Strawberry

The box arrived on Valentine's Day, filled not with chocolates, but with used, strawberry-flavored condoms – a twisted message from my fiancé, Ethan Vance.

For three years, I, Sarah, the rightful Miller heiress, endured his mockery and Chloe Peterson's manipulative presence, all while my tech billionaire grandfather insisted I choose an heir from four men who only ever loved Chloe.

This time, on our shared birthday, Chloe, feigning injury and tears, framed me for kidnapping within moments of arriving at our Aspen ski resort party, turning Ethan and the others against me, leaving me shivering and deserted in the freezing lodge.

Ethan, my supposed fiancé, ripped off my jacket to give to her, his eyes blazing with fury, as his friends-my so-called "chosen heirs"-circled like vultures, accusing me of cruelty and jealousy.

Left locked in the sub-zero night, my phone dead from the cold, I finally blew the emergency whistle Grandpa gave me, summoning my quiet bodyguard, Mark Davis, who arrived like a dark knight in shining armor.