I insisted on running closer where I heard gunshots. The mansion loomed ahead, its once-pristine facade now menacing under the moonlight. The front doors were slightly ajar, and the faint sound of voices drifted out. As I crept closer, I recognized one of them—Gabriel.

Calvin pulled me behind a column. “You’re walking into a trap,” he whispered, his voice harsh.

“I don’t care,” I shot back. “If he hurts her—”

“He’s insane, Kelsey. Don’t underestimate him.”

I peeked around the corner, my stomach twisting at the sight. There he was, Gabriel Carson, holding Dr. Chelsea at gunpoint. Her usually composed face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Gabriel’s laugh echoed through the hall, sharp and unhinged. He waved the gun lazily, taunting her. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Chelsea? Playing god with people’s lives. Reconstructing faces, erasing identities.” His gaze flicked to the doorway, as if sensing our presence. I ducked back quickly.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chelsea spat, her voice steady despite the barrel of the gun against her temple.

“Oh, I know plenty,” Gabriel sneered. “You built your empire on lies, on stolen techniques. Should I remind you how you climbed your way to the top, doctor? Or would you prefer I let your little protégé find out herself?”

My breath hitched.

WHAT WAS HE TALKING ABOUT?

“You’re a coward,” Chelsea said coldly. “Hiding behind threats and manipulation. You think I’ll give you what you want? You’re delusional.”

Gabriel tilted his head, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. “Oh, but you will. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure Kristie here knows exactly what kind of monster you are. And when she does, I’ll kill her too. Slowly.”

He thought I was Kristie. Of course, HE did. That was the whole point of this charade. But his words sent a chill down my spine. He wasn’t just manipulative—he was obsessed!

Chelsea’s eyes flickered for a moment—fear? Regret? It was hard to tell. “You’re bluffing,” she said, though her voice wavered ever so slightly.

Gabriel pressed the gun harder against her temple. “Try me.”

Before I could think, Calvin pulled his gun, aiming from the shadows. I grabbed his arm.

“Are you insane?” I hissed.

“Stay here,” he whispered.

And then, he stepped out.

The sharp crack of a gunshot made me flinch. Calvin’s bullet hit Gabriel square in the chest. He stumbled back, a look of shock on his face as he crumpled to the ground. The gun slipped from his hand, skidding across the marble floor.

Chelsea staggered backward, her hands trembling. I rushed to her, gripping her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice shaking.

She nodded, but her gaze was fixed on Gabriel’s lifeless body. “I… I didn’t think he’d…” Her voice trailed off.

I gazed at Gabriel, he’s not moving—HE IS DEAD PROBABLY. But why there is no blood?!

Calvin kept his gun trained on the body as he approached cautiously. “We need to go. Now.”

Dr. Chelsea didn’t argue, and neither did I. We hurried out of the mansion, every creak of the floorboards and rustle of leaves outside setting my nerves on edge.

Once we were back in the woods, Calvin finally spoke. “That was too close. He almost had you both.”

Chelsea stopped, her hands curling into fists. “You think this is over?” she said bitterly. “You don’t know Gabriel.”

I frowned. “He’s dead, Chelsea. He can’t—”

A shrill ring cut through the silence, making us all jump. Chelsea fumbled for her phone, her fingers shaking as she answered.

She didn’t say anything, just held the phone to her ear. Her face drained of color as the voice on the other end spoke.

“Put it on speaker,” Calvin said.

She hesitated, then hit the button.

“Hello, doctor,” Gabriel’s voice drawled, smug and alive.

My blood turned to ice.

“You look surprised,” he continued. “Did you really think I’d be stupid enough to face you without a backup plan? Bulletproof vests are quite the lifesaver.”

Chelsea’s hand clenched the phone so tightly I thought it might shatter. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“What I’ve always wanted,” Gabriel said smoothly. “The truth. You see, dear Chelsea, you’re not as untouchable as you think. And unless you want the world to know about your little… experiments, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Chelsea’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Gabriel added, his tone dripping with malice. “Tell Kristie to run while she still can. Because next time, I won’t miss."

The line went dead.

I stared at Chelsea, my chest tightening. Her secrets, my identity, and Gabriel’s vendetta—it was all spiraling out of control.

“What do we do now?” I whispered.

Chelsea didn’t answer. She just stared into the darkness, her expression grim.

Calvin glanced at me, his jaw set. “We fight back.”

That’s the point. But… how?

“We need to go to my safehouse.” Calvin spoke.

We pulled up to a rickety old house. I hurried myself to walk inside, standing in the corner of the living room, trying to make sense of the chaos unraveling around me. The place—it was functional, cold, and barren of the luxury I had thought defined him. Just four walls, a couch that looked like it belonged to a garage sale, and an air of suffocating tension.

