Chasing Freedom

I was the fake heiress of a billionaire family. When the real daughter finally returned, everyone waited for me to lose my mind and fight for their affection.

Instead, I packed my bags with record speed. I can finally leave? Oh my god, thank you. Thank you so much.

The real heiress stared at me in shock. "You don't hate me?"

I patted her shoulder. "Girl, do you have any idea what the rules are in this house?"

"Six in the morning cardio, eight at night curfew, absolute silence at the dinner table, and every single date has to be approved by a corporate board..."

The color slowly drained from her face.

I gave her a flashy wave. "Good luck with all that. I'm off to taste freedom!"

"Incoming call from Bruce. Incoming call from Bruce."

I was slacking off at the office, totally engrossed in a raid on my computer. The sudden ringtone from the family butler startled me so badly my hand jerked, and my character died instantly.

"Miss Jenica, Mr. Collins wants you back at the main estate immediately."

I sat up straight, my eyes darting to the calendar in the bottom right corner of my screen. My chest tightened.

Could it be that day?

"Bruce, is it..."

"Yes," Bruce replied, his tone heavy with gravity. "Miss Lily's DNA results just came back. Your father has already dispatched a motorcade to pick her up."

I shot out of my office chair like a rocket.

In the next cubicle, Gwen was still glued to her screen. My sudden movement made her jump, her eyes wide.

"Did you win the lottery or something? Why do you look so happy?"

"Better than the lottery!" I shut down my computer at lightning speed, grabbing the little potted succulent from my desk and shoving it into my tote bag. "I'm finally free!"

"Okay, but why are you stealing company property?"

"I've watered this thing for three years. We have an emotional bond."

Half an hour later, I stood at the towering wrought iron gates of the Collins estate, taking a deep breath.

This is the last time, Jenica.

Just play your part for one final scene, and you can escape this gilded cage forever.

Pushing open the heavy oak doors, I found the atmosphere in the living room thick enough to cut with a knife.

My dad, my mom, and my older brother, Carter. The three of them sat on the genuine Italian leather sofas in a perfect, rigid triangle.

Well, triangles are known for their structural stability.

"Dad, Mom, Carter."

I greeted them one by one, the picture of a perfectly raised socialite.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the manila folder containing the DNA report resting on the glass coffee table.

I kept my face entirely blank.

Inside, I was doing backflips. Which limited edition designer bags should I take with me tonight?

My dad didn't notice the absolute joy dancing in my eyes. He cleared his throat in a tactical maneuver.

"Jenica, sit down. We have some news to share with you..."

"I'm the fake daughter swapped at birth, the real heiress has been found, and she's on her way home right now, correct?" I answered before he could finish. "Where is she? I'll go greet her."

The sprawling, cavernous living room fell into a dead silence.

My entire family looked like they had just swallowed sour lemons.

Carter narrowed his eyes at me. "Are you okay, Jenica? Did the shock break your brain?" He paused, his voice softening just a fraction. "If you need to cry, just cry. Don't hold it in."

"Sweetheart, Mom knows you must be devastated..."

"Stop right there. I am absolutely fantastic." I raised a hand to halt their pity party. "When does my sister get here? Do you need me to help decorate her room?"

My dad's brow furrowed into a deep V. "Jenica, you... you aren't upset? Daddy still loves you, you know."

"Why would I be upset?" I blinked innocently. "Getting a new sister is amazing."

Three pairs of eyes stared at me with heavy suspicion.

They clearly didn't buy a single word.

In the script they had written in their heads, my reaction should have been:

A. A total mental breakdown with ugly crying.

B. Flipping the coffee table in a fit of jealous rage.

C. Passing out cold on the Persian rug.

They had even prepared themselves to keep Lily waiting outside until I calmed down from my inevitable tantrum.

"Lily is coming home. Your status here..."

Carter let the sentence hang, his voice low and warning. It was bizarre. He was actually waiting for me to lose my mind.

Too bad.

I just blinked at them again, refusing to take the bait.

Nobody can exploit me if I make myself completely useless.

Carter let out a cold scoff. "So dramatic."

Then, like a grade schooler trying to show off, he waved a hand at Bruce.

The butler immediately escorted a girl in a simple white sundress into the room.

She was biting her lower lip, her expression a mix of terror and unease. She looked like she was bracing herself for a war.

The moment I saw her face, I understood exactly how they had tracked down the real heiress.

