Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Summary & Review: Tricked
The day Xylia Schultz walked out of prison, she didn’t walk at all — she was carried out on a stretcher. Her frail, bloodied body was barely recognizable, her legs covered in open wounds, her right hand useless after someone had deliberately cut through the tendons that once held a surgeon’s scalpel. She looked less like a woman and more like the shell of one.
Just three months earlier, Xylia had been set up for a crime she didn’t commit — a hit-and-run accident that left her wrongfully imprisoned. The real culprit should have been Tessa Schultz, the true daughter of the wealthy Schultz family. Xylia had been switched at birth, unknowingly living Tessa’s life, while Tessa grew up in hardship. But when the truth came out, instead of sympathy, Xylia faced cruelty beyond imagination. Someone forged evidence and faked testimony, ensuring that she would take the fall.
Inside prison, her captors made sure she suffered. They broke the very parts of her body that had once defined her — the surgeon’s hands and the dancer’s legs. When Xylia was finally released, it was her husband, Connor Ford, who had pulled every string to get her out.
When Connor saw her condition, he froze in shock before running to her. His composure — the calm and strong demeanor that everyone admired — cracked completely. He cried as he held her, whispering apologies. “This is all on me. I came too late.”
Xylia, who had endured beatings and humiliation without shedding a tear, finally broke down in his arms. She found solace in the familiar scent of the man she loved. In that moment, she thought, “At least I still have my husband, my son, my family who love me.”
Connor, guilt-stricken, promised to clear her name. “I’ll find whoever framed you,” he said. “I swear it.” His voice trembled with sincerity, and for a fleeting second, Xylia’s shattered heart began to heal.
To her, Connor was everything. The heir to the Ford family, yet he had never made her feel small. He spoiled her, protected her, and cherished her. Everyone envied their marriage — the perfect husband and the devoted wife. He had begged her to quit work, promising to take care of her.
But now, seeing her broken body, Xylia couldn’t help but wonder if she still deserved him. Her voice trembled as she confessed her fear: “I’m scared I’ll never be able to hold a scalpel again. I’m scared I’ll never dance again.”
Connor, holding her close, whispered, “Then I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. If you can’t dance, don’t. It always drove me crazy when other men stared at you anyway.”
Xylia smiled weakly, but her heart ached. Connor had always loved her legs — the same legs that were now covered in scars. Would he still love her when she wasn’t perfect anymore?
At the hospital, Xylia finally saw her son, Sonny Ford. The boy ran to her, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Mom, I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I didn’t know what I said would be used against you. I misremembered. It’s all my fault. If I could trade my legs for yours, I would.”
Xylia’s heart softened instantly. Sonny was a smart, mature child — sometimes too mature — and his words during the trial had unknowingly become the key evidence used to convict her. But she couldn’t blame him. He was just a boy. She stroked his hair and whispered, “I’m not mad at you.”
Through hiccups, Sonny promised, “Then let me be your legs. I’ll run for you. I’ll see the world for you.”
Those words pierced her heart. Even in her pain, she felt blessed — blessed to have a son and husband who hadn’t abandoned her. She thought, “I didn’t get much love from the family I was born into, but the family I built for myself has been warm.”
After surgery, Xylia drifted in and out of consciousness. Her body was numb — she couldn’t feel her hand or legs. The doctors had warned that the damage might be permanent. She tried to call out for Connor or Sonny, but her throat was too dry. Then she heard voices outside her hospital door.
It was Sonny’s voice.
“Dad, Mom looks so pitiful right now. The doctor said she’ll never dance again, and she can’t hold a scalpel steady anymore.”
The words made Xylia’s chest ache, but what came next shattered her completely.
“Dad, didn’t we go too far?” Sonny whispered. “Making up false testimony to frame Mom, just to protect Tessa?”
The world froze.
Xylia’s heart stopped as she strained to hear. She thought she must have imagined it, but then Connor’s calm, cold voice answered: “Tessa is a principal dancer. Her record can’t have a blemish. As for Xylia, she stole Tessa’s place as the real Schultz daughter all these years and left Tessa to grow up an orphan. This is her debt. And besides,” he added cruelly, “she married me. What more could she want?”
Xylia’s breathing grew shallow. It was them. Her husband and her son — the two people she trusted most — had set her up.
Tears welled in her eyes as she bit her lip, forcing herself to stay silent. “I was switched at birth,” she thought. “How could I have stolen Tessa’s life? And Connor — how could you change like this? Were all your vows, all your love, just lies?”
Then came Sonny’s voice again, casual and chilling. “Mom kept picking fights with Tessa. It’s about time she learned her lesson. We’ll make it up to her later.”
Later? Xylia thought bitterly. What ‘later’ do I even have left?
Connor’s tone turned sharp. “She can’t go back to the Schultz family. And with her body wrecked, she’ll never leave us anyway.” Then, to Xylia’s horror, his voice lightened. “Sonny, you like Tessa, don’t you? Now that Xylia’s out of the way, you can see her as much as you want.”
Sonny laughed softly. “Of course. Mom was always so annoying. She never wanted me to talk to Tessa. Guess that’s what happens when someone doesn’t go to school — they get insecure and jealous.”
Each word stabbed into Xylia’s chest. Her son — her sweet, mature boy — had helped destroy her. The same boy who had promised to “run for her” now mocked her behind the door.
Lying there, tears streaming down her face, Xylia realized that the pain of betrayal was worse than any torture she had endured in prison. The people she loved the most had planned her downfall, ruined her body, and justified it as a way to protect Tessa.
Every whisper outside that door stripped away another piece of her soul.
When Connor said coldly, “She’ll never leave us anyway,” Xylia understood — they had never planned to let her heal, only to keep her broken and dependent.
And as the last bit of light faded from her eyes, she swore to herself:
If she ever found a way to stand again, she would make them all pay.
