Mateo.