We couldn't call them identical twins, but she was an absolute carbon copy of our dad.

I took a step forward.

Instantly, the family's collective gaze locked onto me, darting frantically between Lily and myself.

Feeling a sudden urge to mess with them, I held back a grin and walked toward her in torturously slow motion.

Then, under their horrified stares, I threw my arms wide open.

"Sister! Welcome home!"

Lily froze like a statue. Her eyes went as round as saucers, looking like a deer caught in headlights. She stuttered over her words.

"You don't hate me? I'm taking your place..."

"Hate you? I'm trying to figure out how to thank you!"

I had barely finished my sentence when a theatrical, rhythmic sobbing erupted behind me.

My mom threw herself forward with the dramatic flair of a daytime soap opera star, pulling Lily into a crushing embrace.

"My poor, suffering daughter..."

My mouth twitched. I silently shuffled a few steps to the side, giving my dad and Carter enough room to join the performance.

The four of them huddled together in a tearful group hug. It was a scene straight out of a prime time family drama.

Standing on the sidelines, watching their genuine outpouring of emotion, a tiny, fleeting pang of loss brushed against my heart.

But I packed that feeling away almost instantly.

While they were drowning in the sentimental atmosphere of their family reunion, I quietly backed out of the room.

I marched up the grand staircase and began tossing things into my suitcase with ruthless efficiency.

The very first casualty was a heavy hardcover book on my nightstand titled The Elegant Socialite's Guide to Etiquette. It went straight into the trash can.

Twenty minutes later, I reappeared at the top of the stairs, dragging a massive Louis Vuitton trunk behind me.

The heartwarming family moment below froze completely. The looks on their faces were pure comedy.

"Jenica Collins! What on earth are you doing? Have you lost all sense of decorum?"

"I'm making room for my sister, obviously."

Lily stood awkwardly by the sofa. "You really don't have to do that..."

Seeing her distress, I walked down the stairs and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Girl, do you have any idea what the rules are in this house?"

She shook her head, looking utterly lost.

I started counting on my fingers.

"Every single day starts with a six AM run. If you're out, you have to be back by eight PM sharp. You cannot make a single sound with your silverware while eating. And if you want to date, you need the family board's approval."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot. On my first date when I was seventeen, they sent three terrifying bodyguards to shadow us. They scared the poor guy so badly he transferred to a different school the next week."

Her face went paper white. She shot a terrified glance at her new parents.

My mom tried to cut me off. "Jenica! Stop scaring your sister!"

"I'm not scaring anyone."

Just stating the daily facts.

Carter was the sharpest of the bunch. He was the first to realize something was genuinely wrong here, asking me exactly where I thought I was going.

"I'm going to be a normal person."

He looked at me like I had grown a second head. Taking a long stride, his tall frame blocked my path to the door.

"You've been pampered and spoiled your entire life. Do you honestly think you can survive outside the Collins family?"

I stopped and gave him a highly mysterious smile.

"Carter, care to guess exactly how much cash I've been secretly hoarding in my private accounts over the years?"

"To be completely honest, I'm just thanking God for finally showing me some mercy."

Carter was left utterly speechless.

Lily grabbed the sleeve of my faux fur coat, tears welling in her eyes.

"Please don't go..."

I patted her head with motherly affection. "Be a good girl. You are the sole hope of the Collins family now."

With that, I gave them a fabulous wave, gripped the handle of my suitcase, and marched out the front door without looking back.

"Good luck to all of you. I'm off to chase my freedom!"

Outside, Gwen was idling in the driveway in a massive black G-Wagon. When she saw my outfit, her jaw practically hit the steering wheel.

"Jenica, are you eloping?"

My heels clicked rapidly against the pavement as I broke into a jog.

"This is way better than an elopement. This is a prison break!" I scrambled into the passenger seat and yanked the seatbelt across my chest. "Drive, drive, drive! Step on it before they realize what's happening."

As the engine roared to life, I took one final look at the sprawling estate I had called home for over twenty years.

I let out a maniacal, supervillain style laugh.

"I, Jenica Collins, am finally free!"

As we peeled down the driveway, I could have sworn I heard my mom screaming from the front porch.

"Stop her! That suitcase is stuffed with my crocodile skin Birkins!"

"So, bestie, where are we going to celebrate?"

Gwen's question snapped me back to reality.

Celebrate.

Yes. A monumental occasion like this demanded a proper celebration.

