This is a nightmare.
This could only be another nightmare. I didnât really wake up this morning and Iâm having another nightmare.
I screw my eyes shut, then open them again.
Lia is still there, staring, but not at me. Her gaze didnât follow me when I stumbled.
I pinch myself in a desperate attempt to wake up, but only searing pain greets me.
My entire body trembles as I approach her again. She continues to stare, but nothing on her body moves. Not her hands, not her limbs.
Itâs like sheâs asleep with her eyes open.
âLia,â I whisper, afraid anything louder will make her leap out of the bed and slice my throat as she did in my most recent nightmare.
She shows no reaction to hearing me. Her eyes still staring up ahead, caught in a foreign land. I run a hand in front of her face, but she doesnât follow it.
Sheâs not even blinking, completely in a trance. Now that Iâm no longer in shock, I can see that her eyes are blank, lighter than mine, as if the feelings that made them bright have completely disappeared.
I slowly touch her shoulder, even though my body is facing away, ready to bolt out of here any second.
Lia doesnât move. Not even an inch.
Is she paralyzed? Braindead? What is it exactly that causes a person to stay in this state without making a single movement?
âLiaâ¦â I murmur again.
Nothing.
But that doesnât give me relief. If anything, the dread and gloom from earlier slash against my ribcage and tighten a noose around my heart.
My leg vibrates and I gasp, thinking Liaâs touched me.
Itâs the phone.
I retrieve it with shaky fingers. The text that greets me deepens my trembling state.
Have you found your mission yet?
My gaze slides from the screen to Lia and then back again, my heart thundering in my throat.
Does heâ¦does the shadow have something to do with this? I type a response.
Does it have something to do with Lia?
You became Lia Volkov for a reason. Find it. Do it. Iâm losing patience, Duchess.
âWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?â I mutter under my breath.
Liaâs head rolls to the side in an unnatural angle as if itâs about to snap. Her eyes blink rapidly and her mouth opens as a long moan of pain leaves it. Itâs raw, deep, and so damn haunting.
I bolt out of her room, slamming the door behind me. My fingers shake around the phone as I run. I donât stop running until Iâm outside.
My heart hammers in my throat and Iâm almost sure the guards notice it, but if they do, they donât comment on it.
I force myself to walk at a moderate pace until I reach the main house. I sprint up the stairs, barge into the bedroom, and hide under the covers.
My hand is still wrapped tightly around the phone as if itâs a safe line from the ghostly fingers I feel trying to peel the covers off me or the marionette strings attempting to direct me to a dark tunnel.
What if Lia followed me? What if sheâll kill me now?
Sweat covers my brow and my fingers are stiff as I stare at the phoneâs light under the darkness of the covers.
The texts from the unknown number glare back at me. He knows something. He said I took her place for a reason. But what? Aside from being coerced by Adrian into this, I had no reason to be Lia. I donât to be Lia.
Then the realization of what I saw hits me like a sledgehammer.
Sheâs alive.
Lia Volkov is alive.
I was barely hanging by a thread before, but now that I know sheâs alive, I feel tenfold worse than I did this morning.
Everything Adrian did to me has been fucked-up, but I thought I was up against someone dead, someone who doesnât exist. But she exist. She . Sheâs right there, in the same damn house while a homeless lookalike is fucking her husband day in and day out.
I took her life, her son, her husband. Everything.
I think Iâm going to throw up.
No wonder I had nightmares about her killing me or attempting to. I wouldâve done the same. If my husband, the man I love, brought another woman to fuck under my roof, I would murder him with my own hands.
I wouldnât care that he calls her by my name or that he only brought her as a replacement. Sheâs not me.
Itâs cheating.
Itâs fucking .
I might have stayed quiet about it before, but now that I know, I canât go on like this.
Iâm not as sick as Adrian. Iâm not a homewrecker.
Bringing out my conversation with the shadow, I know that heâs the only one who can allow me an escape.
After all, he kidnapped me from that birthday party, in the midst of all that security, just for a talk. He can do it again if I lie and say I know the mission.
This time, I wonât go back to Adrianâs side and his sick, twisted games.
This time, Iâll need to fucking leave.