Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 323

Daniel sat up in bed. “She’s Mrs. Campbell. Of course she should stay and look after me.”

Violet’s face looked as though she’d been struck by lightning, tears trembling at the corners of her eyes. “I came all the way here just to take care of you. Anything Amelia can do, I can do too…”

“But Mrs. Campbell is only her.”

It was as if someone had slapped Violet. She stood there, stunned and wounded. Maybe Daniel felt a bit sorry for her, because he added, “My grandparents will be here soon.”

It was a feeble olive branch, but it gave Violet something to hold onto. She forced back her tears, nodded, and managed a shaky, “Take care of yourself, then,” before leaving the hospital room.

She’d come with her heart full of hope, only to be dismissed so coldly—of course she was crushed. Violet had loved Daniel for years. Everyone said Daniel loved her, too—he’d arranged everything for her, even helped her walk again. If that wasn’t love, what was?

She’d just underestimated how fickle feelings could be. That’s how Amelia had managed to wedge herself in.

Violet couldn’t remember her childhood—her memories were a blur—but she’d pieced together bits from what Morgan White had let slip. She was the heiress of the Scott family, one of Elm City’s old-money dynasties. After a family feud, she was left the only one standing. She and Daniel had known each other since they were kids; he’d brought in Amelia, a girl who just happened to look like her, as a kind of stand-in, for her own protection.

If it hadn’t been for all the family drama, she and Daniel would have grown up like any other privileged childhood sweethearts—studying side by side, growing up together, and, when the time was right, marrying and living happily ever after.

That should have been her life—not being tossed out like a stranger.

The more Violet thought about it, the more wronged she felt. Tears spilled down her cheeks, unstoppable.

She was the real Mrs. Campbell. What was Amelia, anyway? Just a nobody who’d stolen her place—and now, her man.

She was Violet Scott. The blood in her veins was a thousand times nobler than Amelia’s. She couldn’t stand the thought of Amelia taking everything from her.

Violet wiped her tears, slowly remembering she wasn’t completely powerless. She still had one last sharp weapon in her hand.

…

Inside the hospital room, Daniel stared at Amelia’s profile, silent. “Why can’t you be more like her? She’s a master at putting on a show, and you always end up getting the short end of the stick.”

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