Born To Die For The Fake Heiress

I was the Vaughn familys best-kept secret, their illegitimate daughter tucked away in the sprawling estate in Greenwich.
Everyone in the inner circle knew Mrs. Evelyn Vaughn, the woman with the saintly reputation, had kept me out of the goodness of her hearta quiet act of charity and perhaps a means to earn extra grace for her cherished, chronically ill youngest daughter, Willa.
What they didn't know was the cost of that charity. From the time I was six until I turned twenty-six, I had donated blood to Willa hundreds of times. A year before that, shed needed a healthy organ, and half of my left kidney was now inside her.
When Willa turned twenty-seven, her heart began to fail.
Pierce Vaughn, the eldest son and the familys CEO, was the first to act, securing me back inside the Vaughn estate before I could take another breath.
I stood in the library as Mrs. Vaughn, her fingers constantly moving over her Malasthe worn, fragrant prayer beadsspoke to me. Her voice was gentle, a warm, soft benediction that felt entirely like a lie.
My dear girl, it is I who have wronged you. When you are gone, you must come back and take my life. Seek no one else.
But on the day of the planned surgery, the old housekeeper, a woman who had worked for the Vaughns for decades before shed been dismissed and confined after a nervous breakdown, appeared, raving through the hospital halls.
She screamed, Mrs. Vaughn! They switched the babies that year! Someone swapped your child!
That day, the proud, pious Evelyn Vaughn was forced to execute her own heart, to claim her own life.
1
After I was admitted to the hospital and locked down, the person who visited me most often was Pierce Vaughn, the brother who had personally dragged me back from the airport.
He never seemed to have a purpose for being there.
He would just sit in my room for hours, watching me knit a scarf.
Finally, I couldnt bear the presence of my personal human freezer anymore. I dropped the yarn and looked at him, a headache starting behind my eyes.
Youve got more than enough security guards to make sure I dont run, Pierce. You dont need to personally babysit me.
The words seemed to hit him. He shifted his gaze, looking away with a sudden, palpable shame.
It took a long moment before he looked back, his voice thick and almost helpless.
Is there anything you want?
He paused, a tiny, ragged breath slipping out. Or, a wish? Before before everything.
A wish?
My fingers tightened on the knitting needles.
The day I was brought back and locked up, I had been scheduled to board a flight northto Montanato finally see the snow.
In my twenty-seven years, because of Willas perpetually fragile health, I had never once been allowed to leave the City.
At the beginning of the year, the doctors had said Willas health was improving. The Vaughns had, finally, loosened their leash.
But Willa, high on her newfound freedom, had gone skydiving and scuba diving with her boyfriend. Her broken body had immediately gone into shock and shed been rushed to the hospital.
Now the doctors needed a new heart.
So, the snow Id imagined a thousand times over became a fantasy I would never touch.
And now, the chief architect of my predicament was asking me for my dying wish. As if speaking it would magically make him capable of granting it.
I let out a soft, mocking laugh. Seeing the desperate, unyielding look on Pierces face, I gave a flippant answer.
Honeysuckle Jam, then.
Pierce blinked, confused, then said quietly, Honeysuckle Jam. Mom loves that, too.
You two are the only ones who like sweets, though. Willa wont touch it. Says its too cloying.
I curled my lips and didn't reply. I, the bastard daughter, wouldnt dare compare myself to the Vaughn familys saintly matriarch.
Pierce had nothing more to say. He sat a bit longer, then rose to leave.
He stopped at the door, his silhouette framed in the light, and glanced back at me.
Sloan. Believe it or not, after all these years, we genuinely see you as family.
I snorted.
Family. The word was a horror movie soundtrack. I hoped I would never be reborn, just to avoid running into a family like this again.
2
For as long as I could remember, I knew the shame of my existence in the Vaughn house.
I always hunched my shoulders, trying to minimize my presence, to become a shadow in the elegant corners.
But that didn't stop me from envying Willa.
She was sick from birth, practically living in the hospital.
When she was in crisis, Mrs. Vaughn would sit by her bedside all night, chanting and turning her prayer beads. Mr. Vaughn would drop everything to fly home and just see her. Pierce and Reid would scramble to find the newest toys and gadgets just to coax a single smile.
Her room was a riot of fresh flowers and plush animals. Her supply of love was infinite.
And I, minutes after having my blood drawn, would hide in the room next door, listening to the silver chime of her laughter.
The blood loss left me weak and nauseous.
But I wasn't allowed the privilege of expressing my suffering as she did. When she was happy, she laughed loudly. When she was upset, she pouted and cried. When she was in pain, she wept. Every tear she shed earned her double the affection.
My tears, my pain, were an inconvenience. My happiness was always ill-timed.
To the Vaughn family, her life was precious.
Mine, it seemed, was only meant to exist for the sake of hers.
It was Reid Vaughn, the second son, who reminded me of this constantly.
