The Abandoned Heiress

"We expected a boy, not a girl."

His voice was sharp, cold—devoid of any warmth. My father stood before me, his expression unreadable, his presence suffocating.

"We didn’t want you."

He wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. As if even speaking about me was a waste of his breath. Instead, he turned away, handing me over to the man beside him.

A man in black.

A bodyguard.

The moment my father let go of me, he didn’t look back. He simply walked away, stepping into his sleek black car and driving off—leaving me behind like discarded trash.

The bodyguard looked at me for a moment. His face was unreadable. Then, without hesitation, he reached into his coat and pulled out a gun.

He pointed it directly at my forehead.

Cold. Heavy. Unforgiving.

The world went silent.

This was it.

My life was going to end before it had even begun.

I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to feel. My mother, the woman who had carried me for months, had commanded my father to replace me with another child—a boy. Someone else would take my place in the Singhania family. Someone else would live the life meant for me.

And I?

I would be erased.

The gun clicked.

A gunshot rang through the air.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

But there was no pain.

No searing heat. No darkness swallowing me whole.

I opened my eyes.

The man—the bodyguard—was still standing there. The gun was still in his hands. But I was alive.

He exhaled heavily and lowered his weapon.

"I am not a good man," he muttered. His voice was rough, filled with something strange—something torn.

"I’ve done terrible things. I’ve taken lives without hesitation. But a baby…?" He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Even I am not that kind of monster."

He looked at me again, his dark eyes unreadable.

"But orders are orders."

He bent down, pulled out a large basket, and placed me inside.

He walked toward the lake.

The water stretched out before us—dark, endless, waiting.

The wind was cold. The night was silent.

He set the basket down near the water’s edge.

"This is your fate," he whispered. "Live or die—it's up to the world now."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

I was alone.

A helpless newborn, left to fate.

Would the water swallow me whole? Would I drift away into the unknown? Would someone find me?

Or was this truly my end?

I don’t know what that bodyguard was thinking at that moment. Maybe he felt pity. Maybe he had his own reasons But I think… I should thank him.

At least he didn’t kill me.

Even as I floated in the basket, surrounded by the vast, endless water, I felt my body weakening. My tiny hands trembled. My chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. My eyelids felt heavy—too heavy.

I feel like _

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