Novel Catalog
Chapter_1
A man lay beside Olivia in bed, his arms wrapped around her, their hands entwined. Yet, as he murmured softly in his sleep, he wasn’t calling her name. “Naomi, Naomi,” he whispered.
Olivia’s heart sank, but she didn’t speak. She just stared at him, her voice trembling when she finally dared to say, “I’m not Naomi. I’m Olivia. It’s Olivia.”
But did it even matter?
Tyler Harris, still half-conscious, gazed at her face—a face so eerily similar to her sister’s. His eyes lingered, almost studying her, before he leaned in and kissed her, the moment heavy with unsaid words.
The morning came too soon. Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket clutched tightly in her hands, her head down, eyes fixed on the floor. Tyler, however, had already dressed. He sat beside her, his expression unreadable, his gaze cool and distant. His sharp features and imposing presence made him seem almost indifferent to the chaos of the night before.
Tyler Harris. The man who was supposed to be Naomi’s husband. Olivia’s older sister. Naomi, the woman who had been Olivia’s idol, her inspiration, her world, until everything came crashing down.
Olivia Jones was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy man, someone who had only acknowledged her existence when she was fifteen. She had lived her life in the shadow of her sister Naomi, who was six years older, and who had everything Olivia wanted: a family, love, stability.
When Olivia was eighteen, Naomi became engaged to Tyler Harris, a man from a prestigious family in Tide City. Naomi’s love story was everyone’s dream. She was the one who had it all—Tyler’s devotion, his love, and the envy of everyone around her.
Then, everything fell apart.
Three years later, just before their wedding, Naomi was diagnosed with leukemia. The illness devastated her body, and despite the best efforts of doctors, Naomi couldn’t bear children. She came close to death multiple times, and the situation grew more desperate with each passing day.
The family’s search for a bone marrow match was futile. No one in the family could help, and the bone marrow bank had nothing to offer. The only hope was a miracle, and the only person who could provide it was Olivia.
Desperation led to a pleading request. Olivia’s father, a man who had never shown her real affection, begged her to be Naomi’s surrogate. The idea was that the child could potentially be a match for Naomi’s bone marrow, possibly saving her life.
Olivia had always been the good daughter. She had always complied, hoping one day her father would love her as much as he did Naomi. She had a boyfriend, Jacob, whom she loved deeply, but when her father begged, Olivia couldn’t say no. Naomi’s life was at stake. Her father’s voice, so full of need, drowned out her own desires.
Naomi’s mother, Mrs. Jones, added her own plea, reminding Olivia, “We helped you when your mother was ill. You owe us this, Olivia.”
And so, feeling cornered and desperate to win her father’s affection, Olivia made a choice. She texted Jacob, her heart breaking as she typed, “Let’s break up, Jacob.” She turned off her phone before he could respond and never answered his calls again.
Within a month, Naomi’s engagement to Tyler was called off. And Olivia, the girl who had always been in the shadows, stepped into Naomi’s place. She became the woman Tyler was supposed to marry.
Now, Olivia sat in the bed they had shared, still holding the blanket around her, her heart racing in her chest. She swallowed hard, finally breaking the silence. “Can I take a shower?”
Tyler didn’t respond immediately. He simply sat beside her, his posture stiff, his face unreadable. After a long pause, he said, “You can, if you’d like.” His voice was emotionless, yet there was a strange warmth in his words that she couldn’t understand.
He didn’t leave right away like he usually did. Instead, he stayed by her side, offering a quiet, “Good job. Let me know if you need anything.”
Good job. The words echoed in her mind. What did he mean by that? What had she done? What was she to him now? The confusion, the ache in her chest, was unbearable.
As she stood up, the weight of her choices settled heavily on her shoulders. This was no fairy tale. This was the beginning of all sins.