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Winter's Heart
I was preparing to confess to my longtime crush, campus heartthrob Lucas Stone, when I suddenly saw chat comments saying:
"Poor thing, she has no idea it's the twin brother Leon Stone who's coming."
"Identity swap—how fun."
"Lucas is in the surveillance room watching the show."
"Hahaha, I can't wait to see Leon pretending to be his brother, accepting her confession, then exposing the truth and watching her cry her eyes out."
I pretended not to know and said to the fake Lucas:
"Lucas, I'm sorry. The truth is, I've always loved your brother Leon Stone."
"Everything I did for you before—I was just imagining you were him."
"Today's confession to you was also me pretending you were him."
"But I realize now that I can't do this anymore."
As my words fell, Leon's face before me was filled with shock.
In the surveillance room, Lucas crushed his wine glass, blood streaming from his hands as he ran to push open the door.
1
I stood in the private dining room's bathroom, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves.
The person I loved was about to arrive.
The campus heartthrob of Weston Preparatory Academy—Lucas Stone.
Family background, grades, looks—he was a golden boy in every way.
For the most formal confession possible, I'd been working part-time jobs to save money.
I'd booked the best private room and filled it with flowers.
After turning off the water and preparing to go wait for him, my phone suddenly started vibrating non-stop.
When I looked, some junk app had somehow appeared on my screen.
It showed 99+ messages.
A strange feeling washed over me as I slowly opened the app.
Inside was a live stream in progress.
The stream showed an empty room filled with flowers—exactly like the one I'd arranged today.
Comments kept scrolling across the screen, showing how popular this livestream was.
"Poor thing, she has no idea it's the twin brother Leon Stone who's coming."
"Identity swap—how fun."
"Lucas is in the surveillance room watching the show."
"Hahaha, I can't wait to see Leon pretending to be his brother, accepting her confession, then exposing the truth and watching her cry her eyes out."
"The Stone brothers sure know how to have fun. I'd never spend this much money just to entertain everyone."
I gripped my phone, staring at those words, trying to process this sudden turn of events.
Suddenly, several golden comments slid across the screen, filled with excitement:
"Hahaha, I know the inside story. Let me spill—when Lucas saved her from Brad Harris back then, she fell for him."
"She thought her crush was well-hidden."
"But Lucas knew all along."
"I was worried Lucas might actually fall for her."
"But when Leon came back from overseas and suggested this identity-swap livestream game, Lucas agreed without hesitation."
"He even deliberately led her toward confessing, hahaha."
"The Stone brothers really know how to play."
I'd always known the Stone family had twin brothers.
It's just that the younger one had been abroad.
My grip on the phone tightened.
Those words wrapped around my throat like ropes, making it hard to breathe.
In my mind, fragments of my interactions with Lucas began connecting piece by piece.
2
Though my father owned his own company, compared to Weston's elite families with their wealth and power, we were nothing.
Moreover, my lack of favor at home was well-known in our circles.
My mother died when I was young.
Shortly after the funeral, my father brought home that other woman and her daughter.
After that, my stepmother kicked me out of the master bedroom and made me live in a small room in the basement.
On the surface, I was the Winters family heiress.
In reality, I was barely better than the family's servants.
So it didn't take long at school before the arrogant rich brat Brad Harris set his sights on me.
He cornered me on the empty rooftop with his gang:
"Emma Winters, my interest in you is doing you a favor, you know that?"
"How dare you reject me?"
I was held down, unable to break free.
Just as his hand reached toward me, Lucas appeared from a shaded corner where he'd been sleeping.
With the irritation of being disturbed, he looked at Brad's hand reaching for my collar and spoke coldly:
"Let go and get out of here with your people!"
The previously arrogant Brad looked scared, his face immediately breaking into a fawning smile.
He left with his gang right away.
I looked at Lucas with tears in my eyes:
"Thank you."
Lucas walked up to me, looking down from his height, then curved his lips slightly:
"Want me to help you?"
The rooftop wind lifted the hem of his clothes and set my heart racing.
3
After that, I never saw that boy at Weston again.
No one bothered me anymore either.
I began secretly paying attention to Lucas.
I knew the distance between us was like heaven and earth, and I thought I'd be content just secretly liking him.
But one afternoon, I was reading alone in the empty study hall when Lucas suddenly sat beside me.
