Chapter 15

Chapter 15

ADRIA

Something in my tone must have caught them off guard because Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, don't let us keep you from your shopping," he said. "Though I'd hate to see you waste money on a gift for someone who..." He trailed off meaningfully.

"Who what?" I asked, my voice soft and dangerous.

"Who probably won't appreciate it the way you'd hope," Kieran finished diplomatically. "You're not really Damien's type, are you? Not like Amber. Not like women who can actually keep his interest."

I let their words wash over me, feeling nothing but a distant contempt. These men had no idea who they were talking to. No idea that their friend's pathetic wife was about to become the most powerful business connection they could possibly imagine.

"You're probably right," I said quietly. "I should go. Enjoy your day, gentlemen."

I turned back to the counter, where the jeweler was watching the exchange with barely concealed disgust.

"The offer stands," she said quietly. "Forty-eight thousand."

"I'll take it. Can you transfer it to this account?" I pulled out a card with my shell company's banking information.

She processed the transaction quickly, and within minutes, I was walking out of the store with forty-eight thousand dollars I didn't need but felt immensely satisfied to have. Behind me, I could hear Marcus and Kieran already gossiping about my presence there, probably crafting some story about the desperate wife buying jewelry she couldn't afford to win back her husband's affection.

Let them think that. Let them all think I was pathetic and desperate and barely worth noticing.

The truth would be so much sweeter when it finally came out.

I drove to a wig shop next, a small boutique tucked away in a trendy neighborhood I'd discovered during my previous life. The owner, a eccentric woman named Celeste, specialized in high-quality wigs for theater productions and people who needed to change their appearance for various reasons.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked as I browsed the selection.

"I need several wigs. Different styles, different colors. All natural-looking."

Her eyes lit up with professional interest. "Special occasion? Or ongoing need?"

"Ongoing. I need to move around the city without being recognized."

She didn't ask why—discretion was part of her business model. "What's your natural hair color?"

"Dark brown, about shoulder length."

She pulled out several options: a sleek black bob, a honey-blonde style with waves, a auburn pixie cut, and a chestnut brown style with bangs.

"Try these," she said, leading me to a private fitting room.

I tried each one, marveling at how different I looked with each change. The black bob made me look severe and businesslike. The blonde waves made me look younger, softer. The auburn pixie gave me an edge I'd never had as Adriana Chen. But it was the chestnut brown with bangs that made me look most like myself—or rather, like the version of myself I'd been before all this started.

"I'll take all of them," I said. "Plus any accessories you'd recommend for keeping them secure."

Celeste rang up the purchase, adding bobby pins, wig caps, and adhesive strips. "You know, I don't usually say this, but you have great bone structure. You could pull off almost any style."

"Thank you," I said, touched by the unexpected compliment. It had been so long since anyone had said something kind to me without an ulterior motive.

Back in my car, I pulled out my real phone and composed a message. Not to Adrian this time, but to my professional account—the one linked to Adriana Salvadore, CEO and heiress.

I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for: Darius Kane.

Darius ran Kane Industries, a company that had been nipping at Damien's heels for years. They were in direct competition for several major contracts, and from what I'd heard through the grapevine, Darius hated Damien with a passion. Something about a deal that had gone south five years ago, details I'd never bothered to learn when I was playing the devoted wife.

But now those details mattered.

I typed out a carefully worded message:

**Mr. Kane, this is Adriana Salvadore. I've been reviewing potential partnerships as I prepare to re-enter active business operations in the city. Your company has come to my attention as a possible collaboration opportunity. However, I prefer to conduct initial meetings through my assistant to maintain privacy during this transition period. Would you be available to meet with Miss Andy today at 2pm? Please treat her with the same courtesy and consideration you would extend to me directly, as she has my complete confidence and authority to negotiate on my behalf. - A.S.**

I read it over three times before hitting send. The message was professional, direct, and just mysterious enough to pique his interest without seeming unprofessional.

The response came within five minutes.

**Ms. Salvadore, I would be honored to meet with your representative. Today at 2 PM works perfectly. I'll ensure my team is prepared to discuss potential partnership opportunities. Thank you for considering Kane Industries. - Darius Kane**

I smiled. Phase one complete.

Now for phase two: becoming Miss Andy.

I drove back to my storage unit, the one place where I could transform without worrying about Damien's tracking or unexpected visits. Once inside, I locked the door and began the process of reinventing myself.

First, the wig. I chose the chestnut brown one with bangs—different enough from my current look but not so dramatic that it would draw unwanted attention. I secured it carefully, making sure every strand of my real hair was hidden beneath the cap.

Next, makeup. I applied green-tinted contact lenses that changed my dark brown eyes to an striking emerald. Then I used a makeup technique I'd learned from a special effects artist friend in college to create realistic freckles across my nose and cheeks. Not heavy, just enough to change the character of my face.

I stepped back and looked at myself in the mirror I'd propped against the wall.