I rubbed my hands together in sheer excitement. Pulling out my phone, I opened a note I had created ages ago titled 100 Things to Do After Escaping the Collins Family. I announced my plans with raging passion.

"Stop one: Greasy late night chili cheese dogs. Stop two: Loaded nachos from that shady truck. Stop three: That BBQ diner that stays open until 4 AM!"

Through the open car window, the cool night wind whipped through my hair. It brought the smell of street food, an intoxicating mix of fried grease and savory spices.

Back at the estate, every single calorie I consumed was monitored by a private chef.

I couldn't eat anything fattening. I couldn't eat anything that might dull my complexion. And I certainly wasn't allowed anywhere near food that smelled pungent.

But right now, I rolled the window down all the way, let out a massive cheer, and screamed into the night sky.

"To hell with socialite etiquette. I'm going to eat until I explode!"

"Yeah right. With your fragile little billionaire stomach, a few greasy ribs are going to put you straight in the ER." Gwen paused, delivering a strategic and lethal follow up strike. "Besides, do you think William Sinclair is just going to let you vanish?"

I choked on my own spit. My fiery rebellion was instantly extinguished.

William Sinclair.

Just hearing his name felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

Seeing my silence, Gwen clicked her tongue. "What? Did you just chicken out?"

"It's not about chickening out. Corporate marriages are just an exchange of core assets between two dynasties. The most reliable asset is the biological daughter. Who the hell am I?"

I might as well be smart about it and keep my distance voluntarily.

"Oh, spare me. You two grew up together. William's feelings for you are..."

"You're overthinking it." I shook my head firmly. "It's purely a business alliance. He's a ruthless machine. He doesn't care if his bride is Jenica, Lily, or even my brother Carter. As long as the last name is Collins, it makes no difference to him."

Who was William Sinclair?

He was the undisputed heir to the Sinclair empire, a man who had terrified veteran executives at the negotiation table when he was only sixteen.

He took over the global conglomerate at twenty, establishing himself as a brutal, blood chilling force in the financial world.

To a man like that, feelings were probably the most worthless commodity on the market.

Why must happiness be so fleeting?

My heart cracked a little as I stared out the window. "He used to be my future husband. Now he's going to be my brother in law."

By noon the next day, I woke up with a hangover so vicious it felt like a freight train had parked on my skull. I dragged myself out of bed, completely disoriented.

Bright sunlight poured through the windows. Squinting at my phone, I saw the time: 1:30 PM.

Perfect. I had successfully slept through breakfast and lunch. Classic me.

My notifications were exploding with a barrage of texts from Gwen.

"So? How was your quality time with William Sinclair last night? Did you guys unlock any new locations? The bed? The couch? Against the mirror? Against the floor to ceiling windows?"

"No need to thank me. I know you've been thirsting over that man for years. Losing control is only human nature."

[GIF of someone winking aggressively]

"Honestly though, Sinclair is looking like a full course meal these days. I'd take a bite myself."

What?

What was she talking about? Where did William come from?

I dug my fingers into my temples, desperately trying to fish out any fragmented memories from the black hole of my blackout. But my brain offered absolutely nothing.

I scrolled further down the chat and saw a video clip.

The moment I tapped play, I nearly chucked my phone across the room.

Oh god.

In the video, my face was flushed bright pink. My eyes were totally unfocused. I was standing with one foot perched on a plastic patio chair at the diner.

Looking up at the night sky at a dramatic forty five degree angle, I took a melancholic sip from a Capri Sun pouch and spoke in a deep, philosophical tone.

"Gwen, you must remember this life lesson. Love will always betray you. But a double chocolate layer cake never will."

Gwen's voice could be heard off camera, dripping with disgust. "Are you speaking English right now?"

I held up a single, solemn finger directly at the lens.

With my other hand, I slowly reached into my tote bag, pulled out a stark white chef's hat, and placed it on my head with the gravity of a coronation.

"The old Jenica is dead. Standing before you now is Jenica the Great. The woman who will make you wait in line for three hours just to buy her signature cheesecake."

Gwen's sense of humor was practically nonexistent. She was laughing so hard the camera shook violently.

"Oh my god, your main character syndrome is out of control... Wait!" Her voice abruptly hitched in the video. "Behind you..."

On screen, I scoffed, refusing to look back.

"Trying to trick me again? Last time we were at the club you pulled the exact same..."

The next second, my on screen self froze solid.

