The Heir She Saved Only to Abandon

I'm the neglected real son of the Duncans, Austin Duncan. By the time my family finally brings me home, the fake heir, Edward Duncan, has already been carefully groomed into the perfect successor. I'm nothing more than a country bumpkin. Edward goes through with a prestigious arranged marriage and becomes the son-in-law of the powerful Cooper family. As for me, I'm unceremoniously married off to Clara Prescott, the illegitimate daughter of the Prescott family, whom no one acknowledges. Everyone looks at me with contempt. I assume Clara is no different. But she smiles at me and says, "Austin, we aren't free to choose for the first half of our lives. But I'll protect you from now on." I truly believe she's different. But when she emerges victorious in the Prescott family's power struggle and becomes the CEO of Prescott Group, the very first thing she does after taking control is force the Cooper family into bankruptcy and bring Edward back to her side. Only then do I finally realize that Clara is no different. The one she loves has always been Edward. Chapter 1 Austin's POV On the third day after Edward Duncan moved into the Prescott residence, he slit his wrist. The cut was so shallow it was barely a scratch, drawing only a few drops of blood. But it was enough to make the usually calm Clara Prescott lose control. She canceled international meetings worth millions of dollars and stayed by Edward's bed day and night. On his birthday, she rented every digital billboard downtown just to display a single message. "Ed, wishing you all the best, today and always." My best friend was livid and told me I was the most pathetic husband he had ever seen. I said nothing, but I couldn't accept it either. I refused to believe that all those years we had spent together had meant nothing to her. With tears in my eyes, I demanded an explanation. Clara cupped my cheek, her voice as gentle as ever as she replied, "You've always been the sensible one, Austin. Edward has nothing now." The transplanted heart in my chest tightened painfully, and I let out a bitter laugh. Wasn't Clara the reason Edward lost the Cooper family? Why was I the one expected to compromise and make up for it? "But Edward doesn't love you," I said. "You destroyed his family, so he's supposed to hate you." Clara fell silent for a beat before replying hoarsely, "I don't have romantic feelings for him. He's your brother, Austin. I only care about him because he's your family." As I thought about the billboards she had rented for Edward and the nights she had spent watching over him, my heart ached painfully. The two of them had crossed a line long ago. Forcing a smile, I said, "He's not my brother, Clara. He's the housekeeper's son. The man who stole 20 years of my life and my parents' love." Clara's expression instantly darkened. "Austin Duncan! Since when did you become so petty and jealous? Edward's a victim, too. He didn't know. I promised to protect you, and I won't go back on my word. "You're my husband. What more could you possibly want? Edward's dying. Do you really have to pick a fight with him right now?" I nearly laughed. How on earth was Edward a victim? He had grown up in luxury, enjoyed the best of everything, and still wasn't satisfied. He wanted people around me to turn against me, too. Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I looked at Clara. "Am I not an innocent victim, too? Edward stole my life, and now he's trying to take my wife as well." Growing visibly impatient, she snapped, "I told you. He's your brother. I'll never give anyone else your place as my husband." I was about to respond when I noticed Edward standing in the corner. There was no telling how long he had been listening, but I caught the brief flash of jealousy and resentment in his eyes. Smiling wryly, I looked down and wondered… How could I have forgotten? Edward had always known how to put on an act. Back when we lived with the Duncans, I was always the one taking the blame whenever he played the victim, and now with Clara, nothing had changed. When Edward walked away, Clara seemed to notice the sound of his feet shuffling and immediately rushed after him, throwing a hurried remark over her shoulder. "You're the only man I'll ever call my husband, Austin. Stop taking it out on Edward." I let out a dry laugh. Clara had no idea that the transplanted heart in my chest was beginning to fail. I wouldn't be her husband for much longer. Chapter 2 Austin's POV After Clara chased after Edward, I had no idea what she said to soothe him. But when they came back to the room, the smug grin hadn't left his face, and he threw me a deeply provocative look. I ignored him, but the moment my eyes fell on the necklace around his neck, my breath hitched. That was the first gift Clara had ever given me—a necklace with a half-heart pendant she had bought at a street stall. Though it wasn't worth much, I cherished it more than the finest treasure in the world. Clara had bought two necklaces, one for me and the other for her. Put together, they formed a complete heart. She had said, "We're both living on borrowed time, Austin. But if we can piece ourselves together, we can survive anything." Now, that same necklace was hanging around Edward's neck. Later, when