The clock on the wall ticked slowly. I sat on the edge of the bed, wearing the silk nightgown one of the maids had left earlier. My hands were cold. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner.
Then I heard the door open.
I looked up quickly. Damien walked in. He didn't say anything at first. He just looked at me. He didn't look angry. He didn't look distant. He looked… calm. He was always calm and collected. It didn't matter the chaos that was brewing inside of me. He always kept his cool.
He walked slowly toward the bed and sat down beside me.
I held my breath.
I didn't know what he had come to do. Maybe he was here to give me new orders. I could only dead what was to come.
Or perhaps, was he going to tell me something new that his dead wife used to do, that he would like me to adopt?
Everything seemed to be about her. The woman I apparently looked like. The woman I was supposed to replace. But tonight, his eyes didn't hold that same sadness. There was something else in them. I didn't know what.
He looked straight at me and said, "I don't want to pretend tonight."
I frowned. "Pretend?"
"I don't want to talk about her," he said, his voice low. "I don't want to act like you'll eventually become her. I don't want to believe that if you stay long enough, you'll somehow remember her life, her laughter, her sighs…like you can become her."
I stared at him.
He was serious. For the first time, it felt like he saw me. Not her.
"I want to get to know you, Ava," he said. But he wasn't exactly soft. He just wanted to know me.
My lips parted slightly. I was not expecting this.
"Me?" I whispered.
"Yes." He nodded. "You. Who you are. Why you're here. What made you sign that contract. Everything that led you here after you received the offer of the contract marriage."
I looked away. No one had asked me anything concerning myself since I came here. I didn't think he'd ever care.
"I worked at a diner," I said slowly. "Mr. Garrett's Diner. I was a waitress."
He didn't interrupt.
"I worked long hours. Morning to night. I didn't have any savings. But my little sister, Lily, she's sick. Her hospital bills were rising. We lived in a small, broken apartment. On some days, the roof leaked when it rained."
He was still listening. Really listening.
"When I got the contract… I didn't understand it. Not really. But the money was enough to pay for Emily's surgery. Enough to move into a better house. It was too much to say no to."
His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was thinking deeply.
"I was desperate," I said. "And when you're desperate, you'll sign anything. Even without a lawyer by your side."
He nodded. "And how did I find you, Ava?"
I looked at him. "That's what I don't understand. Was it all just… luck?"
He leaned back a little, hands resting on the bed.
"I had men searching for her replica. Anyone who looked like her," he said plainly. "For a year."
"A year?" I echoed.
"Yes. After she died."
My chest tightened.
"I gave them one job—find someone who looks exactly like her," he said.
My throat went dry.
"And they did," he continued. "They found you. They followed you, studied your life. Then they gave you the contract."
I blinked. Slowly.
He had planned this. It was a coincidence that I looked like her, but it was not a coincidence that the offer hand landed in my hands.
For a whole year.
I suddenly felt like a piece of a puzzle he had been building. I wasn't special. I was just… found. Like a lost object.
"You sent people after me?" I asked, my voice thin.
He nodded. "Only because you are her replica."
"You knew everything about me before I ever met you?"
"Not everything. Just what I needed to know," he said simply.
I didn't know what to say. My hands trembled a little. My heart beat faster. I wanted to say he was obsessed, but I couldn't say that to his face. Not when he was sitting right there, watching every breath I took.
"I see," I whispered.
For a long time, neither of us said anything.
Then, suddenly, Damien turned to me again. His eyes had changed. They were darker now. His jaw tightened. His lips curved slightly into a smile—but not a warm one.
"She used to love when I came to her at night," he said.
My breath caught in my throat.
"She loved how I touched her. How we made love. She would sigh into my ears, like music."
I stared at him.
"I wonder…" he leaned closer, "Will you sigh in my ears when I make love to you tonight?"
My whole body froze.
The room seemed to grow smaller. The walls closer. My throat dried up and my skin burned.
I didn't know what to say.
I didn't even know what I felt.
Was it the thrill of the thought of being made love to Damien Virelli or anger that he simply saw me as a replacement for someone he used to make love to?
I wanted to scream, I'm not her!
But I stayed quiet.
I stared at him, and he stared at me.
There was no shame in his eyes. No hesitation.
He wanted what he wanted. Maybe it would have felt different if he hadn't said it that way.
Maybe if he'd tried to seduce me and get me into his bed, it'd been better.
And now I wasn't sure if tonight was about me… or still about her.
He reached for my hand.
I flinched.
For a moment, he looked surprised.
Then he tilted his head slightly, his voice softer now. "Do I frighten you, Ava?"
I said nothing.
"I'm not trying to," he added. "But I'm not going to pretend anymore. You're here. And I want you."
I looked away.
I didn't know if he wanted me, or the ghost of the woman I looked like. And that scared me more than anything else.
He stood from the bed and walked to the window. He opened it and looked out.
"I can give you everything," he said without turning. "Everything you've ever wanted."
But I didn't answer.
Because I didn't know what I wanted anymore.