Chapter 4: Elizabeth

Chapter 4: Elizabeth

A few days later, I was finally discharged from the hospital. The doctor confirmed I was in good health and fit to go home. My godfather handled my belongings, and we stepped out into the fresh air.

A sleek black Mercedes waited at the curb. A chauffeur stood attentively by the vehicle, a warm smile spreading across his face as he opened the rear door. "It's wonderful to see you, ma'am," he said.

"Thank you," I replied, sliding into the luxurious interior. My godfather settled in beside me.

"Everyone at the estate will be thrilled to have you back," he said reassuringly.

I swallowed hard, offering a small smile in return. I had no idea what to expect, and I sent a silent prayer that his household was free of the family dramas I dreaded.

The car eventually glided through imposing wrought-iron gates, sweeping up a long, manicured driveway lined with cypress trees. My eyes widened as the mansion came into view. It was a breathtaking palazzo of cream-colored stone, with grand arches and terracotta roofs that glowed in the afternoon sun. Even having been born with a silver spoon, this level of opulence was staggering.

As we stepped out of the car, a row of staff—security, maids, and housekeepers—stood assembled before the grand entrance, their faces beaming with genuine welcome. "We are so happy to see you, ma'am!" they chorused in unison.

The grand gesture touched a deep chord within me. "Thank you, all," I said, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. It had been so long since my father's passing that I had forgotten what such a heartfelt welcome felt like.

"Let's go inside, Bonita," my godfather said, guiding me forward. The name gave me pause. Bonita—was it his granddaughter's real name, or simply a Spanish term of endearment? I took a steadying breath and crossed the threshold.

The interior was even more magnificent. A colossal diamond chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering prisms of light across the marble floors. Ornate portraits adorned the walls. One featured my godfather, resplendent in a sharp black suit, with the name DON JULIO ALVAREZ inscribed boldly at the top. Another depicted him with a middle-aged woman and a young lady who shared my face, undoubtedly his late wife and the granddaughter whose life I now inhabited.

"Bonita, one of the staff will show you to your room. You must rest, my dear. I will check on you later," Don Julio said kindly.

I gave a faint nod, and a maid escorted me upstairs.

My new room was… peculiar. Eerie skeletal drawings and macabre portraits hung on the walls. The heavy curtains and bed linens were a stark combination of black and blood-red. The overall decor felt like it belonged to a cult initiate. It seemed Don Julio's real goddaughter had been quite the eccentric.

"So, ma'am, if you require anything, please don't hesitate to ask," the maid said.

"Uhm, actually, could you please help me change all of this?" I gestured around the room. "The curtains, the bedsheets, and especially these portraits. I'd like them removed."

Confusion flickered across her face. "But, ma'am… you were always so passionate about your dark aesthetic and music."

I heaved a long sigh. "Well, not anymore."

She nodded and began the task of dismantling the strange decor. Once she left, I slumped onto the bed, cradling my head in my hands. The reality of my situation was overwhelming. I walked to the full-length mirror and touched the unfamiliar face staring back. I was living in another person's body. Transmigration had been a fantastical concept until this very moment.

My gaze fell upon a laptop resting on an ottoman. I opened it to find a half-empty pack of cigarettes lying across the keyboard. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I immediately tossed them into the trash.

I powered on the laptop and began to research. A search for DON JULIO ALVAREZ yielded immediate results. Pictures of my godfather confirmed he was the owner of the largest conglomerate in Italy, with a vast empire spanning companies in Australia, Canada, Paris, Spain, and America—New York, to be precise. A faint smirk touched my lips at the mention of New York.

Delving into his personal life, I discovered his wife had passed away from cancer five years prior. They had no children of their own. His only goddaughter, the child of a former employee, who was also dead, had been adopted by him. The pieces were falling into place.

Further articles described his goddaughter- Elizabeth Alvarez,as notoriously reckless, known for her drinking, smoking, and string of questionable relationships. I rubbed my temples lightly. It appeared I had my work cut out for me in redeeming this young woman's reputation, now that I was irrevocably stuck in her skin.

Then, a strangely comforting idea began to form in my mind.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Bonita?May I come in?" It was Don Julio.

I quickly closed the laptop."Yes, of course."

He entered,carrying a small plate of cookies, a warm but weary smile on his face. "I hope you're feeling more settled," he said, his voice laced with genuine concern.

"I am,thank you," I replied, returning his smile. I took a steadying breath. "Actually, there's something important I'd like to discuss with you."

His expression shifted instantly,the smile fading into apprehension. "I hope there's no problem, Bonita."

"No,not at all," I assured him, shaking my head. "It's just... I've been thinking. I would like to go to New York to take charge of the company there."

Confusion etched deep lines onto his forehead."Are you serious?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

"Completely,"I said, nodding firmly.

He heaved a long,heavy sigh, the sound filled with a history of disappointment. "Bonita, I must confess, I'm shocked. You've never had any interest in the company. You actively hated the mere mention of responsibility, preferring... other pursuits." He paused, and his voice grew thick with pain. "Before your accident, you came home intoxicated. I had reached my limit with your lifestyle. We had a terrible argument, and in your anger, you tried to run out. You tripped and fell down the stairs." He lowered his head slightly, weighed down by guilt. "It was my fault. I never should have raised my voice at you."

My chest tightened. The real Elizabeth had put this kind man through so much.

I gently placed my hand over his."Godfather, that girl you're describing is gone. I am different now. I promise you, I will make you and the Alvarez name proud."

He looked at me,his eyes tired but searching. A flicker of cautious hope shone through the exhaustion. "It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, Bonita. So, when were you thinking of leaving for New York?"

"Tomorrow,"I stated.

"Tomorrow?"A flash of hurt crossed his face. "You don't wish to spend some time with your old godfather first?"

I offered him a reassuring smile."Please, don't worry. We will keep in constant touch, and I will visit often. It will only be for a year. You'll see."

He rubbed his temples,a gesture of surrender mixed with concern, before finally meeting my determined gaze. "Very well. You may leave for New York tomorrow."

"Thank you,Godfather." A calculated smile spread across my face.

Yes.I was going back to New York. I was going to find Richard.

And I was going to make him,and everyone who betrayed me, pay.