"The rooftop's too noisy. I'll sleep for a bit. Wake me when you leave."
His expression remained cold as always.
But my heart was pounding like a drum.
Sunlight streamed through the window. Watching his closed eyes, I reached out to shield him from the light.
I don't know how long I held my hand there when Lucas woke up:
"Doesn't your arm hurt?"
I hadn't expected him to wake suddenly and pulled my hand back in panic.
Lucas looked at me, his gaze deep:
"Emma, the fruit candies and hangover pills that appeared in my desk—you put them there, didn't you?"
"And that guardian angel pendant."
My eyes showed the confusion of being found out.
The fruit candies—I'd secretly left them that day when I saw Lucas in a bad mood.
The hangover pills—because I knew he and his friends often went to bars and had their own private clubs.
I knew he lacked nothing, born at the top of the pyramid.
He had the best of everything.
But I still wanted to be good to him, even though he didn't need that kindness.
As for the guardian angel pendant...
I'd heard that Lucas had been in a serious car accident before.
He'd almost died.
So I went to the church, knelt and prayed for a long time, and got it blessed.
Hoping it would keep Lucas safe from then on.
4
I lowered my eyes, pressing my lips together without speaking.
I didn't dare admit it, afraid of not getting the response I wanted.
Lucas smiled softly and asked an unrelated question:
"Emma, do you have a favorite season?"
I paused, hesitating:
"Summer, I guess."
Lucas looked at me, sunlight flooding his eyes:
"I love winter."
"But I don't know if winter loves me back."
In that moment, all the surrounding noise stopped, and I could only hear my heartbeat.
I decided to confess because of those words.
Back then, I thought Lucas must like me too.
But it turned out everything was just a game he orchestrated and controlled.
He'd discovered I liked him long ago.
Yet he treated that feeling, along with his twin brother, as entertainment for everyone to watch.
My phone's vibration brought me back to reality.
Comments were still scrolling:
"Why hasn't she come out of the bathroom yet? Leon should be arriving soon."
"I can't wait to see her crying after being played."
...
I turned off my phone and looked up at the mirror.
A cold smile crossed my face.
You want to see me crying my heart out?
Well, I won't give you that satisfaction.
Lucas, you're the one who rejected my feelings.
Then from now on, let me use you properly.
5
I put my phone back in my pocket and pushed the door open.
I could imagine how crazy the comments were getting now.
I didn't bother looking for the hidden camera.
I just looked at this room I'd arranged myself, thinking how foolish I'd been.
—Creak.
The door was pushed open.
Leon walked in, his tousled hair swept back, revealing that handsome, noble face identical to Lucas's.
He was putting on a good act.
But the feeling in their eyes was actually different.
When Lucas looked at people, there was always a hint of superior condescension—his edge wasn't too sharp, but there was an underlying pressure.
The Leon before me now had eyes that hid the rebellious wildness of someone used to being unrestrained.
"Emma, did you arrange all this?"
Leon approached me, looking around.
His gaze lingered on a certain corner for a few seconds before naturally moving away.
Pretending not to notice his behavior, I looked up and smiled at him:
"Yes."
Leon's gaze fell on my face:
"Emma, you said you had something to tell me today. What is it?"
My eyes flickered as I pretended not to know anything and called:
"Lucas."
I saw Leon's eyebrow arch:
"Hmm?"
I stepped forward twice, guilt in my eyes:
"Lucas, I'm sorry."
"Actually, I've always loved your brother Leon Stone."
Leon froze, as if he hadn't expected this plot twist.
I added a tremor to my voice and continued:
"Everything I did for you before—I was just imagining you were him."
"I originally wanted to pretend you were him today to complete this confession."
"But I realize I can't do it anymore."
"I can't keep lying to myself, seeing him through your face."
6
The room fell terrifyingly silent.
Leon stood there, his Adam's apple bobbing before he slowly spoke:
"Emma, what game are you playing?"
"Do you even know Leon? How can you say you like him?"
I pressed my lips together and said softly:
"I do know him. You just don't know about it, and maybe he's forgotten too."
Leon's expression darkened as he stared at me.
I looked at him, my eyes reddening as if filled with deep longing:
"When I was seven, at Mr. Stone Sr.'s birthday gala, my family brought me to the party."
