The Coma Prince’s Fiancée novel Chapter 12

Shirley sat in the Jameses’ mansion, staring at her phone as message after message popped up, all full of suspicion and accusations. Her anger boiled over and she knocked everything off her makeup table without thinking.

How could she have missed that Rebecca was in that group chat too?

Just who did Rebecca think she was?

Shirley snatched up her phone and dialed a number. The second it connected, her voice dropped cold. “Rebecca, don’t think leaving Harrisburg means you’re safe from me. Let’s get one thing straight. I saved the White family’s heir, and he’s about to introduce me as family—as his honorary sister. If I say the word, he’ll wipe you and that disgusting family of yours off the map, no questions asked!”

Rebecca didn’t even bother to look up. “So, I hear you donated blood to the White heir. Here’s something I’m curious about. With aplastic anemia on your record,” Rebecca said, “where did you get blood to spare?”

The color drained from Shirley’s face, her eyes going wide. She hung up, almost in panic.

Rebecca listened to the silence on the line, her lips twitching into the hint of a smirk.

Looks like something’s not adding up here.

...

The next morning, Rebecca hadn’t even made it down the stairs when she noticed a couple and a teenage girl already sitting in the living room.

The refined woman in her forties looked a lot like Fabian—his only sister, Rebecca’s aunt.

Right now, Jennifer Russell was talking slowly, with just the right amount of concern. “I heard that child never really got a proper education. Her test scores were a mess, and she barely made it into a low-tier program. The Jameses were embarrassed, so they shipped her off to a no-name school out of state—and after a year, she came crawling back.”

“Madonna, don’t think I’m being harsh, but that girl’s basically a lost cause. It would be better if she stayed out of family affairs.”

Madonna’s expression turned stiff. “Dropping out doesn’t mean anything. Rebecca’s smart. She knows a lot.”

Rebecca’s skin was pale and flawless, her eyes cool and clear. She stood tall and moved with a quiet assurance, nothing like the nervous or gloomy girl in the reports.

With a face that looked so much like Madonna’s, no one could really doubt her identity.

A faint smile played on Rebecca’s lips as she looked over at Sophia, whose hostility was written all over her face. “Maybe I’m not as educated as some, but even I know that age doesn’t excuse bad manners. At home, they call it being ‘blunt.’ Do that outside and people start questioning your parents, wondering if they ever taught you basic respect.”

Sophia’s cheeks burned bright red and Jennifer jumped to her feet, hand raised as if to put Rebecca in her place.

Before she could do anything, Rebecca’s arm shot out and she grabbed Jennifer’s wrist, holding her with no effort at all.

Jennifer glared, getting ready to pull away, but Rebecca just looked at her calmly. Rebecca held her wrist steady and met her eyes. “You’re seriously ill—and you already know what it is. Stop wasting time and start treatment.”