Dust clung to everything at the construction site, the air thick with the roar of machinery. It was just another ordinary day as I walked across the east wing, checking the foundation markers and reviewing the blueprints. Then, it happened.

A metallic click beneath my boot.

I froze mid-step. My breath hitched as I glanced down. A faint glint of metal peeked through the dirt and gravel. A surge of panic shot through me.

"STOP! EVERYONE, STOP!" I shouted, my voice slicing through the noise.

The workers halted, their confused faces turning toward me. My heartbeat thundered in my chest. This wasn't part of the construction.

It had to be a bomb.

I remained still, each second stretching into eternity. My instincts screamed for me to run, but my body refused to obey. Even breathing felt like it could trigger the explosive.

"Somebody call the police!" a voice rang out.

Chaos erupted. Workers scrambled, shouting orders, making everything worse. My legs shook, but I tried to keep my balance.

Then, before anyone could reach me, the explosion happened.

A deafening roar swallowed everything. My body was hurled through the air as unbearable heat and pain engulfed me. Darkness consumed my world.

I remembered nothing from that day—only the feeling of someone helping me.

Weeks later, I woke up in a sterile, unfamiliar space. The sharp scent of antiseptic burned my nose, and the rhythmic beeping of machines filled my ears. My entire body ached, as if I had been torn apart and stitched back together.

I forced my heavy eyelids open. White walls. A hospital.

With effort, I rasped, "What… happened?"

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made me try to turn my head, but even the slightest movement sent a searing pain through my skull.

"You're awake."

A woman stepped into view. She was tall, her features sharp, her dark hair tied back in a precise knot. A white coat marked her as a doctor.

"I'm Dr. Chelsea," she said. "You're at my clinic."

The explosion. The memory surged back like a nightmare. "The… the blast…"

"You barely survived," she said, her tone clinical. "It's a miracle you're alive."

My fingers twitched. Something felt wrong. "M-My face…"

A hesitation. "Your injuries were extensive. Your face was… completely destroyed. I had to reconstruct it."

Her words landed like another explosion. My breath caught in my throat.

She watched me carefully. "I used a donor."

A chill crawled up my spine. "Whose face am I wearing?"

Her piercing gaze locked onto mine. "My daughter’s."

The room spun. "Your… daughter?"

She nodded, her composed expression cracking ever so slightly. "Kristie. My only child."

Dread settled in my stomach. "What happened to her?"

Her jaw tightened. "She was murdered. By her ex-fiancé. Gabriel Carson."

My entire body stiffened.

Gabriel. A name from my past. A name I once trusted.

A name that belonged to my ex-husband.

Damn. I never imagined he could do something like this.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I stared at Dr. Chelsea, struggling to process the horror of it all.

I had the face of a murdered woman.

"Why would you…?" My voice trembled, but she cut me off.

"I couldn't save Kristie," she said, her voice cold yet fragile with emotion. "But I could save you. Her face gave you another chance at life."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her actions pressing down on me.

"You're alive because of her," she continued, her gaze drilling into mine. "But survival isn’t enough."

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Gabriel is free. He walks the world unpunished while Kristie is gone."

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

"You owe her," she said, unwavering. "You owe me. I didn't save you for nothing."

My hands trembled as I raised them to my bandaged face. Beneath the gauze, I felt the contours of someone else's skin—Kristie’s skin.

"What are you asking me to do?" My voice wavered.

Her expression darkened. "You have her face now. In a way, you are her. And I need you to finish what she couldn't. I need you to make him pay."

A jolt of fear surged through me. She wasn’t asking for justice.

She was demanding revenge.

I struggled to breathe as her words sank in. I didn’t just owe my life to her daughter—I was now bound to her past, to her pain.

Dr. Chelsea glanced down at a paper she held. "Your name is Kelsey Walton," she said. "But now, you’re also Kristie. Gabriel Carson is a multimillionaire with secrets rotting beneath his empire. Together, we’ll bring him down."

I stared at her, my heart pounding. I didn't know what terrified me more—the idea of confronting Gabriel… or the woman standing in front of me, who had saved my life at such a devastating cost.

But how could I tell her that Kristie’s murderer—her ex-fiancé—was the same man who had once shattered my life?

Gabriel Carson was my ex-husband. The man who had cheated on me.