"Leon smiled and handed me a piece of cake."
Leon frowned, trying to remember, but seemed unable to recall and said irritably:
"Just because of that?"
Seeing he couldn't remember, I felt reassured.
I'd chosen this story knowing he definitely wouldn't remember.
Because Lucas hadn't been at that gala—only Leon had been there accompanying Mr. Stone Sr.
The old man had introduced him to various people.
He'd met too many people, and being so young, he couldn't possibly remember such small details.
But actually, he'd never given me any cake.
He hadn't even looked at me once.
I said earnestly and stubbornly, my eyes misty:
"Yes, just because of that."
"Before the party, I'd just been locked in the basement storage room by my stepmother for a day and night, and it was my birthday."
"But no one remembered, and there was no cake."
"Actually, after my mom died, I never had cake again."
"So I've remembered him all this time."
Leon watched my unshed tears, his gaze growing heavier.
After a while, he spoke with hidden resentment:
"So all your kindness was originally meant for Leon?"
My eyelashes fluttered, and that tear finally fell:
"I'm sorry."
"Because after that, I knew Leon had been sent abroad and might never come back."
"But that day on the rooftop, when I saw you, I thought you were him."
"So I secretly did nice things for you."
"That way, it was like being kind to him, like thanking him for that cake."
Leon looked at me with complex emotions in his eyes.
Seeing his silence, I lowered my head and continued:
"But now I can't keep lying to myself that you're him."
"I'm sorry."
I lifted my head, tears slowly falling from my eyes.
Leon's pupils contracted sharply.
As if beyond his control, he raised his hand to wipe away my tears.
But just as his warm fingertips touched the corner of my eye, the door was forcefully pushed open.
Lucas stood in the doorway with a dark expression, staring intently at me.
Glass fragments were embedded in his palm, blood flowing continuously.
I looked at him and heard him say slowly:
"Emma, come here."
7
I stood still, looking at the person in the doorway, seeming to shrink fearfully behind the person in front of me.
Lucas's expression grew even darker at my action.
"Bro, why are you here?"
Leon shifted slightly, instinctively blocking Lucas's line of sight, asking casually.
"Bro?"
I murmured in apparent confusion, then looked at Leon in surprise.
Leon raised an eyebrow without any panic, even showing a mocking smile:
"Emma, meet Leon Stone. The person you were about to confess to."
Before I could respond, Lucas, his patience exhausted, strode forward and pulled me to his side:
"This ends now."
He looked at Leon, his tone brooking no argument.
Leon nodded indifferently, but his hand reached for my wrist where Lucas was gripping:
"I have no objection, but... I'm taking her with me."
"I still have questions for her."
Lucas glanced at that hand and slowly looked up:
"Let go. Don't make me say it twice."
The cold, menacing Lucas full of oppressive presence—this wasn't the Lucas who'd been acting with me.
This was the real him.
Leon's pupils trembled. After a few seconds of standoff, he was about to let go.
I looked at Lucas and slowly said:
"Why didn't you come? I remember I sent the message to you today."
Lucas's jaw tightened for a moment, then fell into long silence.
I lowered my eyes to hide my mockery and showed a faint smile:
"Did you not come because you thought I'd confess to you today?"
I continued questioning. Lucas's eyelashes fluttered as he was about to speak, but I interrupted:
"It's fine. Today wasn't a confession for you anyway."
"I should thank you for sending your brother instead. At least I got what I wanted."
"Confessions should be for the person you love, not for a substitute."
Hearing the word "substitute," Lucas's eyes flashed with displeasure:
"Emma, I can give you a chance."
"Think carefully about what you just said and say it again."
I glanced at Leon, whose eyes held unreadable meaning, then looked at Lucas, who was suppressing his anger, and curved my lips slightly:
"You're the one who pushed him toward me. What are you dissatisfied about?"
Lucas's pupils trembled as he stood frozen, but his grip on my hand remained firm, making it hard to break free.
Just as the three of us were in standoff, a bodyguard entered with a phone, speaking quietly to Lucas:
"Sir, your grandfather is calling."
Lucas regained his usual composure.
Taking advantage of his distraction with the phone, I broke free and headed for the door.
Leon immediately followed, blocking the bodyguard's attempt to intervene:
"Stay put. Don't do anything unnecessary."
