Days passed, but it felt like years.

I was trapped inside the grand bedroom, surrounded by luxury yet drowning in despair. The only people I saw were unfamiliar doctors and silent maids who came only to check my health and bring me meals. They weren’t ignoring me, but they might as well have been. Whenever I asked where I was or who got me pregnant, they only exchanged unreadable glances before walking out of the room without a word.

It was maddening.

The silence pressed down on me like a suffocating fog. I had no idea what had happened to my parents—if they were even looking for me or if they had already replaced me with another pawn. My existence felt like a cruel joke, and every day, the unanswered questions gnawed at me like a disease.

I was starting to lose my mind.

A full month passed before something changed.

That morning, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, when the door suddenly swung open. Instead of the usual doctors or maids, a team of designers flooded in, their arms filled with fabrics, makeup kits, and accessories.

"What’s going on? I-I'm pregnant?" I asked, standing up in alarm.

“Yes, four months."

I gulped. That means, I was in a comma for four freaking months? Because for God's sake! I knew I wasn't pregnant before.

I never loved another man after I broke up with my first boyfriend.

I raised another questions— CRUCIAL ones.

They didn’t answer. Instead, they started working on me—fixing my hair, applying makeup, dressing me in an elegant silk gown that hugged my body perfectly despite my growing belly. I wanted to fight them off, to demand answers, but desperation clawed at my soul. Maybe this was my chance to finally learn the truth.

So, I let them.

Once I was fully prepared, one of them pulled out a silk blindfold. Before I could protest, they slipped it over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.

I stiffened. "W-Where are you taking me?"

Again, no answer.

I was led out of the room, my heart pounding with every step. Cold air brushed against my skin, and after what felt like an eternity, the blindfold was removed.

I blinked against the dim lighting.

An underground fine-dining restaurant.

The space was breathtaking—chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, velvet drapes cascading down the walls, gold-trimmed furniture glowing under the candlelight. But something felt off.

The room was empty.

Not a single guest. Not a single waiter. Just… me.

The eerie silence sent a shiver down my spine.

Then, footsteps.

A man approached, holding a tray with a drink. My breath hitched the moment I saw his face. Dennis Pascual.

My old friend.

What is he doing here? Where is he working?

Shock hit me like a tidal wave. "Dennis?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

He flashed a quick smile, but there was something in his eyes—something urgent. Before I could bombard him with questions, he subtly pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay silent.

Why?

The unease in my stomach worsened.

Before I could think, another set of footsteps echoed across the room. A man, dressed in a sharp black suit and wearing dark shades, walked toward me with an air of authority. He moved with precision, like a predator who knew he owned the room.

He sat across from me, removing his shades with deliberate slowness. His cold, piercing gaze locked onto mine.

"I assume you know who I am," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with danger.

I swallowed hard. Walter Geoffe Montero.

The enemy of W Beauty Cosmetics. He has his own pharmaceutical company but he was always the content of theories that he... is a damn drug lord.

Before anything else, DID HE FUCKING IMPREGNATE ME?

I had heard his name before. He was a powerful businessman—one of my parents’ fiercest rivals. Ruthless, cunning, and filthy rich.

And now, he had me.

The dinner was a blur.

Walter spoke in riddles, dancing around the truth while I tried to keep my fear at bay. I knew better than to trust him, but before I could gather more information, Dennis returned—this time with a bottle of wine in one hand.

Something about his stance was different.

Then, before I could react, he moved.

Fast.

In a blink, he drew a small blade from his sleeve and slashed Walter across the face.

Blood splattered against the pristine white tablecloth. Walter let out a guttural roar, clutching his cheek in agony.

Everything happened so fast.

Before Walter could press the button on his watch—most likely to call his guards—I grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it against his head. The impact sent him collapsing to the floor, unconscious.

Dennis grabbed my wrist. "We need to go. Now."

I didn’t hesitate.