Because a long, elegantly pale hand draped itself gently over my shoulder.

I turned around in a drunken stupor, locking eyes with a familiar, slightly exasperated pair of dark eyes.

It was William.

William was dressed in a razor sharp, bespoke three piece suit. His tie was perfectly knotted. He radiated an aura of ruthless corporate elite, looking entirely out of place amidst the greasy smoke of a late night diner.

And there I was, foot resting on a plastic chair, wearing a chef's hat, clutching a Capri Sun.

The air in the video seemed to freeze.

On screen, I blinked slowly. Suddenly, a massive grin broke across my face, and I reached out to poke his cheek.

"Huh? What is William doing in a place like this? Am I dreaming..."

I leaned in closer, studying him through a hazy, drunken fog.

"But why is this dream version of William so cold? He doesn't even know how to smile..."

Saying that, my hands suddenly grabbed both sides of his face, and I forcefully pushed his cheeks upward.

I physically dragged his face into a terrifying "smile".

I even knocked his gold rimmed glasses slightly askew.

Behind the lenses, those usually calm, unreadable eyes widened in rare shock. His long eyelashes fluttered.

The video abruptly cut off.

Me: "..."

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the mattress with a soft thud.

I slid off the edge of the bed until I hit the floor, burying my face in my hands and letting out a hollow wail of pure despair.

"Just kill me now."

Right as I was calculating the logistics of faking my own death and fleeing the country, my phone started ringing.

Caller ID: [William the Iceberg]

I scrambled to pick it up, my voice trembling like a leaf.

"H-hello??"

His voice came through the speaker. It was deep, low, and carried a faint, barely detectable trace of exhaustion.

"You're awake?"

"A-awake. Yes." I curled into a ball of shame.

"Does your head hurt?"

"I-it's manageable."

"Good. The kitchen is on the second floor. My chef left some hangover soup for you on the stove."

Your second floor?

A horrifying realization crashed into me.

I looked around. I was in a completely unfamiliar bedroom, decorated in an ultra minimalist palette of black, white, and gray.

There was a half empty iced Americano sitting on the nightstand.

I was in William Sinclair's house.

"Wait a minute! Why am I at your house?"

A heavy silence stretched over the line for two agonizing seconds.

"You had too much to drink last night. You threw up all over my suit, and you ruined your own clothes. When I offered to drive you back to the Collins estate, you wrapped your arms around a streetlamp and refused to let go, screaming that you'd rather die than go back."

"Then you grabbed my sleeve, demanded that we elope, and asked if I was willing to run away with you..."

Me: "..."

"Gwen suddenly remembered an 'urgent emergency'. She grabbed her car keys and practically sprinted away, looking like a woman on a sacred mission. So, my only option was to bring you here."

I was cringing so hard my toes were cramping.

"So... we didn't... you know. We didn't do anything inappropriate, right?"

"You really don't remember a single thing from last night? Do you have any idea what you did to me..."

His tone sounded utterly incredulous, but he cut himself off before finishing the sentence.

My heart rate instantly spiked to a hundred and eighty beats per minute. A thousand wildly explicit scenarios flashed through my brain.

The bed. The couch. Against the mirror. The floor to ceiling windows.

Did we actually... do it?!

Jenica Collins, that is your future brother in law! You are an absolute monster!

Worse than a monster!

"I remember! I remember! I just... maybe the details are a little fuzzy..."

I let out a hollow laugh, desperately trying to cover up the fact that my mind was a total blank.

I could hear the metallic tap of a fountain pen against a mahogany desk through the receiver. Tap. Tap. Tap. Beating right against my frayed nerves.

A moment later, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh came through the phone.

"Jenica."

"Present!" I answered out of pure reflex, standing up straight like a student called on by the principal.

"Last night you mentioned..." He paused. "You want to open a bakery?"

My heart did a little jump.

"Y-yes. That's the plan."

"Do you need venture capital?"

I waved my hands frantically, even though he couldn't see me.

This tiny little business didn't need Sinclair level investment. I had already done the math. The private stash of cash I'd saved up, combined with the limited edition bags I "liberated" from the estate, was more than enough to secure a storefront.

"No, no, I'm fully funded. Just come by and buy a cupcake once in a while. Be my lucky charm."

"Alright," he agreed easily. "I'll be there on your grand opening day."

My eyes practically turned into dollar signs. The God of Wealth was gracing me with his presence.

