Chapter 2The Lucky Charm

Liam and I were desk partners freshman year of high school.

His dad donated enough money to build the new gym. In return, our homeroom teacher treated Liam like a prince. Knowing his grades were terrible, she assigned me to sit with him—"peer-to-peer tutoring"—and wouldn't let me refuse.

I was furious.

I went home to my dad. My dad immediately funded the new science wing and the library.

The teacher started fawning over me. After one day as Liam's desk partner, I was moved to the opposite corner of the room.

He was a cocky, restless guy. He probably felt like I’d embarrassed him, so he cornered me in the hallway after school.

He was clearly trying to intimidate me. But I can be resourceful.

With the hallway full of people, I dropped my backpack, sat right down on the floor, and wailed.

I accused him of being a monster who "used me and then dumped me."

People passing by stared and pointed. An 80-year-old grandma, who was there for some event, actually hobbled over and hit him with her cane.

Liam's face was bright red. He didn't dare touch the old woman, and I was still crying on the floor, so he couldn't move.

Then, not wanting to lose the fight, I scrambled up and told the grandma it was actually me who dumped him.

She asked why.

I said, "He can't get it up."

Then I grabbed my bag and ran for my life, terrified he was going to kill me.

After that, we were declared rivals. We hated each other.

But somehow, all that fighting... morphed. One sunny afternoon, we were sitting on the bleachers, and he suddenly turned to me.

"Claire," he said, "let's go out."

The boy with the sharp eyes and arrogant smirk, the one who looked like he'd punch you as soon as look at you... his hands were visibly shaking. He was terrified.

The sun was perfect. The breeze was gentle. It was, in short, a good day to fall in love.

So we did.

We both donated to the building fund again and sat together for the next three years. I dragged him through his studies, and we got into the same university.

Freshman year of college, we skipped a month of classes and backpacked through Europe. At the peak of it all, I cut a lock of my hair and wove it into a bracelet for him.

A charm. To keep him safe.

But he was a pragmatist. He didn't believe in charms. He just wore it.

I thought it was a symbol of our love.

Until he lost it. And replaced it with a new one.

If that was all, maybe I wouldn't have been so devastated. But I saw it. I saw the rage in his eyes... for another girl. Because he believed that if her bracelet was damaged, she would be hurt.

When he lost mine, he didn't care. He thought I was being dramatic.

The contrast made everything so... absurd.

In that moment, I felt like a joke. Pathetic and sad.

My heart ached with a dull, heavy throb. I'm not the kind of person who can tolerate this. I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen.

So I called my dad.

The old man was probably in the middle of something with his latest girlfriend; I could hear him breathing heavily.

"Dad," I said, "that Sterling heir you mentioned? The one who's been in a coma for five years? I'll marry him."

My dad always told me he'd spoil me in little things, but when it came to the family business, I couldn't be selfish. If Liam and I didn't last, I had to accept his arrangement.

But instead of celebrating, the old man was quiet.

"Claire... are you sure?"

He's a strange man, my father. I never knew my mom; he raised me himself. He doesn't believe in true love, lives like a playboy, but he never brought a woman home or let anyone disrespect me.

I've secretly seen him, though, drunk on the sofa, crying. Mumbling about some "heartless woman" and asking why she didn't want him, and didn't want me.

So, when it came to my marriage, his philosophy was simple: True love is crap. Power and money are the only things you can trust.

The Sterlings are top-tier. Their heir has been in a coma for five years, and no one knows if he'll ever wake up. But if I married him, the Sterling family would give me 5% of their company stock, and my family's business would get a massive boost.

The only price was my marriage.

I remember the light in his eyes when he first proposed it.

"I'm your father, Claire. I'm looking out for you. Men are all the same. You gamble on 'true love,' and you'll end up with nothing. Better to marry a vegetable. You get the money, the power, and he won't be moving. Your legs still work. You can have a couple of boy-toys on the side, who's gonna know?"

He was so excited, I thought he wished he could marry the guy.

I yelled at him back then, told him he was wrong, that true love was real.

He just laughed at me. Said I'd learn the hard way and told me not to come crying to him when I did.

"I won't have to," I'd said. "Liam will never make me cry."

Funny how things turn out. I'm the one with egg on my face.

So, to my dad's question, I could only answer with a bitter laugh. "Isn't this what you always said? You can't rely on a man."

If I can't rely on one, I might as well listen to my father and pay him back for raising me.

But the old man was still quiet. After a long moment, he asked, "Did he hurt you?"

I didn't answer. I was afraid he'd laugh at me.

He didn't ask again. But, faintly, I heard him sniffle.

Tsk. Crying at his age. So lame.