Adrenaline fueled my every step as we sprinted through the underground corridors. Somehow, Dennis had full access to the facility—unlocking doors, disabling cameras, navigating the maze-like structure with terrifying ease.

Who exactly was he?

But I didn’t have time to question it. All I knew was that I needed to get out.

Days later, I stood in front of my family’s mansion.

Everything looked the same—the grand gates, the pristine gardens, the towering walls that once made me feel invincible. But as I stepped inside, something felt… wrong.

I was home. But it didn’t feel like mine anymore.

My parents were waiting in the grand living room. Their eyes darkened the moment they saw me and a few bodyguards rushed towards me only to stop me.

"W-Who are you? Why did you look—another impostor." my father said, his tone unreadable.

"After the bombing… I was kidnapped," I explained, my voice trembling. "I didn’t know where I was. I—"

"Lies."

The word was sharp, slicing through the air like a dagger. My mother’s eyes narrowed, her posture stiff.

I froze. They didn’t believe me.

They thought I was lying.

As if my suffering was fiction. As if the past month of my life had been nothing more than a fabricated story.

I opened my mouth to argue, but then—

I saw her.

Descending the grand staircase, moving with elegance and grace, was a woman.

A woman who looked exactly like me.

My breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred at the edges.

What… the hell…?

She stepped into the light, her lips curling into a soft smile.

And that’s when I realized—

She wasn’t just my lookalike.

She was me.

“I-I had a twin?" I whispered to myself.

The guards dragged me out of the mansion like I was a filthy intruder. My screams echoed through the grand halls, but my parents didn’t flinch.

"Please!" I begged, struggling against their grip. "Just listen to me! I am your daughter!"

But my mother’s cold, piercing gaze cut through me like a blade. "My daughter is already home," she said icily, her voice devoid of any warmth.

I thrashed harder. "That’s not me! That’s an impostor!"

My father only waved his hand dismissively. "Get rid of her."

My blood turned ice-cold at the implication.

The guards tightened their grip, their hands reaching for their weapons. They were going to kill me. My own flesh and blood had decided I was better off dead than listening to my truth.

Just as one of the guards cocked his gun, a gunshot rang out.

The guard beside me collapsed with a grunt, and before the others could react, Dennis emerged from the darkness, his gun smoking.

"Let her go," he commanded, his voice sharp and unwavering.

The remaining guards hesitated for a fraction of a second—just enough time for Dennis to shoot another one in the leg. Chaos erupted as gunfire filled the air, and I ducked for cover, my heart pounding like a war drum.

Dennis grabbed my wrist. "Run!"

I didn’t need to be told twice.

That night, I stood on the balcony of Dennis’s penthouse, staring at the vast ocean that stretched beyond the cliffs. The salty breeze kissed my skin, but it did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside me.

Everything I thought I knew was a lie.

My parents had replaced me.

An impostor had stolen my life.

And worst of all—no one even questioned it.

We drove to his small apartment. He cooked me some foods from which is I didn't know why.

"Eat something," Dennis said from behind me, setting a plate of untouched food on the table. His voice was softer now, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond.

I hadn’t eaten properly in days. My appetite had vanished, replaced by a heavy emptiness in my chest. Every night, I cried myself to sleep, mourning the life that had been ripped away from me.

Then, one evening, Dennis handed me a folder.

I opened it with trembling hands, my breath hitching as I scanned the documents inside. Medical reports. DNA tests. Surveillance footage.

After the bombing… someone had copied my face.

It wasn’t just surgery—it was a full-blown identity thieves. They were a lot. That's why my parents thought I was one of them. Now, my body double had taken over my role so seamlessly that even my skeptical, manipulative parents hadn’t doubted it for a second.

That terrified me more than anything.

"Who would go this far?" I whispered, gripping the papers so tightly they crumpled in my hands.

Dennis hesitated before answering. "Your parents wanted you married. Walter Geoffe Montero wanted you in his grasp. You were actually destined to marry him. And now that you were gone, someone had to take your place."