Lucas held the phone without answering, didn't let the bodyguard intervene further, and didn't ask more about feelings.
Instead, he said meaningfully:
"Emma, I'm injured and bleeding."
My hand paused on the door handle. I turned to look at the man standing among the flower petals, my tone polite and distant:
"Then you should find a doctor quickly."
8
Street lamps cast warm light in the evening.
My phone had stopped vibrating the moment Lucas appeared.
The livestream must have ended then.
"Emma, is what you said true? Just because of a cake?"
Leon, who'd been walking beside me, asked this question again.
I stopped under a streetlamp, looking at him in the warm yellow light.
Beneath this handsome exterior lay a rotten soul.
These people who didn't understand how to respect and cherish others' sincerity would repeatedly seek proof of that sincerity.
So contradictory and laughable.
Those skilled at disappointing others feared being disappointed most.
Lucas was like this, and so was Leon.
So I'm joining your game, letting you experience that feeling too.
I thought this while showing the most sincere expression:
"Yes, just because of a cake."
Leon said with a half-smile:
"So what are you after? Many people say they like me for my status, position, money. What about you?"
I tilted my head thoughtfully and curved my lips toward him:
"Maybe I want more. I want you, and I want your sincerity."
I gently placed my hand on his heart, feeling his heartbeat through his clothes.
The lamplight stretched our shadows infinitely.
Leon's habitually wicked smile gradually disappeared.
After a long while, he coughed lightly and pulled my hand away:
"Sweet talk."
I followed his wrist, turning his palm upward, then dropped a fruit candy into his palm:
"This was always meant for you. I'm returning it to its rightful owner."
Leon looked at the fruit candy in his palm, his eyes showing innocent bewilderment.
"It's very sweet. I'm heading home now."
I waved at him, turned away with my smile fading, and strode forward.
After walking some distance, I vaguely heard Leon's voice:
"It really is sweet."
9
Returning to the Winters house, piano music mixed with scolding.
"The teacher has taught you so many times—why do you keep making mistakes? How can you perform at the birthday party like this!"
"If you can't perform, how will any good families notice you!"
"What's the use of raising you? I should never have brought you here."
My stepmother was scolding and hitting her daughter Sophia's palms.
Sophia was my stepmother's child from her previous marriage.
When my stepmother caught my father's eye, Sophia was still with her grandmother.
Later, when my father saw Sophia's photo and thought she was pretty enough to become an asset—the same way he viewed me—he had my stepmother bring Sophia over.
My stepmother treated me poorly and wasn't much better to Sophia.
The only one who could make her gentle now was the child in her womb.
I glanced over and went down to the basement.
The servant's room was small, but I'd arranged it nicely.
I sat on the carpet, took out my phone, and opened that app.
The confession livestream was gone.
But a new one had appeared.
The title read:
"How many days will it take the fallen heiress to win Stone's second son!"
Clicking in, it was a replay of my scene with Leon under the streetlamp.
Comments kept scrolling:
"Hahaha, Leon's being generous! Getting chased and still sharing the process with us! But how is Lucas a substitute? That's too crazy!"
"Upstairs, you're asking for trouble talking like that!"
"Betting's open, friends."
"I bet one month, starting from today, right?!"
"Yes! I'm betting one week!"
"Damn, why are you all so confident about that girl?"
"Leon was obviously charmed just now, haha. Never thought the playboy Leon would show such a shy expression."
"I still think it's questionable. Leon's seen everything."
I watched the prize money multiply under different time periods.
The highest amount reached $370,000.
Rich people with nothing better to do.
I coldly invested all my remaining money into "three days."
Two days left.
I wanted both revenge and money.
10
After that phone call, Lucas seemed to disappear.
I didn't see him at school the next day either.
But after school, I received a call from Leon.
"Emma, I think I have a fever. I feel terrible."
Leon's voice was hoarse.
My expression remained blank, but my voice was full of concern:
"How did you get a fever? Have you taken medicine?"
Leon coughed a few times:
"There's no medicine at home. Emma, I want to see you."
I coaxed him gently:
"I'll buy some medicine and come find you. Is there anything else you'd like?"
After a few seconds of silence, Leon named a store:
"I want matcha macarons from Emerald Garden Bakery."
I sneered inwardly. Emerald Garden