Chapter 11
That evening, I came to the Rothschild estate for dinner, Charles Rothschild, the family patriarch, had been Grandpa’s closest
friend for decades.
“Rachel, dear,” Charles said warmly as I picked at my food. “Your grandfather mentioned you might be feeling a bit… sad now.”
I nodded.
Charles leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, I have a proposition that might cheer you up. Any man in the Rothschild family would be lucky to have you. Consider it an open invitation.”
I was about to politely decline when the front door opened and someone walked into the dining room.
My breath caught.
He was absolutely stunning – tall, with dark hair and the kind of confident presence that came from being constantly in the spotlight.
When he smiled apologetically for being late, I felt my heart skip.
“Sorry I’m late. Practice ran over.” His eyes found mine across the table. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jaxon.”
Jaxon Rothschild. The Formula 1 champion I’d seen on magazine covers but never met in person.
“Rachel,” I managed, probably sounding like an idiot.
For the next two hours, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. And when he asked if I wanted to see his trophy collection, I said yes
without hesitation.
That night began the most intense courtship of my life.
I pursued Jaxon with everything I had – showing up at his races, learning everything about Formula 1, making myself indispensable to his world.
Six months later, he proposed.
I thought I had everything I’d ever wanted. Charles was thrilled, Dad approved of the match, and I was planning the wedding of my dreams.
But everything changed the moment Sophie arrived at my home.
Sophie had originally been Sophie Covey, daughter of Dan Covey, the family’s driver.
In a devastating car accident, Dan had pulled me to safety, then went back for something important. The gas tank exploded, killing him instantly. When they found his body, he was still clutching a cross necklace-one he said his wife had blessed for protection.
Sophie became an orphan overnight. Consumed by guilt, my parents took her in, determined to make amends for Dan’s
sacrifice.
I would never forget the day Sophie arrived.
My parents’ eyes brimmed with guilt and heartache. My mother broke down completely, stroking Sophie’s face for what felt
like an eternity before finally whispering, “Sweet child, the Leroix home is your home now.”
From that moment, everything began to shift. The parents and brother who had once doted on me suddenly couldn’t do enough for Sophie.
When Sophie admired my bedroom, I was moved to the guest room. When there was only one spot available for the design competition, I had to withdraw. When Sophie injured her hand and couldn’t hold a pen, my design sketches were given to her
instead.
Later, Sophie won first place using my designs.
Sophie was replacing me, piece by piece.
By the time I realized this horrifying truth, it was too late.
They had completely transferred their love to Sophie, while me-the real daughter-became a laughingstock throughout Manhattan, discarded like a stray dog.
But just as Sophie basked in her newfound glory, she killed someone in a hit-and-run accident and fled the scene.
In court, my beloved brother Arthur-a prominent attorney-personally testified against me, sending me to prison.
They told me: “Look, Rachel, Dan died saving your life. You owe him everything. Sophie’s his daughter, and she wants to be a designer-she can’t have a criminal record. You’re going to take the fall. Consider it payback.”
Sophie couldn’t have criminal record, so I would bear the burden instead.
But who had ever considered that design was MY dream too?