I could hear a low chuckle through the phone, a quiet, rich sound that held a hint of genuine amusement.

Just when I thought the conversation was wrapping up, he suddenly dropped a sentence entirely out of nowhere.

"What if I said I am willing?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Never mind." His voice instantly snapped back to its usual icy composure, as if that brief moment of vulnerability was just a figment of my imagination. "Get some rest."

After he hung up, my phone screen lit up with a new notification.

A friend request hovered on the screen: [Lily Collins has requested to add you as a friend.]

Her profile picture was a meme of a crying cat.

I hit accept. Almost instantly, a voice memo popped up. Her voice sounded choked with tears.

"Jenica, I didn't realize how exhausting your life has been all these years. How did you manage to survive it?"

I stared at the screen, falling into deep thought.

How did I survive?

By being a coward with zero backbone, obviously.

But since she asked so nicely, I had to give her something.

[It's a piece of cake. (Emoji with a rose in its teeth)]

Lily seemed amused. "I need to learn from you! I'm going to stay strong!"

She followed it up with a [We can do this!] sticker.

I replied with a [Head pat] emoji, casually adding, "My new bakery is opening in a couple of days. Do you want to drop by? Infinite free cake for you. You can eat whatever you want, as much as you want."

Nobody in their right mind turns down fresh cake.

Lily was clearly touched. "I'm majoring in marketing at college. I'm going to write a dedicated promotional post for your shop on my socials to pay you back... and to pay for the cake!"

She sounded as excited as a little kid.

I smiled and shook my head, not taking it too seriously.

It wasn't until opening day that I realized how drastically I had underestimated my little sister's internet clout.

10

The morning sun had barely touched the display window before a massive line snaked out the front door and down the block.

Crowds of girls had their phones out, aggressively snapping photos of the pastries in the glass case.

"It's true! This is the place the 'Sweet Tooth Detective' recommended!"

"I saw the viral post too! This tiramisu looks insane. I have to review this for my followers!"

"Oh my god, I am literally crying over this velvet cake. I'll say it a million times: humanity needs cake like the earth needs the sun!"

[Cash App transfer received: $52.00]

[Apple Pay received: $88.00]

The glorious chime of the register rang out continuously like an angelic choir. My smile grew so wide it threatened to split my face in half.

I had no idea I was related to a heavy hitter.

Lily ran a massive food influencer account with over two hundred thousand followers. My parents had absolutely no clue.

As I counted the cash, I silently repented.

Jenica, you terrible person. Look at this sweet angel of a sister, and you're still secretly thirsting after her fianc?

You are absolute garbage!

By noon, the crowd doubled. My hands were moving so fast while boxing pastries that they were practically a blur.

Even though I was rushed off my feet, even though my arms were shaking from exhaustion, the feeling was absolutely euphoric.

The joy of making my own money, the grounding reality of building something with my own two hands. It was a sensation I had never experienced in the gilded cage of the Collins estate.

11

By six PM, the rush finally died down.

I was leaning over the counter, tallying up the day's revenue, when the brass bell above the door chimed.

"Sorry, we're totally sold out for the day..."

I looked up and the words died in my throat.

William stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp charcoal gray three piece suit. Behind him, parked in the fading evening light, his Maybach gleamed with the sinful glow of exorbitant wealth.

Just looking at him standing there, I could practically hear the money whispering in the air.

Damn. The man I had my eye on really was built differently. That aura was unmatched.

He walked up to the counter, his dark eyes locking onto me. He looked genuinely surprised.

"In all the years you lived at the estate, I've never seen you look as happy as you did today. I honestly thought you only opened a bakery because you had nowhere else to go."

I chuckled, happily stacking a pile of bills.

"Mr. Sinclair, you just don't get it. If everyone in the world is busy being a billionaire CEO or a high society socialite, who is going to bake all the soft, delicious cakes?"

"Besides, someone in this world has to play the role of the ordinary person."

"No dramatic ups and downs, no cutthroat boardroom battles. Just quietly existing in the background, playing a small, happy part in the universe."

William listened quietly. After a long moment, his gaze swept over the completely empty pastry displays. His voice turned slightly hoarse.

"On my way here, I saw someone walking down the street carrying one of your boxes. They looked incredibly happy."

He paused, lowering his voice.

"I imagine it must taste wonderful."

"It's a shame I was too late."

"I'm sorry. It seems like... I'm never able to show up by your side at the right time."