Weeks slipped by, and I had no choice but to embrace my new identity as Kristie Gray. Wearing another woman's face, slipping into her life—it was suffocating. But Dr. Chelsea had made it clear: this was the only way forward. Her daughter, the renowned supermodel Kristie, was gone. And now, I had become her shadow.

Every day was training. Dr. Chelsea drilled me on Kristie's habits—how she moved, spoke, and carried herself. It felt less like learning and more like losing myself to a stranger. But the fire inside me kept me going. Revenge was the only thing that kept me from drowning.

One afternoon, while I was practicing the poised, effortless walk of a supermodel, Dr. Chelsea’s phone buzzed. Her face darkened as she glanced at the screen before stepping away to take the call. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but her sharp, hushed voice was impossible to ignore.

When she returned, her expression was unreadable. "An opportunity has come up."

I wiped my damp palms on my dress. "What kind of opportunity?"

"Gabriel is hosting an exclusive auction. Private guest list. My assistant, Calvin, secured a VIP pass for you. He knows everything and can be trusted."

Hearing Gabriel’s name made my stomach tighten. I already knew what she wanted. "And you expect me to go?"

She met my gaze, unwavering. "You're Kristie now. He won’t be able to ignore you."

---

The night of the auction, I arrived in a deep blue gown that shimmered under the chandeliers. Every inch of me—my posture, my makeup, the tilt of my chin—had been designed to be flawless. I no longer felt like myself.

I felt like her.

As I stepped inside, murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers trailing behind me. Ignoring them, I scanned the lavish room until my eyes locked onto him.

Gabriel Carson.

He was effortlessly charming, his smile perfectly curated as he entertained his guests. The sight of him made my blood boil. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to lash out.

Then, he turned and saw me.

For the briefest moment, shock flickered in his eyes before he masked it with feigned confusion. I steadied my breathing, lifted my chin, and strode toward him.

“E-Kristie?” His voice faltered, barely above a whisper.

I let a smirk play on my lips. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Gabriel."

He swallowed, his polished exterior cracking. "I… I wasn’t expecting you."

Without another word, I raised my hand and struck him across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed, but the crowd around us remained oblivious. Gabriel staggered slightly, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t retaliate.

"That was for everything you’ve done," I said, voice low and venomous.

He didn’t respond. The suffocating silence between us was louder than any words. I turned sharply and disappeared into the sea of guests before he could recover.

---

Once the auction commenced, I slipped away, navigating the hallways toward his private office. Dr. Chelsea had told me there might be something valuable hidden inside—something that could expose him.

The room was pristine, too perfectly arranged. My pulse hammered as I rifled through drawers, scanning files. There had to be proof, something tangible—

Footsteps.

I froze, ducking behind a curtain just as the door creaked open.

"You told me she was dead!" a woman’s voice hissed.

Janette. His assistant.

"You swore Kelsey was gone, Gabriel! This isn’t possible! There’s no way she survived!"

My lungs seized. She was talking about me.

"Lower your damn voice," Gabriel snapped. "Do you want someone to overhear?"

"We planned everything! The explosion should've killed her! Why haven’t they found the body?" Janette’s tone was sharp, accusatory.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It wasn’t an accident.

Gabriel exhaled in frustration. "She’s dead. That’s all that matters."

Janette scoffed. "You better pray you’re right. If anyone finds out—"

Their voices faded as they left, but I didn’t move. My nails dug into my palms.

He tried to kill me.

They both did.

---

As the final guests trickled out, I slipped through the exit, my mind racing. My breath came in short, furious bursts. I needed air. I needed—

The sleek black car was parked at the curb, waiting for me. Calvin was supposed to pick me up, but I didn’t see him. Something felt off.

Then, the screech of tires tore through the night.

A black van skidded around the corner and halted in front of me.

Panic gripped my chest.

Before I could react, the van doors slammed open.

"Get her!"

Masked men lunged toward me.

I turned on my heel and ran. My dress clung to my legs, my heels clicking against the pavement. I had no direction, only desperation.

“Don’t let her get away!”

Adrenaline propelled me forward. I turned down a narrow alley, gasping for breath.

A rough hand clamped around my arm, yanking me back. I screamed, thrashing against the iron grip.

A cloth pressed against my face. The sickly-sweet scent of chloroform invaded my senses.

"No—!" My plea faded as the world around me dissolved into black.

