Raya sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, the pale nude handbag beside her, Seraphina's phone resting in her palm. She stared at the screen for a long moment, thumb hovering.
It had only been a few hours since Adrian handed it over.
Now it felt like holding someone's soul.
She exhaled and unlocked it.
The home screen blinked to life—organized, clean, curated for someone who never wasted time. A folder labeled Personal sat in the top left. Raya opened it.
First came the photos.
Dozens, maybe hundreds. Most were magazine-polished: red carpets, charity balls, glittering events. Then came the more human ones—a blurry selfie in the back of a limo, fireworks exploding over water, a grainy beach shot.
Seraphina in sunglasses, surrounded by three laughing girls in bikinis, holding drinks with tiny umbrellas.
Raya swallowed.
Her fingers lingered on a photo of Seraphina on a lounge chair, sunlight in her eyes, smile unguarded.
She looked… happy.
And then Raya froze.
There it was. A photo of Adrian.
He wasn't posing. He wasn't even looking. Taken from a distance—rare, candid. At the Hart estate, maybe, standing near a garden window, hands in his pockets, eyes distant. The light cut across the sharp line of his jaw, his expression unreadable.
The image wasn't labeled.
But it was saved twice.
A tightness formed in Raya's chest. Seraphina… must have loved him. A lot.
And yet Adrian…
She backed out of the photo app, her finger trembling slightly.
Next, she opened the voice messages.
Several were short: reminders, updates, quick notes for assistants.
Then one caught her eye.
'Mom.'
Raya hesitated. Then tapped play.
"Mom… I know you're going to say give him time, but… it's been years. Three years, Mom. And I still don't think Adrian loves me. Not really. Not the way I want. I'm trying to be the girl he wants. I wear what I think he likes, I smile like I'm supposed to… but sometimes I feel like he doesn't even see me."
A pause. A small sniffle.
"The most annoying part is that I love him and can't leave him."
The recording ended.
Raya stared at the screen, throat tightening.
Another file followed—Juliana's voice, warm and composed:
"Love needs time, baby. Men like Adrian… they don't show it easily. You're doing fine. Be patient. You're Seraphina Hart. He'll come around."
Raya's eyes burned.
The phone slipped slightly in her grasp.
This wasn't just a life she was borrowing.
It was a broken girl's heartbeat.
Her thoughts drifted to Anna—her best friend, her constant. The one who knew her before any of this. The one who'd be frantic now.
Does she think I'm dead? Missing? Has she gone to the police? What if Adrian tries something funny?
Raya pressed her palm against her chest, grounding herself.
Would he ever let me see Anna?
He doesn't even let me see my father…
Her gaze fell back on the phone.
Just then, a knock broke her thoughts.
She tensed.
"Come in," she said cautiously.
It wasn't Grigor.
Dante stepped in with a grin, dressed in his usual tailored black.
"The boss wants to see you," he said casually.
Raya stood slowly, tucking the phone back into the bag. "Now?"
What does he want to see me for again?
"Now."
His tone wasn't unfriendly—almost amused—but the weight of Adrian's summons was never light.
As she followed Dante down the corridor, the truth pressed harder on her. She wasn't a guest. She wasn't exactly a prisoner.
She was Seraphina Hart now.
And Seraphina didn't get to choose who she saw or loved.
Only who Adrian commanded.
---
Adrian's Study
The door shut with a soft click. Raya stepped in, tense, wondering—another test? Another warning?
Adrian stood by the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. His suit jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up again like earlier, but this time he looked calm. Too calm.
She waited, refusing to speak first.
He turned slowly to face her. "I'll be away for the next three days."
Raya blinked, caught off guard—as if this was the first time he'd reported his whereabouts to her.
"Okay?" Her expression said what her mouth refused to relay, What's my concern?
"A business trip," he clarified, ignoring the look on her face. "I'll return on the evening of the gala."
Silence stretched.
Raya wondered why he was telling her this, but she only nodded, showing she was listening.
"You'll be attending as Seraphina Hart," he added, eyes fixed on her. "And by then, I expect you to be flawless. Not almost ready. Not close. Flawless."
Raya nodded stiffly. "Understood."
Adrian stepped closer, the firelight throwing gold across his features.
"I won't be here to correct your mistakes," he said. "So listen very carefully."
Her breath hitched, but she didn't respond.
"If you slip," he murmured, voice low and sharp, "even slightly… if you stutter, forget a name, flinch at the wrong time, there will be consequences."
She swallowed. "You've made that clear enough."
His eyes darkened. "No. I don't think I have."
He moved to the desk, pulling out a small black folder, placing it down with a soft thud. He didn't open it—just let the weight of it linger.
"You have two people in this world that matter to you," Adrian said, voice soft, velvet over steel. "Your father. And your dear best friend, Anna."
Raya's body stiffened. She had prayed he'd never bring Anna into this. This should have been between her and him—her father at worst.
"If you embarrass me at that gala, if anyone so much as doubts your identity for a second…" His voice dropped colder. "They'll both suffer for it. In different ways."
That broke her silence.
"Anna did nothing to you," Raya burst out, voice shaking with restrained fury. "Don't you dare touch her."
The words slipped before she could stop them. She never seemed to have full control when it came to her father or Anna.
Adrian tilted his head, mildly surprised she'd dared raise her voice. Instead of lashing out, he smiled—a thin, dangerous curve.
He'd found her weak spot. And he enjoyed it.
"Till then," he said softly.
Then he turned his back to her, like the conversation was already over.
Raya stood frozen for a beat too long, then gave a sharp nod to herself and walked out, nails digging into her palm.
Outside the study, her breath rushed out.
Three days.
She had three days to perfect being someone else.
And not mess up.
Not if she wanted the people she loved to stay safe.
---
The Next Morning
The sunlight was barely warm through the windows when Raya slipped into the pale silk blouse and tailored slacks laid out for her. Everything fit perfectly now. As if the clothes had stopped belonging to Seraphina… and started belonging to her.
She didn't allow herself to think too deeply about that.
Downstairs, breakfast was quiet, as always. Grigor sat across from her, sipping black coffee, scrolling through his tablet. Adrian's chair remained empty.
He'd already left last night.
And before he returned, Raya needed to become Seraphina. Perfectly.
The silence between her and Grigor had grown less hostile, though never friendly. Just… functional. They both knew the rules. Neither broke them.
She ate quickly, mechanically, every movement sharp and measured. She was conserving energy, saving it for what mattered.
Because she was on a mission.
One where failure was deadly—
Not just to her.
But to everyone she loved.