Hearing that line again, the same one from my previous life, sent a shiver through me. I could still remember how I had eagerly accepted his "gift," oblivious to the trap he had so carefully laid.
But now I knew better.
That mansion had been nothing more than a stage—an elaborate setup Tristan had orchestrated from the very beginning. He had deliberately purchased it in front of the media, ensuring that every news outlet knew it belonged to him. Then, in private, he transferred it to me, making sure I would live there.
By doing so, he had painted a target on my back. His enemy—the man he had framed and sent to prison—had come for me, thinking I was Tristan. And just like that, he had rid himself of a dangerous adversary and walked away with my wealth.
A perfect two-in-one scheme.
I turned my gaze to Vanessa, who stepped forward with a radiant smile. "Honey, Tristan is like a little brother to me," she said sweetly, latching onto my arm in a rare public display of affection. "This is a small gesture from him. Don't overthink it."