---

When consciousness returned, I was slumped in a cold metal chair, my wrists bound behind me. A dim light flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the cracked concrete walls.

A figure stepped forward, their silhouette hauntingly familiar.

"You should’ve stayed dead."

A low, sinister laugh resonated from the darkness, making my skin prickle. That voice—it was unmistakable, slicing through the fog clouding my thoughts like a razor.

I blinked, my vision adjusting to the flickering light above as a shadowy figure stepped closer. My breath caught in my throat.

Calvin.

The same Calvin who once stood by my side—the one I had trusted without question. His eyes, dark and calculating, glinted beneath the mask as he crouched in front of me, his expression unreadable.

I struggled against the ropes cutting into my wrists, my pulse pounding. “W-What’s happening, Calvin? Why are you wearing that mask? What is this?”

He hesitated briefly, scanning the room with a keen gaze. “A deception,” he said flatly. “I can’t let you interfere.”

His words sent a jolt of fear through me. “What do you mean?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

The old wooden door groaned as it swung open. Calvin straightened abruptly, his posture stiff. He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Don’t speak,” he ordered.

I had no choice but to obey. The masked intruder stepped in, moving with slow, deliberate precision, surveying the dimly lit space as if searching for something—or someone. Calvin remained at the room’s edge, seamlessly blending into the darkness, mirroring the man’s rigid stance.

With a subtle nod, Calvin spoke, his voice unnervingly steady. “Nothing to report.” It was detached, practiced—like he had rehearsed this moment countless times before.

The intruder offered no response, lingering for a moment before finally turning and exiting the room.

The second the door clicked shut, Calvin rushed to my side, slicing through the restraints with practiced efficiency. “We don’t have much time. We need to leave,” he urged, gripping my arm and hauling me upright.

My legs buckled beneath me, my head still spinning. “Where… where are you taking me?” I gasped, struggling to regain my balance.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said cryptically, dragging me toward the exit. I barely had time to react before he pulled me down the dim hallway, his pace relentless.

Distant footsteps thundered through the corridor, making my heart pound. I instinctively tried to pull back.

Calvin abruptly stopped, his grip tightening. “You have to trust me, Kelsey. This is the only way.”

I hesitated, glancing behind us as voices grew louder. A sickening knot twisted in my stomach.

Without another word, Calvin yanked me through a narrow passage and into the dense forest outside the abandoned facility. The crisp night air hit my face like a slap, forcing me to gasp as my senses reeled.

But there was no time to stop. Calvin pressed forward, pulling me through the tangled undergrowth. The uneven ground made every step a struggle, but I pushed on, desperate for answers.

“Let go of me!” I yelled, wrenching my arm. “Tell me what’s going on!”

I stumbled as Calvin abruptly halted, turning to face me with an unreadable expression.

Then his eyes landed on it—the faint birthmark just behind my ear, something I had never paid much attention to. A mark no one had ever mentioned. But in the silver glow of the moonlight, it stood out.

HE HAD KNOWN ABOUT IT.

Calvin stiffened, his breath catching. “It’s real… It’s there,” he murmured under his breath. “The mark…”

A cold wave of panic washed over me. “What mark? What are you talking about?” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened as though everything had suddenly fallen into place. “Kelsey… you’re Dr. Chelsea’s real daughter,” he confessed, disbelief laced in his tone.

Time seemed to freeze. My mind struggled to grasp the weight of his words. “That’s not possible.”

“You’re her biological child,” Calvin continued, his voice tinged with guilt. “Kristie… she was adopted. She was never supposed to be in your place.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I was the one who switched you two at birth. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

My entire world tilted as I tried to comprehend the revelation. “Why? Why would you do that?!”

Calvin’s expression was haunted, regret flashing in his eyes. “Because I had to. If your real father ever discovered your identity, he would’ve used you. He would’ve destroyed everything. The only way to protect you was to make sure you never existed in his world.”

His words felt like a crushing weight, suffocating and inescapable. My whole life—every truth I thought I knew—was a lie.

Before I could speak, shouting erupted in the distance. Calvin’s gaze snapped toward the looming mansion up ahead, his face darkening.

We ran. Faster. Deeper into the trees.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached our destination—a massive estate hidden within the thick forest.

Then, a voice.

A single, chilling pause—followed by the sharp, unmistakable crack of gunfire.

“W-We have to get out of here! It’s not safe. H-He killed Dr. Chel—”