He hated me the most in the entire family. Moving my room to the suffocating attic was his idea. From grade school to college, he tirelessly educated anyone who would listen about my status as the illegitimate daughter.
Thanks to him, I had very few peaceful moments growing up.
His favorite line, delivered with a cool, cruel smile, was always:
Your usefulness to Willa is the single greatest purpose and value you will ever have, Sloan. You should be grateful.
Later, perhaps because Willas condition stabilized, he unexpectedly softened toward me.
One day, I was carrying a stack of heavy old books down from the attic and nearly tripped on the staircase.
He was right below and, without thinking, reached out and steadied me. He even asked if I was okay.
When I said I was fine, he hesitated, then asked if I wanted to move my things out of the attic.
That night, I was too terrified to sleep, wondering what kind of terrible prank he was setting up for me.
Thankfully, Willa had another health scare and was admitted to the hospital. Reid reverted to his old self, finally stopping those strange, unsettling looks.
Yet, when I was dragged back to the City and sent to the hospital for my final rounds of testing, he stayed by my side the entire time. His head was bowed, he never looked at me, but his hand was shaking violently.
Even now, while I was confined here waiting for the operation, he hadnt once come in to warn me to be docile and cooperative.
I shook my head, clearing him from my mind.
Instead, I focused on the black cashmere scarf in my hands. I held it up, admiring the progress.
Just a little more.
I should be able to finish it on the day of the surgery.
I only hoped that the person who received this gift would have the opportunity to make it through the winter I wouldn't see.
3
Later that evening, Pierce had his assistant deliver a jar of Honeysuckle Jam.
A big, beautiful glass canister.
I had just managed to twist off the lid when my door was flung open violently.
The next second, the jar was knocked out of my hand and shattered on the floor.
Reids voice, thick with rage, exploded in the room.
What did you say to Willa?
She wont agree to the surgery now! She was fine when she left her room, but after she saw you, she had a meltdown! Did you say something to upset her?!
I stared at the thick, golden jam spreading across the clean white tile floor for a long, quiet moment.
Then, I lifted my head, meeting his frantic, bloodshot eyes. My voice was eerily calm, even to my own ears.
Yes.
I told her I didnt want to die. Is there a problem with that?
It was the unvarnished truth of my heart, but to a Vaughn, it was treason.
Reid froze completely.
I smiled, my eyes locked on his, and spoke with deliberate, measured cruelty. I told her I was only twenty-seven, that I was too young, and that I didnt want to die.
Are you satisfied now, Reid?
All the color drained from his face. He stared at me, speechless.
After a moment, he wrenched his gaze away and stumbled backward, practically sprinting out of the room without even closing the door behind him.
The silence returned, leaving only the cloying, almost bitter scent of the ruined honeysuckle.
I had lied to him.
Willa had indeed been wheeled into my room that day, with Pierce in attendance, his eyes giving me constant, silent warnings.
Willa believed I was in the hospital for an emergency appendectomy.
Her face was pale, but she spoke to Pierce with a playful, almost childlike complaint.
Big Brother, you didnt even tell me Sloan was here for surgery! Good thing Im smart and saw you sneaking up the private elevator.
Pierce gently stroked her hair, his voice soft. Im sorry, sweetheart. My fault. I apologize.
Willa then turned to me, smiling. Sloan, an appendix is nothing. Dont be scared.
Her smile faded then. She lowered her eyes.
Its not like me. I have to have a heart transplant in a few days. Theyll take my heart out that must be awful, right?
I stood there, lifting my hand to my chest, touching the spot where my strong, healthy heart was currently beating with furious energy.
Yes.
Having your heart taken out must be awful.
Im terrified, too.
She had left that day smiling brightly. I had no idea why she was suddenly refusing the surgery now, making Reid run in here like a rabid dog.
He was the most fiercely protective of Willa in the entire family. He would literally fight anyone who dared to make her cry.
I had to admit itWilla had won the birth lottery.
If there was a next life, I prayed I wouldn't draw a script this rotten again.
I sighed and slowly walked to the mess on the floor.
I crouched down, dipped a finger into the sticky jam, and put it in my mouth.
Sweet. So incredibly sweet.
I licked my lips, looking at the pool of amber preserve. My voice was a soft whisper of regret.
Too bad I wont get to taste this again.
4
Willa came to my room again the night before the surgery.
A nurses aide pushed her wheelchair.
Her lips were dark, and she had an oxygen tube clipped to her nose.
It took her a while to catch her breath before she spoke. Sloan, tomorrow is the surgery. Im scared.
I didn't reply, my knitting needles clicking steadily, working on the last few rows of the scarf.
Time was running out.
She didn't seem to need an answer. Her eyes were fixed on me as she spoke in a soft voice.
Sloan, do you do you hate me?
Were both Vaughn children, and we were often sick at the same time. But Mom, Dad, and my brothers were always with me.
And you here
The steel needle in my hand paused, and I suddenly missed a loop.
