Chapter 2

Ivy’s fingers trembled as she held Damon’s picture. His sharp jawline, icy eyes, and emotionless expression made her throat tighten. Even in a photo, he radiated power and danger. He wasn’t just a threat—he was the threat.

“I… I don’t know, KJ. This is insane. What if he finds out I’m not Selena?” Ivy whispered.

KJ leaned against a dusty chair, arms crossed, amusement in his eyes.

“He won’t. Selena was declared dead in a fire two years ago. No body, only ashes. Some think she died, others that she escaped.”

He shrugged casually, as if it were nothing.

“She vanished. And you? You look exactly like her. Same eyes, same smile. Dye your hair black and no one will know—not even her billionaire husband.”

Ivy stared at the photo again. Selena smiled brightly, her black hair glossy and long. It was uncanny—like looking in a mirror.

“But what if he believes she’s dead?” Ivy asked shakily.

KJ stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Damon never confirmed her death. No funeral, no statements. Silence from a man like him means something. Maybe he’s still looking. Maybe he wants her back. All you have to do is play the role.”

Ivy’s mind spun. This wasn’t just pretending. This was stepping into a dead woman’s life.

But then she thought of Matteo, lying in that hospital bed, his tired smile breaking her heart. Dr. Zach had said he didn’t have much time left without surgery. A surgery she couldn’t afford.

KJ’s voice cut through. “Take this chance, and your brother lives. Walk away… and pay your debts.”

Fear gave way to determination. No one else was going to save Matteo. If pretending to be a dead billionaire’s wife was the price, she’d pay it.

“When do I meet him?” she asked quietly.

KJ’s lips curved into a grin. “Soon. But first, you need to be prepared.”

Ivy’s heart dropped. She stared at Damon’s photo one last time. Cold. Powerful. Deadly. She was about to play with fire.

---

DAMON’S LUXURIOUS MANSION

Rain poured relentlessly, beating down like war drums. Inside, the only sound was Damon’s ragged, dangerous breathing.

The room was in ruins. Books scattered across the marble floor. Shattered glass sparkled like cursed stars. A once-expensive painting lay torn in half. Damon stood in the center, shirt unbuttoned, chest heaving, fists bloodied.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” he roared, hurling a silver vase against the wall. The crash echoed like a gunshot.

“Two years!” he growled, pacing like a caged animal. “Two years and nothing? No trace, no scent, nothing!”

He slammed his palm on the desk, wood cracking. His dark hair clung to his damp forehead, eyes wild.

“Boss…” Leo, his head bodyguard, stepped forward cautiously. “We’re still looking. She might really be dead…”

“She’s not dead! My Selena is still out there. Find her!” Damon’s voice was sharp enough to cut steel.

“Boss—”

“I feel her,” he said, tapping his chest, eyes unfocused. “I can’t stop seeing her in my dreams. I need her like air. If the world has to burn before I find her, then let it burn.”

Leo exchanged a wary look with the guards. Damon’s obsession was spiraling.

The door opened. His secretary, Celeste, entered—soaked from the rain, glasses fogged, umbrella in hand.

“Did you get the antidote?” Leo asked.

“The doctor refused. Said more would worsen his condition,” Celeste replied sharply.

“What?!” Leo shouted. At that moment Damon slashed his arm with broken glass.

The scene was so brutal Celeste had to look away.

Leo and the men subdued Damon, dragging him to the secret basement and chaining him hand and foot. But he thrashed and cursed.

“Unchain me! I’ll find my Selena! I’ll kill everyone behind that fire!” His voice echoed, feral, as the iron restraints held.

“We should leave and check on him tomorrow,” Leo muttered, leading the others out. Damon’s groans and curses filled the halls.

His disorder hadn’t always been this bad. Anger once drove him to break things, but Selena’s gentle presence had calmed him. With her, he clung to sanity.

After she was said to have died in the fire, everything worsened. Now he destroyed everything around him, hurt himself, and battled chronic insomnia. Even sleeping pills failed; when he did sleep, he’d wander, trying to kill himself.

That was why bodyguards stayed close, even at home. No one outside his inner circle knew. If his enemies learned of his weakness, they’d exploit it—and overthrow him.

THE NEXT DAY ~ LEAH'S APARTMENT

The morning sun peeked over the horizon as Leah buttoned her worn blouse, careful not to tug on the fraying seams. Her hands trembled, but she forced them steady for her daughter’s sake.

“Come on, baby,” she whispered, smiling faintly at little Luis, her pigtails bouncing as she skipped beside her, backpack in hand. Luis had no clue about the storm behind her mother’s calm.

After dropping her off at school, Leah hurried to Blackridge University. Her tote bag swung at her side, the unevenly sewn slit in her skirt flapping with each step—a crooked stitch, like her life.

Daniel was already gone. Again. He left only a note on the counter:

“Being married to a broke lecturer is exhausting. Try not to embarrass yourself today and work more on your stupid ugly face.”

Leah didn’t cry. Not this time. She powdered the swelling bruise on her cheek, careful to hide his handprint.

Now, standing in front of her university classroom, chalk in hand, Leah’s voice was steady as she delivered her lecture on emotional dissonance in human psychology. Her students scribbled down notes, except one.

From the back row, Orion sat unmoving, his arms folded, eyes locked on her with a stare that was neither curious nor cruel. It was unreadable. Cold. Calculating.

But when she turned to face the board, Orion’s sharp gaze softened. Just slightly. He had noticed the faint discoloration under her foundation, the tight way she held her posture, the skirt stitched like a last-minute survival attempt.