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. "But why? Why did Walter… do this to me?"

Dennis exhaled, leaning against the railing. "Because you were supposed to be his wife."

The words sent a chill down my spine.

"What?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"You were engaged to Walter," Dennis admitted, his expression unreadable. "That was the blind wedding your parents arranged. But after the bombing, he needed proof that you were really his. That’s why he impregnated you."

My stomach turned violently. I placed a hand over my belly, finally understanding.

Walter did this to me.

I staggered backward, nausea rising in my throat.

"He—he got me pregnant just to prove I was the real Georgia?" My voice cracked.

Dennis didn’t answer right away. His silence was all the confirmation I needed.

Disgust. Horror. Betrayal. It all crashed down on me at once. I felt sick.

I should have been relieved. I finally knew the truth. But instead, it only made me feel more trapped.

Because now… I had no way out.

As weeks passed, my reality became even deadlier.

Walter’s men were hunting us.

Every time we changed locations, they found us again. Assassins lurked in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dennis and I lived on the brink of death, forced to move constantly, never knowing if we’d wake up to bullets flying through the windows.

One night, while we were hiding in an abandoned villa, Dennis confessed something that shattered the last bit of trust I had left.

"I used to work for Walter," he said, staring into the flickering candlelight.

My breath hitched. "What?"

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. "I was one of his men."

The words crashed into me like a tidal wave. My mind reeled.

"You—" My voice wavered. "Then why did you save me? Why betray him?"

Dennis looked away, gripping his glass so tightly I thought it would shatter. "Because I found out what he did to you. And I couldn’t let it happen."

Confusion swallowed me whole.

It didn’t make any sense.

Dennis had no reason to save me. No reason to go against one of the most powerful men in the country just to help me escape.

So why?

Why would he risk his life for someone like me?

I wanted to ask. I wanted to know.

But part of me was too afraid of the answer

Months later, I gave birth to a baby boy.

The moment I held him in my arms, all the pain, fear, and exhaustion melted away. He was beautiful. Tiny. Fragile. He had my nose and soft brown hair, but his eyes…

His eyes weren’t mine.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile as Dennis sat beside me, gazing down at the baby.

"He’s perfect," Dennis whispered, brushing his finger against the infant’s cheek.

And for a while, I let myself believe it. I let myself believe I was safe. That I could raise my son away from the chaos. That Dennis was really the father figure my child needed.

But then—everything shattered.

One evening, while cradling my son—Lewis in my arms, I overheard a hushed conversation from the other room.

Dennis was talking to someone over the phone. It was on a loud speaker so I heard it easily.

Curious, I crept closer, careful not to make a sound.

Then I heard a voice that made my blood run cold.

Dennis called her ‘Shania'. 

She told him about the updates and information about the W Beauty Cosmetics. So for sure she was the one I saw that day.

And then I heard Dennis, “Your twin sister is living happily here with me..."

Twin sister? DAMN!

The sister I never even knew I had. The same woman who stole my identity and took my place in my family.

I covered my mouth, heart slamming against my ribs as I listened.

"You don’t have to worry," Dennis was saying. "She’ll never find out."

There was a pause. Then Shania’s voice, sharp and filled with authority: "Are you sure?"

Dennis exhaled. "Yes. She’ll never know that I’m the one who got her pregnant."

My entire world collapsed.

“D-Dennis, w-why?" I whispered to myself.

Is that the reason why he saved me? FUCK!

I swallowed my fury.

Dennis had played me for a fool, but I refused to let him see my anger. Instead, I smiled, laughed, and pretended nothing had changed. I studied his routine, memorized his schedules, and mapped out every blind spot in the security system.

It took weeks. Weeks of silent suffering. Weeks of pretending.

But when the night finally arrived, I didn't hesitate.

I clutched Lewis tightly against my chest, heart hammering as I slipped through the shadows. The cool night air bit at my skin, but I ignored it.