She bowed her head, and I couldnt see her expression, only hear the rattling sound of her breathing.
No.
I corrected the missed stitch. Theres nothing to hate you for.
You just got used to it.
I was first taken to the hospital for blood draws when I was five.
At that age, my concept of 'home' hadn't been completely crushed yet. I naively believed that if I helped my sister, I would finally be accepted into the family.
So, when I was discharged, the first thing I did was cautiously reach out and take Mrs. Vaughns cold hand.
I whispered, Mom.
I dont remember her exact expression that day.
I only remember her telling me to go back and learn some manners.
That was when I understood. Willa and I existed in entirely different universes.
Later, as the blood draws became more frequent, they didnt hurt as much.
And later still, when they took my kidney, they granted me a small measure of privilege. I was moved out of the attic into a slightly nicer room, and I was given special, gourmet recovery meals for a few days.
Not a single person, from beginning to end, told me the surgical details, or asked if I was willing.
I got used to being taken from.
I got used to preparing, with every critical prognosis for Willa, for the possibility that another part of my body might be claimed.
I was only deeply, completely sorry that I wouldn't get to see the snow in Montana.
5
Twelve hours before the operation, my scarf was finally finished.
The black cashmere yarn, which I had chosen specifically, should complement his complexion beautifully.
I smiled faintly, folding the scarf neatly and placing it on the bedside table.
My gaze fell on the jar of Honeysuckle Jam next to it.
It wasn't the fancy glass canister Pierce had sent, but a simple, store-bought jar. It looked like a high-quality product.
I didnt know who had put it there. I only knew it appeared on my nightstand the moment I woke up.
That morning, Mrs. Vaughn came to see me.
She sat on the edge of my bed, her fingers twisting the prayer beads, and took my hand.
She looked utterly exhausted.
Every time Willa was hospitalized, Mrs. Vaughn would keep an all-night vigil at her beloved daughters bedside, staying awake for days. This time was no exception.
She stared at me blankly for a long time. Finally, her eyes landed on the jam.
You like Honeysuckle Jam, too?
I nodded.
Her eyes instantly flooded with tears. Large, heavy drops rolled down her cheeks without warning.
Its so strange. Pierce told me you liked it, but I didnt believe him.
Willa is actually allergic to honeysuckle
The last sentence was a mere whisper.
Her tears flowed faster, and her grip on my hand tightened unconsciously, her nails almost digging into my skin.
After a long pause, she regained her composure, looking at me. Sloan, I have failed you. I wont deny the sins Ive committed.
But I am a mother. I would rather die myself than fail to save my child.
I gently pulled my hand from hers and offered a faint, tired smile. I know. Willa is truly blessed to have you as a mother.
I meant it.
Willa was blessed.
She had a mother willing to give everything for her.
She had a family who cherished her like a rare jewel.
Evelyn was silent for a moment. When you were brought to the Vaughn house all those years ago, I hated you.
I thought, Why is my child fighting for her life while you are healthy and smiling without a care?
But Sloan, the more you gave to Willa, the harder it became for me to face you.
What did you ever do wrong?
I have no choice, Sloan. I owe you a debt that I can never repay.
If you wish to come back and claim my life, I will not complain.
I looked at the tears at the corners of her eyes, feeling a sense of unreality.
For years, Mrs. Vaughn had spent her days copying scriptures in the Vaughn chapel, seemingly detached from the world.
But when distant relatives and house staff bullied me, it was she who stepped forward time and again to chase them off.
Once, I was terribly sick with a high, raging fever.
Through the haze, a cool hand rested on my forehead.
I forced open my heavy eyelids and saw Mrs. Vaughn sitting on the edge of my small, narrow attic bed.
Later, she gathered me into her arms and carried me downstairs.
It was the first time she had ever held me, and it would be the only time in my life.
I felt a pang of profound sadness.
I had never met my mother.
So, until my dying breath, I would never know if her embrace would have been as gentle as this one.
6
Just as the gurney was waiting at the door of my room, and the nurse was doing the final checklist before the operating room, Reid burst in.
His eyes were terrifyingly red. He stammered, telling me disorganized memories from my childhood.
Finally, he couldnt speak anymore, his voice ragged as he repeated, Im sorry. Im so sorry.
I didn't respond, just watched him with quiet detachment.
He stumbled back a step, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders beginning to heave.
I didnt know why he was having a nervous breakdown now, choosing to come bother me instead of being by his beloved sister's side.
But as I was about to die, I finally felt the freedom to speak the words I had always wanted to say.
Reid Vaughn!
He looked up at me.
I smiled faintly. Out of everyone in the Vaughn family, I hate you the most.
His face turned sickeningly white.
I thought for a moment, then added, with a malicious satisfaction, I will absolutely, unequivocally never forgive you.
Even as I was wheeled into the operating theater, I was savoring the memory of Reids ashen, frozen face.
It was strangely satisfying. He looked like he had genuinely lost a beloved sister.
And then, my world went dark.

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