Mom—no, Dr. Chelsea, because I wasn't even sure of what Calvin told me. I stood a few feet away, pacing furiously. Her sharp voice sliced through the silence like a whip.

I could remember in the car, they were arguing about what Calvin did. And now, Dr. Chelsea had the courage to confront him.

Of course, Dr. Chelsea won't ask if he's telling the truth. She knows he is. Calvin got her trust, that's what I noticed.

"Calvin, you’ve gone too far this time! You switched my baby? Who even does that?!"

Calvin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable. "I did what I had to do, Chelsea. You don’t understand the stakes here."

"I don’t understand?" she snapped, her voice rising. "You stole my child, Calvin! You let me believe Kristie was mine while you hid Kelsey away like some... some pawn in your twisted little game!"

I sat frozen, watching them go back and forth like a tennis match. My head felt like it was about to explode from all the revelations being thrown at me.

Calvin’s voice dropped, but it somehow felt even sharper. "Do you think I wanted to do this?" he said, gazing back at Dr. Chelsea, “Jerome—your ex, Kelsey's real father—was ready to kill Kelsey before she even took her first steps! I saved her life!"

Dr. Chelsea flinched as if she’d been slapped. For the first time since this nightmare started, she looked… shaken. "W-What? How did you know what he was planning?”

Calvin exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Because I used to work for him."

The words sucked the air out of the room. I sat up straighter, my heart pounding.

“You what?!” Dr. Chelsea’s stern voice echoed.

He looked at me then, his expression softening just enough to make it worse. "It was a long time ago. Before Kelsey was born. I worked for Jerome, handling… things. Business. But I left the moment I realized what he was planning to do."

"Business?" Dr. Chelsea said bitterly. "You mean his drug empire? His mafia dealings? You worked for him, Calvin, and now you expect us to trust you? After everything?"

"I don’t expect you to trust me now. Yeah, I lied to you," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But I do expect you to understand. Kelsey was never safe with Jerome. And when I found out Don Lucas,” he looked at me, “your grandfather wanted you to inherit the family’s fortune, I knew it was only a matter of time before Jerome acted. Jerome was Don Lucas's son. He couldn't accept that he was not the heir."

The words hung in the air like a noose. I hugged my knees tighter, my mind racing. "So, let me get this straight," I said, my voice trembling. "My biological father is some mafia prince who doesn’t want me alive because my grandfather wanted me to inherit… what? Blood money? A drug empire?!"

Calvin nodded grimly. "It’s more than just money, Kelsey. It’s power. Influence. And yes, the darker side of things. Jerome sees you as a threat to everything he’s built."

I looked at Dr. Chelsea, searching for some kind of anchor in all this. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her temples. "I-I don’t even know what to say," she whispered. "don’t even know how… to fix this."

"You can’t fix it," Calvin said bluntly. "But you can protect her. We can protect her. Together."

"Protect me from what, exactly?" I demanded, standing up. "This isn’t my fight! I didn’t ask for any of this!"

Calvin’s eyes met mine, steady and unwavering. "No, you didn’t. But it’s your legacy, whether you like it or not. And if Jerome finds out you’re alive, he won’t stop until you’re gone."

The room fell into a heavy silence. I wanted to scream… to cry, to wake up from this nightmare, but all I could do was stand there, numb.

After a long pause, Dr. Chelsea straightened, her voice resolute. "But the birthmark you said, Calvin, it might be burned because of the... explosion. We need proof. If what you’re saying is true, then we’ll do a DNA test. We need to know for sure."

Calvin nodded, then walked towards me. He insisted on getting a few strands of our hair and carefully sealed it in separated plastics.

Calvin nodded. "The hair strands will prove. Let's wait for the results."

After a few days, Calvin got the result. He called us to the tiny living room, the envelope with the DNA results resting on the coffee table like a ticking time bomb.

NOBODY moved.

"Y-You open it," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Chelsea hesitated, then reached for the envelope with trembling hands. She tore it open, her eyes scanning the paper inside. The room felt like it was holding its breath.

Her voice broke the silence. "Probability of maternity: 99.99%."

She let out a shaky breath, her hands dropping to her lap as she turned to me. "Y-You’re my daughter, Kelsey. You’re really mine."

Something inside me cracked. I wanted to feel relief, joy, something, but all I felt was exhaustion. I nodded, my voice hoarse. "Okay."

Calvin leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Now you understand what’s at stake. Jerome can’t find out about this. We need to figure out a plan."

Dr.Chel—Mom glared at him, her protective instincts flaring. "No. I need to figure out a plan. You’ve done enough damage, Calvin."

He didn’t argue, but his eyes flicked to me, as if silently reminding me that this wasn’t over.

And he was right…

Time was running TOO fast. I could remember, I was Kelsey Walton, a former Engineer who’s working with Montenegros’ Construction Company—owned by Gabriel. Now, suddenly, I am a freaking heiress of Don Lucas—said to be a fucking drug lord!

