From Tool To Treasure: My New Life

d, empty click was my farewell. The tears I' d been holding back streamed down my face, but beneath the

topher' s medal. I wouldn' t take it. It was a souvenir of

eeping through the city felt invigorating, a brutal kiss of freedom. With a small backpack slung over my shoulder, I slipped out of the

and pragmatism. "He's going to announce our engagement," she'd said, her tone devoid of real excitement, "and he's going to make sure there are no loose ends. Eden, he's go

oken about me. "Eden? She's useful. A good distraction. An emotional pressure valve, you know? I need to vent on someone so I can be the

d felt numb, violated. I was a tool, a convenience, carefully designed to absor

breaking point. The moment I started packing, quietl

er, louder, more resilient. I was the quiet one, the one who blended into the background. We were inseparable until we were five, then our lives split like a cracked m

d cried. I never did. How could I? We were identical. But as we grew, separated by different worlds, our paths diverged

then, there was the other boy, the quiet one with the kind eyes, who had a terrible skiing accident nearby. I' d helped him, makeshift splints and warm blankets from the camp infirmary

essful, adored, wealthy. Kane's obsession with her, his belief that she was the "savior" who had given him the medal-

-my career, my apartment, my false sense of security. But I was also shedding the skin of someone I never truly wanted to be. I was heading back to the small, sustainable farm colle

just me. And for the first time in a very long time, that thought didn

ng again. I

answered. "Yes, Mr. Hill?" My v

The apartment is empty." His voice was a raw, guttural roar

even though my heart was pounding.

oing back to that dirty, pathetic farm? You have no home t

y be a penniless orphan, Kane, but I'

reputation-everything is tied to me. I'll cut off every singl

appearances, don't you? The benevolent billionaire, supporting a charming foster

end. I imagined his furious face, his dis

d, a sense of profound

I closed my eyes, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. It wasn't a tear of sorrow, but of release. I was fin