Edward ran into me in the living room, he idly toyed with the pendant and tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming triumphantly. "Clara insisted on giving this to me, Austin. She said it'd keep me safe. You don't mind, do you?" I pressed a hand against my chest as a wave of exhaustion washed over me. "I don't mind," I replied flatly. "It's just an old piece of junk. Keep it if you like it." I was going to leave Clara, after all. What did a stupid necklace even matter? I returned to my room. The moment I closed the door, a sharp pain exploded in my chest. As I clutched my chest, cold sweat instantly soaked through my shirt. The heart rejection symptoms were getting worse. Stumbling toward the cabinet, I yanked open the drawer and reached for the white medication bottle, only to find it empty. I froze. The medication was special and important—the only thing keeping me alive. It wasn't available anywhere in Crisea. Every single pill was incredibly precious and difficult to secure. Fighting through the pain, I called Clara's assistant, Lily Jones. She stammered and hesitated for a long time before muttering, "Ms. Prescott took the medication, Mr. Duncan." A loud buzzing exploded in my brain. Gathering the last of my strength, I opened the door to the study and found Clara reviewing documents. When she saw me walk in, looking deathly pale, she frowned and demanded, "Why didn't you knock?" I braced myself against the doorframe and asked, my voice shaking, "Where's my medication?" Clara was briefly stunned before looking away, casually replying, "Ed is badly shaken lately. He's been having heart palpitations and trouble sleeping. Since your medication has a calming effect, I gave it to him to help him recover." I stared at her in utter disbelief. "That's my anti-rejection medication. Without it, my heart could stop beating!" Clara closed her file, and her expression turned cold. "Ed's depression could kill him! You just had a heart transplant, and you're long past the dangerous stage. All you need is regular rest. Why do you always have to fight a sick man for everything? "Now, you're not just jealous, but you're also making up lies just to get my attention. I'm really disappointed in you, Austin." I stared intently at Clara, catching the disgust and impatience in her eyes. Suddenly, a memory from three years ago flashed through my mind. After my heart transplant, the anesthesia had worn off and left me shaking all over from intense pain. Clara had tears brimming in her eyes, her expression filled with anguish, as she held my hand through the night and kissed my forehead. But now, she had taken away the medication keeping me alive, just because Edward complained about heart palpitations and a little insomnia. She had completely forgotten that without that medication, my transplanted heart would stop beating. Chapter 3 Austin's POV I started clearing away all traces of my existence from the Prescott residence, but honestly, there wasn't much to pack. I had once filled the garden with baby's breath because they were Clara's late father's favorite flower. To give her a true sense of belonging at home, I had spent a whole month at a pottery studio making us a matching pair of couple's mugs. Now, I ripped out every last flower by the roots and threw them into the trash can. The matching mugs were carelessly tossed into a cardboard box of discarded junk. When Clara returned that evening and saw the nearly empty closet, she frowned. Her hand paused halfway through removing her hair tie. "Where's all your stuff?" I didn't even look up as I packed the last of my books and replied in a flat voice, "They were getting old and taking up space, so I threw them out." Clara walked over and carefully studied my expression. There were no hysterical outbursts or tearful confrontations. Assuming I had finally stopped throwing petty tantrums over Edward, she seemed relieved and smiled in satisfaction. Then, she took out a black card and held it out to me. "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses, Austin. Use this card to buy anything you want. Ed's mental state is a little unstable again today. I'm going to stay with him tonight. You should get some rest." Instead of accepting the card, I said, "It's fine. I don't need anything." Clara didn't think much of it. She casually left the card on the table and turned toward the door. I had always been obedient, after all. To be honest, I had never spent Clara's money. The only time I had ever used her card was to buy her a birthday gift. When the cashier handed me the receipt to sign, I held the pen and froze for a long time, completely at a loss. In the end, I could feel my heart racing with a secret, overwhelming sense of joy as I signed her name on the flimsy piece of paper. For a man who had grown up unloved, that moment had felt magical. It felt as if by signing her name, I finally had a family. But now, as I looked at the card on the table, I only found my past self pathetic and ridiculous. Watching Clara leave, I quietly whispered to myself, "Goodbye." … I went to the hospital alone the next morning. As Dr. Raymond Powell scanned through my charts, his brow was furrowed in a tight frown. "Your heart rejection has reached critical levels, Austin. If we don't