2. Huge favor.

Five Years Ago...

"No!" Jillian exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the table.

She could feel her blood rush straight to her head. How dare this woman, sitting across from her, ask for such a huge favor? As if time hadn’t passed... as if she hadn’t been cruelly forgotten for years?

"Think about it carefully," Victoria said, her tone annoyingly calm. "Do it for your sister."

"My sister?" Jillian echoed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "If I remember correctly, I don’t have a sister. I don’t even have a family, right?"

"Jillian, are you still not over it yet? We had to give you up for adoption because we couldn’t afford to raise you and your twin. When will you finally accept that?"

"You’re right. Of course, it had to be me, right?" she snapped, eyes blazing. "Because Julia was sick. Because Julia was the weaker one!"

Her voice trembled with rage. "Did you suffer long? No. Did you come back for me? No. Did you even try to help me when I had nowhere to go? Never."

She was angry—deeply, heartbreakingly angry.

She and Julia were only seven when their father died. Their family business crumbled until they were completely bankrupt. That’s when their mother made the cruel decision: one of the twins had to be given up for adoption.

And because Julia was sickly and supposedly needed more care, she—Jillian—was the one sent away. She had begged their mother, promised she would be a good daughter, that she’d even help take care of her twin. But her mother hadn’t listened.

Her heart was cold as stone. And Julia? Julia didn’t say a word. She didn’t protest. She didn’t beg for Jillian to stay.

For eighteen years, Jillian believed Julia didn’t care. Not once had she replied to any of Jillian’s letters or messages while she was in the orphanage.

While Julia grew up in comfort, Jillian was shuffled from one foster family to another. Some took her in, but they all eventually returned her, calling her hopeless, uncontrollable. Jillian wanted to be bad—she thought if she made herself undesirable, she’d be sent back to her real family. But that never happened. They just kept passing her off.

Eventually, Jillian grew tired of bouncing from one home to the next. Just when she gave up hope and began to dream of a real family, tragedy struck again.

She was fifteen when she moved in with a new foster family. She was older, but someone still wanted to give her a chance. She had promised herself she’d behave, be normal, even kind.

But after a month, her foster father showed his true colors. He tried to rape her.

She fought back, her instincts kicking in. She had hidden a Swiss knife under her bed—and she used it. She stabbed him in the stomach.

But instead of sympathy, she was branded as violent. A murderer.

She denied it. She swore it was self-defense. But her troubled past painted her guilty. She lost the case.

She was no longer accepted in orphanages and was handed over to the Department of Social Welfare. She hated everything about her life.

She didn’t stay there long. She ran.

Her real family was her only hope. But her cruel mother and distant sister slammed the door in her face, claiming they wanted nothing to do with a criminal. She was thrown out like garbage.

With nowhere else to go, she turned to the streets. The following weeks were hell. She learned to steal just to eat. She ran from cops through dark alleys, playing hide-and-seek with death.

Then came Greta—a poor woman who lived under a bridge, surviving on selling candy and cigarettes. She wasn’t rich. But she had the heart of a mother.

For three years, Greta became her world. They survived together. They were family.

But fate was unkind yet again. Greta died of pneumonia. Jillian was eighteen, and by then, she had learned how to dance with life, even if it was cruel.

"I won’t ask for your answer now," Victoria said, breaking Jillian from the memory. "I’ll come back in two days. I hope by then you’ve decided. Remember, Jillian, this is about your sister’s happiness—and our family’s honor."

Jillian laughed, cold and sharp. Our family. What a joke. They never treated her like family.

At twenty-five, Jillian lived alone—not on the streets anymore, but in a small rented room. She never got to attend college, but she wasn’t stupid. Jillian was street-smart.

She’d always been bright. That never changed. Now, as a singer at a club, she was one of the few who could speak fluent English to foreign customers.

Yes, she was an entertainer. But not the kind who left with customers. She was a singer. That’s it.

She had no other choice. It was the fastest way to save up. Jillian still dreamed of college. She’d study, build a life—and come back for revenge. Especially on her mother and Julia, whose memory was the fire that kept her fighting.

"Wait," she said, stopping Victoria before she could leave. She wanted revenge, didn’t she? Maybe this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

"I’ll do it," she said.

"Good. Then come with me."

Instead of pity, Jillian felt a twisted thrill upon seeing her twin sister unconscious—hooked up to life support machines.

According to Victoria, Julia had been in a major accident and had been comatose for a month. The damage was so severe that the doctors couldn't say when—or if—she would wake up.

So what exactly was Victoria asking from her?

Just something simple: pretend to be Julia.

For two reasons.

First, for their mother, Valeria, who had lost her grip on reality since Julia's accident. She no longer recognized anyone, mumbling only Julia’s name over and over. Victoria believed that if she saw Jillian as Julia, maybe—just maybe—she’d recover. Jillian couldn’t care less. If anything, she hoped this was karma paying Valeria a long-overdue visit.

Second, for Julia’s fiancé—Sake Fortalejo.

He was overseas and expected to return anytime now for their wedding. A wedding that was still scheduled in three months.

Obviously, no wedding could happen with a bride in a coma.

But more importantly, Julia’s family was once again on the brink of financial collapse. And Sake—whose family was extremely wealthy—was their golden ticket. That wedding had to push through. No matter what.

Her job? Pretend to be Julia until the real one could recover. Then quietly disappear.

But if Victoria had any common sense, she would’ve known Jillian was the last person to ask. Because Jillian was the one person who wouldn't give a damn if they lost everything.

Still, by reaching out to her, Victoria had unknowingly handed Jillian the perfect weapon for revenge.

She didn’t know her niece anymore. And she had no idea what Jillian was capable of.

By the time she realized it, it would be too late.

Jillian had plans—and none of them involved helping Julia or Valeria. She was here for one reason only: vengeance.

“I want you to buy time for Julia, but don’t postpone the wedding,” Victoria instructed as they exited Julia’s hospital suite.

For the past month, Victoria had counted her luck that Sake wasn’t the type to call or video chat regularly. He was busy overseas, and his only form of “love” was sending gifts via his executive assistant.

“Are you sure Sake won’t notice?” Jillian asked. Not that she cared if she was found out.

The sooner, the better. It would be far more satisfying if the wedding didn’t push through and her family's crumbling business finally collapsed—just like how they once abandoned her without a second thought. 

“I mean, I’m nothing like Julia.” 

And it was true. Julia was graceful, refined. Jillian was rough, forged by the streets and survival.

“What are you talking about? You and Julia are identical twins. Of all the twins I’ve seen, you two are the hardest to tell apart. You just need a little makeover and some training. The rest, we can fake.”

Jillian nodded. Her aunt was pure evil. Whoever this Sake was, he was walking into the biggest lie of his life.

“Okay,” she said.

Victoria had a point. Visually, no one would notice. She was just as beautiful as Julia. Their body types weren’t far off either—though Julia probably got hers from yoga and Pilates, while Jillian’s was the result of hard labor and surviving life’s beatings.

Julia was an inch taller. But no one would notice that.

“Come on. You need to get ready before you meet your mother.”

Jillian rolled her eyes but followed. If she wanted revenge, she needed patience.

And once she met Sake, she would make sure he cursed the day he ever fell in love with Julia.