The sun was high, casting a golden glow over the quiet estate Calvin had secured for us. Weeks had passed since the chaos that uprooted my life, and though I appreciated their protection, I couldn’t ignore the restlessness clawing at me. Dr. Chelsea and Calvin had agreed that staying hidden was our best option for now…

But I had other plans.

The morning routine was predictable: Calvin trained in the yard, sharpening his combat skills, while Dr. Chelsea busied herself with research in her study.

It was the perfect opportunity.

I stepped into the kitchen, feigning casualness as I grabbed a light coat. “I’m going to the garden for some air,” I called out, not waiting for a response.

Once outside, I slipped through the side gate, careful not to draw attention. The city awaited me, its hum of life promising opportunity.

By midday, I stood before Montenegros’ Construction Company, a towering glass structure that reflected the sky like a mirror. It was the heart of Gabriel’s empire.

Inside, the air was cool and smelled faintly of polished wood and money. I approached the receptionist, my voice steady. “Kristie Gray. I’m here to discuss an investment opportunity with MCC.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly, likely noting the designer outfit I’d carefully chosen for this moment. She made a call, and minutes later, I was escorted to a corner office where Janette awaited.

Janette Dale. Gabriel’ right hand and, from what I’d gathered, his closest confidante. She was striking in a sharp, tailored suit, her dark hair swept into a sleek bun.

“Ms. Gray,” she greeted, her tone professional but guarded. “You’re a new name on the scene. Why MCC?”

I offered her a confident smile. “I see potential where others don’t. Your company has a reputation for innovation, but I believe it’s on the cusp of something… greater. With the right backing, it could dominate the market.”

Her skepticism was evident, but she listened intently as I laid out my pitch. I’d come prepared, presenting a portfolio that painted me as a savvy investor with a knack for turning opportunities into gold. Not just a supermodel.

An hour later, she leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “You’re bold, Ms. Gray. I like that. Let’s draft a contract and see where this goes.”

When I signed the investor agreement, satisfaction coursed through me.

ONE STEP CLOSER.

The following day, Janette called me. “Ms. Gray, we’re hosting a celebration in two days for some of our top partners. It’s a surprise for Mr. Montenegro. As our newest investor, I’d love for you to attend.”

I hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I prefer to keep a low profile.”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “You’ll be our guest of honor. Just keep your identity secret until the right moment—I want Gabriel to be impressed.”

My lips curved into a smile she couldn’t see. “If you insist, I’ll be there.”

PERFECT.

The day of the party arrived, and Montenegro’s ballroom was a vision of opulence. Gold accents gleamed under the crystal chandeliers, and the air buzzed with conversation. Wealth and power were tangible here, worn like armor by every guest in the room.

I arrived fashionably late, my black dress flowing like liquid night as I moved through the crowd. Janette greeted me warmly, her excitement palpable.

“You’re stunning, Ms. Gray,” she said, linking her arm with mine. “Come, let me introduce you to some of our partners.”

I allowed her to lead me, keeping my expression composed. Every step brought me closer to Gabriel, who stood near the bar, laughing with a group of men. When his eyes finally met mine, the laughter died.

His gaze hardened as he took me in, recognition flickering in his eyes. But he masked it quickly, his smile forced.

“Mr. Montenegro,” I said, extending a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you… again.”

He hesitated, his grip firm as he shook my hand. “I thought… this was a close party?” He diverted his gaze on Janette, emphasizing his tone. “For investors.”

I let out a soft laugh. “I invested in MCC. And… I wanted to apologize for my behavior that night. I was... overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” he echoed, his tone unreadable.

“Yes,” I said, my voice laced with faux sincerity. “It’s been a difficult one for me. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Of course. No harm done.”

Pretentious. Indeed.

The party continued, the tension between us simmering beneath the surface. I observed him from a distance, noting how he interacted with others. He was cautious, always calculating, and I knew he’d already begun unraveling the threads of my sudden appearance.

Just as I felt the first stirrings of triumph, the air shifted. A sharp crack echoed through the ballroom—a gunshot.

The crowd erupted into chaos, screams filling the air as people scrambled for cover. My heart raced, and I turned toward the sound, my instincts screaming at me to move.

At the entrance, a masked gunman stood, his weapon aimed directly at Janette. My body tensed, every nerve on edge.

I dodged the bullet as soon as I heard the firing shot. TO PROTECT HER.

The shot rang out, and pain exploded in my side. The force of the bullet sent me staggering back, the world spinning as I fell.

Gasps rippled through the room as I hit the floor. My vision blurred, the faces around me fading into a haze.

Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard Gabriel shout something, his voice sharp and commanding.

BUT IT WAS TOO LATE.

Darkness crept in, pulling me under as the world dissolved around me.