perform a second heart transplant at once, you have… three months at most to live." "Is there a matching donor?" I asked. He sighed and shook his head. "There are no suitable donors in Crisea right now, and even if there are, you don't have the time to wait." After a long hesitation, he took a file out of his desk drawer. "Austin, there's a highly experimental clinical trial for a new bioengineered heart abroad. It's still in phase two, and the mortality rate is incredibly high. "But if you're willing to volunteer and take the risk, all expenses will be covered by the research institute, regardless of whether you live or die. Right now, it's your only chance of surviving." As I stared at the agreement, the tenderness in Clara's eyes whenever she looked at Edward flashed through my mind, followed by her cold, indifferent expression when she took away the medication that kept me alive. I picked up the pen and signed my name without a moment's hesitation. Chapter 4 Austin's POV The application for the foreign clinical trial needed a week to process. During that final week, Edward escalated his drama to a whole new level. Not only did he take up all of Clara's time, but he also started actively trying to push my buttons. He would stand at the door of the master bedroom in his pajamas, clutching his chest. His eyes were red-rimmed as he forced out a bitter smile. "Every time I look at Austin's room, I'm reminded of the night my family went bankrupt, Clara. I'm terrified, I can't sleep, and my heart is racing." Worried, Clara would hold his hand, turn to me, and command, "Edward isn't feeling well, Austin. You should sleep in the guest room." To soothe Edward, she had the nerve to demand that I move out of our bedroom. If she loved Edward this much, why had she held my hand at our wedding and sworn that she would always protect me? Suddenly, memories of our wedding night overlapped with the present. That night, she had been blackout drunk and collapsed onto our bed. When I got up to brew her a hangover remedy, she grabbed my wrist and pressed her burning cheek into my palm. Her eyes were closed, and her breath was warm. In the dim lightning, she slurred a quiet murmur, "Don't leave, Austie." Back then, my eyes had welled with tears, and my heart burst with the overwhelming ache and joy of finally feeling cherished. But now that I looked back, it felt like I was waking up from a dream. The name she had called out so longingly that night wasn't Austie. She had never called me anything other than Austin. That night, she had called out for Ed. I calmly nodded and said, "Okay." Clara froze. An inexplicable sense of panic gripped her when she noticed how unusually obedient I was as I turned away. For the first time ever, she lunged forward and grabbed my wrist with terrifying force. "Austin," she rasped in a slightly dry voice. "Just bear with it for a few days. Once Edward is emotionally stable, I'll take you to Iscardia to see the northern lights. You've always wanted to go there, haven't you?" I looked down at her tight grip on my wrist. This was the same hand that used to hold mine, promising to shield me from all the pain. Now, she was using it to offer pathetic crumbs of compensation. I gently pried her fingers off and forced a smile. "Sure." Though I agreed without a second thought, I knew that I would never live to see the northern lights in Iscardia again. Clara no longer had a place in my future, whether I lived or died. Clara looked like she wanted to say something else, but Edward started crying out in pain again. She hesitated briefly before choosing Edward, like always. I looked down to hide the loneliness in my eyes, picked up my packed luggage, and walked out the door. On my way to the airport, I received a call from Dr. Powell. "Austin, your personal doctor, Dr. Lambert, should be with you on the way to the airport by now, right?" Staring out the window at the city blurring past, I calmly replied, "Clara summoned him away. Edward had an episode, so she kept him there." On the other end of the line, Dr. Powell panicked so hard he started cursing. "This is ridiculous! Your heart could stop at any moment. A specialist doctor needs to be with you!" Before leaving the house, I had texted Dr. Terry Lambert, who was supposed to meet me at the airport. But he told me Clara had urgently summoned him back because Edward was emotionally unstable and showing signs of self-harm. She had issued a strict order that every member of the Prescott family's private medical team must remain on standby. As the car sped down the hallway, a sharp pain tore through my chest. My vision went black, and I lost consciousness. A deafening screech of brakes followed as the car slammed into the guardrail. … At the same time, back at the Prescott residence, Clara was worried sick over Edward. He was complaining of chest pain again, and she had even called my personal doctor back for him. Just then, the phone in her pocket rang. There was a call from an unknown number. Frowning, she picked up. "Hello, am I talking to Ms. Clara Prescott? Mr. Austin Duncan was involved in a serious car crash on the highway heading toward the airport. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Please report to the site and identify his body as soon as possible."