Same Face. Different Past.

Thorne

It had been eighteen days.

Eighteen days of having her exactly where I wanted her, trapped, trembling, and mine.

Elena.

I owned her now. Every breath she took was on borrowed time. She belonged to me, whether she accepted it or not.

And I wouldn’t let her go until I’d broken every last part of her. I won't let her walk out of here with her two legs, unless it was her corpse.

Since that first night, the night she collapsed beneath me, a virgin soaked in fear.

I’d taken her again and again, pushing her body to its limits until it couldn’t take me anymore.

She’d awakened something inside me. Something I thought died with Luna and the child we lost.

Something cruel.

Something I wasn’t ready to bury again.

She still pretended not to know who she was. But I remembered. And even if I already had my suspicions about who’d sent her, I needed to see her crack, piece by piece.

A soft knock came at the door.

Lucia.

The only woman who had ever seen my pain. She was there when I lost Luna, there when my world collapsed.

I made her my mistress not out of love, but necessity. She could handle my demons where others shattered.

But even she wasn’t permitted to interrupt me today. Today marked four years since Luna’s death.

The pain simmered low and deep.

I pressed the door button, letting it slide open.

She stepped in, composed, but cautious. “Your slave dared you by taking another shot to flee,” she said. “She’s being punished. I thought you should know… before it’s too late.”

I didn’t look up from the file I was reading. “You broke a rule, Lucia.”

She bowed slightly. “You forbade anyone from touching her. But if I hadn’t come… you might not have had your chance before they killed her.”

Something in my chest twisted.

“Where is she?” I asked coldly.

“The dungeon,” she replied.

“You're dismissed.”

Once she was gone, I picked up the phone. Scott answered on the first ring.

“Boss?”

“Get her out of the dungeon,” I ordered. “Bring her to my room. Not the bed, just the room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Minutes later, Scott arrived with her.

“Your room's off limit to everyone... until now.” he remarked, holding the door open as I stepped out.

“She’s not just anyone,” I muttered.

Tonight, everything changed.

As we reached the door to my room, Scott paused, his eyes searching mine.

“D-Day,” I said, knowing he understood. Luna’s portraits hung on my walls like ghosts. And tonight, Elena would see them.

“Contact Vigil. I’ll be needing him soon.”

Inside, she stood facing the largest portrait, unaware I was already watching her.

Her body trembled with pain, but her eyes… they held something more.

Recognition. Maybe confusion. Maybe guilt.

“Familiar, her face strikes a clue, doesn't it?” I asked, my voice razor sharp.

She spun around, startled, then angry.

“Why didn’t you let them kill me?” she snapped.

“That was the woman you murdered, Elena,” I said coldly. “I see through your lies. Your pretense doesn’t work on me.”

Her eyes widened, stunned. “What are you talking about?”

I stepped closer. “Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

“I don’t!” she insisted. “I’ve never—”

I was done listening.

“To the table,” I ordered, my tone dark as thunder. “Hands down. Back arched.”

Something in my voice must’ve broken through her fear, because she obeyed. Shaking, silent, but obedient.

I approached her slowly, lifting her dress. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My fingers brushed her thighs as I spoke.

“Since you can’t remember, let me remind you what you did to Luna. My only beloved.”

And then I took her.

Without warning.

She gasped, cried out, her body writhing against the cold surface of the table as I thrust into her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and still, she gritted her teeth through the pain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she gasped. “I never killed anyone—ahh!”

I drove into her harder.

“You’re lying,” I snarled. “You’re Agent Zoey. You stabbed Luna in Spain. Then you ran. Changed your name. Became a new person in Baltimore. Prepared to live a better life after destroying mine.”

“I’m not—” Her voice cracked. “I’m not her! Please, I swear!”

But I didn’t believe her.

I pulled her head back, forcing her to look at Luna’s portrait.

“Look at her,” I growled. “She’d still be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“No! Please stop!”

My anger took control. I slapped her hard, then grabbed her breast through her clothes, pinching until she screamed.

“I’ll make you remember,” I hissed. “Even if I have to rip the truth from your bones.”

I rammed harder, faster, until her cries blurred into silence.

And just like before… she went still.

Blanked out.

---

Vigil checked her pulse, his expression unreadable.

“She’s out again,” he muttered, covering her with the duvet. Then he turned to me, his voice lower, more cautious.

“She’s pregnant.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest.

“What?”

“Almost three weeks along. Her vitals showed early signs, nausea, fatigue. Likely the reason she passed out.”

Before I could process it, Scott burst through the door.

He didn’t knock.

“Boss,” he said breathlessly, his face grim. “We’ve got a problem.”

The look in his eyes unsettled me. I hadn’t seen it since Luna’s death.

“Spill it,” I snapped. “Now.”

Scott hesitated. “We got the wrong woman.”

Everything inside me stilled.

“What did you just say?”

“Elena isn’t Agent Zoey. She’s not the one who killed Luna. She was never in the Agency. She’s just… innocent.”

My hand shot forward, grabbing his throat.

“Say that again,” I growled.

He didn’t fight me. His voice came out strained. “We found her. The real one. Zoey Robinhood. She was hiding under a new alias. Elena… was never involved.”

A deafening silence followed.

Then her voice cut through it like a dagger.

“You mean to tell me…” Elena stood at the doorway, trembling, eyes wide with devastation. “You did all of this to me… because of a mistake?”

Her voice shook with rage and betrayal. “You tortured me. Broke me. Humiliated me. And I wasn’t even the one who hurt her?”

Tears poured freely down her face. “You ruined me for nothing!”

She turned and ran, barefoot, broken, but free.

And all I could do was stare as the truth crushed me from within.

I had punished the wrong woman.