I Proposed To Him, The Comments Told Me His Heart Belonged To Her Chapter 01

I Proposed To Him, The Comments Told Me His Heart Belonged To Her Chapter 01

The moment I found out I was only the adopted daughter, I knew what I had to do: get married before the biological one showed up.

I kicked open Grant Prescott’s office door. “Hey, idiot. Congratulations. I’ve decided to let you marry me.”

The second the words left my mouth, comments flooded my vision.

[LMAO, the male lead already fell for the biological daughter at first sight. The adopted one looks like such a joke right now.]

[The male lead is literally the one who tracked down the biological daughter. He wants someone who matches his status, and he already sent her back to the Whitmores.]

[Later she keeps trying to sabotage the biological daughter to win him back. In the end, the male lead and the Whitmores destroy her: they break her limbs and throw her in a psych ward.]

Every drop of blood in my body went cold.

Grant tipped his chair back, watching me with that lazy half-smile he did so well.

“Didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t marry me if I were the last man alive?”

I snapped out of it, snatched the papers off his desk, and hurled them at his face. Then I ran.

“God, I was kidding. You actually believed that? You really are an idiot.”

Something behind Grant’s eyes went still.

…

I made it out of Prescott Tower on shaking legs, one heel catching on the curb.

I caught my reflection in the revolving door, pale as a ghost.

I yanked out my compact and checked. Eight million followers didn’t pay to watch me fall apart in public.

Foundation: fine. Lipstick: still perfect.

[?? Wait, why’d she bolt? Isn’t she supposed to grovel and beg the male lead to marry her?]

[She’s too proud to beg right now, that’s all. Give it three minutes, she’ll be back.]

[She’s got nowhere else to go. The male lead is her only card left.]

Cry and beg Grant to marry me?

I’m Sienna goddamn Whitmore. I don’t beg.

My phone buzzed.

An email. From admissions.

It didn’t register at first. Then I read two lines and stopped dead on the sidewalk.

One of the top three art schools in the world.

Three years I’d been trying to get in.

I got in.

I read it three more times. My thumb was already hovering over Grant’s name before I caught myself.

[Too bad. In the original story, she gives it up because she can’t stand being away from Grant.]

[Her career means nothing to her. The male lead just has to snap his fingers and she’ll turn it down herself.]

My hand froze over the screen.

A horn blared next to me.

A black Maybach pulled up to the curb.

The window slid down. It was Grant, one hand draped over the wheel, jaw tight.

“Get in.”

One look at his face and I wanted to throw something.

“What do you want? Regret turning me down already? Too late.”

His hand stilled on the wheel.

“So you meant it. What you said back there.”

I hesitated for a beat.

Maybe I imagined it, but something flickered in his eyes, almost like hope.

“In your dreams, Grant.”

“Even if I were desperate to get married, you wouldn’t be on the list.”

He didn’t answer.

A beat passed. He looked away, and when he spoke again, his voice was flat.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

I was about to say no when he added:

“I’m heading to the Whitmore estate anyway. Blaire just got there.”

That tiny spark of satisfaction in my chest snuffed out instantly.

I got in anyway.

A free ride is a free ride.

Two blocks in, Grant pulled out a dark blue velvet box.

“What do you think?”

I popped it open and my breath caught.

I knew that necklace. Limited edition. I’d been stalking resale sites for six months trying to find one.

I bit down on my smile before it could give me away.

“Blaire just moved in, so her welcome gift should be something decent. Think she’ll like it?”

The smile died on my face.

Something sharp and small drove itself right between my ribs.

[Here we go. The adopted daughter’s about to lose it, right?]

[She’s been obsessed with that necklace forever. Watch her try to take it, and then the male lead puts her in her place.]

I snapped the box shut and tossed it back.

“It’s gorgeous. She’ll love it.”

[Wait, she didn’t take it?? She didn’t even flip out??]

[That’s so OOC for her. She’s definitely fuming inside and already scheming to get rid of the biological daughter.]

Grant watched me for a long moment. When I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through videos like nothing had happened, he hit the gas a little harder.

At the Whitmore estate, Grant unloaded a pile of gifts from the trunk.

We barely made it through the door before the velvet box slid out of a gift bag and landed right at Blaire Whitmore’s feet.

She picked it up, opened it, and her whole face lit up. Then she looked at Grant, hopeful. “Is this for me?”

I stopped walking.

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.

Grant’s grip tightened on the bags.

He looked at me like he was waiting for me to say something.

I rolled my eyes. “She’s talking to you. Cat got your tongue?”

Something shifted in his expression. He turned to Blaire, voice low. “…Yeah. It’s yours.”

Blaire beamed. “Thank you, Grant.”

At dinner, all eyes were on Blaire.

Mom wanted to know her favorite foods. Dad asked about her life before. Grant chimed in here and there.

I kept my head down and ate. The ache in my chest had nothing to do with hunger.

It used to be me. I always got served first.

Mom would always make sure I got my favorite dessert. Dad never made a decision without asking, “What do you think, Sienna?”

Now, nobody even looked my way.

It was fine.

Their own flesh and blood just came home. I would’ve done the same thing.

But there was one thing I wasn’t keeping to myself. “I got into Westvale Institute of Art. Classes start next month. I’m going.”

Mom’s fork stopped midair. Dad stared.

Grant looked up.

He didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

Then his brow creased. “You’re leaving?”

The words came out too fast.

Like he’d been holding the question in before I even finished speaking.

I met his gaze.

“Why? Got a problem with it?”

He caught himself. Paused.

“The Whitmores just brought Blaire home. You take off now, and what does that look like?”

“Everyone’s going to say your parents dumped the adopted kid the second the biological one showed up. You want to do that to them?”

I stared at him.

So that’s what this was about.

Dad was already nodding. “Grant’s right.”

Mom reached for my hand. “Sienna, it doesn’t have to be now. I’m not saying never. It’s just… the timing…”

I looked down and pushed the food around my plate.

The ache spread until I couldn’t swallow.

I didn’t say another word.

Across the table, Grant’s shoulders dropped, just slightly.

I set down my fork. “I’m done. Going upstairs.”

Back in my room, I opened my laptop. My fingers were still cold.

At the bottom of the screen, one line waited for me: Confirm your offer.

Three years of sleepless nights and obsessive portfolio revisions had earned me that letter.

Why the hell should I give it up?

I clicked.

Accepted.