Behind me, alarms blared. Guards shouted.

I ran.

I didn’t stop, not even when my lungs burned, not even when my legs threatened to give out. I had to keep going.

By the time the sun rose, my strength had nearly abandoned me. I collapsed beneath an old, abandoned bridge, cradling Lewis against me.

We had nowhere to go. No food. No water. No hope.

And then—

"Georgia?"

The deep, familiar voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned, barely able to make out the figure standing before me.

Arceus Montenegro.

My ex-boyfriend.

The man I left behind.

The man I thought I’d never see again after my parents forced us to broke each other's heart when they found out that he was just a bartender.

Arceus brought me to his home, a secluded estate hidden away from prying eyes. He didn't bombard me with questions, didn't demand answers. Instead, he simply handed me a plate of food and watched as I ate in silence.

But I knew the questions would come.

And they did.

“Why are there people out there with your face, Georgia?" His voice was calm, but his dark eyes burned with curiosity.

I hesitated. "I don’t know."

It was the truth—or at least part of it.

I saw the news about it, they titled it as ‘Georgia Wilson's Impostors Lookalike!'. I even saw interviews about some of them and then yeah, they want to steal my career.

FUCK THEM!

For weeks, I lived under his protection, slowly regaining my strength. Arceus never pushed me. Never demanded anything.

And despite everything, I felt safe.

Years passed.

Lewis grew into a bright, energetic toddler, filling the house with laughter. Arceus treated him as his own, his presence a comforting constant in our lives. 

That... that make me fall for him again.

One day, we made a choice.

I changed my son’s surname to Montenegro.

If the world wanted to believe he was Arceus’s son, I would let them. It was better this way.

But I never said to him that he was Dennis's son for our safety. I have no idea if Arceus knew about him but I don't care. I needed to protect him just like how he used to protect us.

"I want you to come with me," Arceus said one evening, handing me an invitation.

It was for a grand investor's event.

I blinked at him in shock. "Why?"

"Because I want the world to know you're mine. I'm gonna marry you real soon." His expression was unreadable, but his words sent a shiver through me.

The event was overwhelming—lavish gowns, expensive suits, the weight of power in the air. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

A voice, sharp and mocking, whispered near my ear.

"Finally, hun. We meet again."

I stiffened. Dennis.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"I assume you've figured it all out by now?" he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Clever girl."

Rage burned through me.

I wanted to scream, to throw my drink in his face, to wipe that smirk off his lips.

But I didn’t.

I just smiled. Smiled like I wasn’t plotting his downfall.

Days later, on Lewis’s birthday, Arceus proposed.

The room erupted in cheers. My son giggled in my arms, oblivious to the storm raging within me.

I should have hesitated.

I should have questioned everything.

But when I looked at Arceus—the man who had given me shelter, protection, love—I said yes. This was our plan back then before everything turned into chaos.

For the first time in years, I felt like I could finally move on.

But fate had other plans.

Days later, I went to file for a Cenomar. 

I nearly dropped the document when I saw the result.

I WAS ALREADY MARRIED.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the paper, disbelief washing over me in waves.

This had to be a mistake.

Desperate, I spent hours talking to the person in charge, hoping—praying—that there was some kind of error.

But there wasn’t.

The marriage was real. Legally binding.

And my husband? Fuck, it's Walter. What they're telling is a damn truth.

Exhausted and defeated, I dragged myself to the parking lot. My mind was spinning, heart pounding with unanswered questions.

I reached for my car door, frowning. Hadn’t I locked this?

Something wasn’t right.

Before I could react, a strong hand clamped over my mouth.

“Hmpp..." I moan.

A sickly sweet scent filled my lungs.

I struggled, panic clawing at my chest, but my strength faded quickly.

The world around me blurred. My vision darkened.

The last thing I heard was the sound of my own heartbeat slowing.

Then—nothing.