Skye, seated two rows ahead, was scribbling in her notebook when she noticed Orion’s attention wasn’t on the lesson but on her. The lecturer, Leah.

Her brows furrowed.

"Why is he looking at her like that?" She thought inwardly.

Skye’s eyes darted to Leah, taking in her appearance. The woman looked exhausted, yes but she was still beautiful in that quiet, haunting way. Skye’s grip on her pen tightened

Jealousy fogged her chest. She had spent years trying to reach Orion, and now his eyes were on a woman with sad eyes and stitched skirts.

The bell rang. Students filed out. Leah lingered, stacking her notes.

She looked up. Orion was still there.

“You’re not going to lunch with the others?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same,” he said. Then quietly, “That mark on your face—it’s not just makeup. Someone hit you.”

Leah froze, papers trembling in her hand. “That’s none of your business. You’re my student, and—”

“You don’t deserve to be hurt,” he interrupted gently, unwavering.

Before she could answer, the door burst open.

“Oriooon!”

Skye rushed in, linking her arm with his. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere. Let’s get lunch—I’m starving.” She flashed Leah a sugar-sweet smile. “Oh, hi, Professor.”

Leah nodded politely. “Skye.”

Skye tugged Orion away, loud enough for Leah to hear. “We’ve got a date to keep.”

Orion went silently, but not before glancing back—his eyes lingering on Leah.

Outside, he yanked his hand free. “What was that?”

“I just wanted us to have lunch,” Skye said, her smile faltering.

“Just because our parents are friends doesn’t mean we are. Know your place, Skye.” His tone was ice. He walked off, leaving her standing there, heart cracked.

---

ROYAL HOSPITAL

The monitor beeped steadily as Matteo lay propped up, pale but smiling. The door opened, and in, swept Katie—glossed lips, designer perfume, heels clicking softly.

“Baby, I’m sorry I came late. School’s been hectic. I missed you so much,” she said dramatically, kissing his forehead.

Matteo chuckled weakly. “It’s fine. I’m getting better.” His eyes glowed with genuine affection she no longer recognized.

Sitting beside him, she brushed his hair back. “You need to rest more. Honestly, if your sister worked harder, maybe you’d be in a VIP ward instead of here.”

“Don’t say that,” Matteo defended softly. “Ivy’s doing her best. I signed up for the scholarship exam next week—if I pass, I can finally join Blackridge.”

Katie froze, then forced a bright smile. “That’s… amazing. But shouldn’t you focus on your health first?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m doing it so I can be closer to you.”

“Of course, baby,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “Just promise you’ll take it slow.”

Inside, her thoughts hissed: God, please let him fail. I can’t be seen with someone in secondhand sneakers and cup noodles.

She smiled sweetly. “Ace that exam for me, okay?”

Matteo beamed, unaware the girl beside him prayed for his downfall.

---

SOME DAYS LATER ~ CLUBHOUSE

Obsidian Lounge buzzed with laughter and whiskey fumes. Damon Williams leaned back in a booth, whiskey glass in hand, ring glinting.

“Tonight, we celebrate!” a man cheered, raising his glass.

Damon barely smirked, his gaze drifting to the stage as the lights dimmed.

A spotlight. A dancer.

She moved like silk, all curves and grace. But it wasn’t her body that froze him—it was her eyes.

Familiar. Too familiar.

“Who the hell is that?” Damon muttered, voice low.

Her chest pounded. KJ had said Damon would be here. The plan had begun.

She twirled, descended the pole. Their eyes locked, and he slammed his glass down, rising to his feet.

“Out,” he growled.

“But sir—”

“OUT!”

The room emptied, leaving only them.

The dancer froze as he approached. Damon reached out, lifting her chin, brushing her mask.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

Ivy swallowed hard, staying silent.

“I need to know who’s behind this mask…” He peeled it off.

His eyes widened. His breath caught beautiful eyes that were as clear as the sky , her beautiful small unique face.

Selena!! His Selena was right in his arms in the flesh and he wasn't imagining things!!!

"Sir the rules in the bar states that guests are allowed to touch the dancers without their permission. It would be best if you let go of me " Ivy said, this was part of the plan acting like Selena with a memory loss.

"Selena, is this really you ? " He asked as he cupped her face but his sixth sense quickly awoke. What if she was a trap set by his enemies , what if she isn't Selena??!

He instantly pushed Ivy causing her to stumble backwards and almost lost her balance.

Damon swiftly and quickly took out a pistol from the back of his pants and pointed it directly at Ivy's forehead, whose soul instantly left her body upon seeing the gun!!

"Who sent you ?! You better talk or I will blow your skull out "He threatened and ivy started to shake fearfully.

"What are you talking about? I am just a poor dancer trying to make ends meet please don't kill me! " She pleaded and started crying pitifully meanwhile deep inside she was terrified.

Damon's mind suddenly drifted somewhere and he smirked eerily.

"Selena has a birthmark on her body and if you don't have that birthmark you are good as dead " He said and before ivy could think of what to do ,he stretched his hand toward and tore her short dancing crop top.

Ivy wasn't wearing a bra so the moment the top was torn her huge b**b bounced out.

Damon's eyes widened in shock when he saw the star shape birthmark on Ivy's left b**b.

Birthmark was something that can't be easily forged and even if it can , no one except him has ever seen the star birthmark on Selena's chest to be able to fake it, this really has to be his Selena, he thought.

“Selena…” His voice softened, hand reaching for her.

Ivy covered herself with one arm and slapped him with the other.

“Pervert!”