Chapter 2

The next morning, I returned to the Bellandi estate.

The car had barely stopped when a new guard approached. “Which guest of the Vescari family are you?”

Nora’s expression hardened. “This is Mara, the Bellandi family’s second daughter.”

The guard’s face changed. He glanced around instinctively. “Please don’t joke about that. The Bellandis’ second daughter died in a yacht accident seven years ago.”

I stopped Nora before she could argue. “Tell Mr. and Mrs. Bellandi that Mrs. Vescari is here.”

On the way inside, I passed my former rooms. The doors stood open, revealing Bianca’s luggage, gowns, and artwork from Europe.

The housekeeper explained, “Mrs. Bellandi is inventorying Miss Bianca’s belongings before sending them to the Vescari estate.”

I looked toward one corner of the courtyard. A magnolia tree I had planted myself once grew there. It was gone now, and the pencil marks on the wall recording my height had vanished under fresh white paint.

Nora lowered her voice. “This used to be your room.”

I looked away. “Seven years ago.”

My mother hurried over but neither embraced me nor asked how I was. Instead, she ordered the gates closed and the cameras disabled.

“How could you come back like this?” she demanded quietly. “What if someone from the Commission sees you?”

I looked at her. “I only came to say goodbye.”

Her expression stiffened, then her eyes reddened. “What goodbye? We’ve prepared a new identity and a house in Montreal for you. As long as you’re alive, there will always be another chance to meet.”

I did not expose the lie. How could a woman declared dead seven years ago visit her parents?

I walked past her toward the family cemetery. My mother’s face changed abruptly. “Mara, you cannot go in there.”

I pushed open the heavy iron gate and immediately saw the black headstone in the corner. My name was carved into it.

Mara Bellandi.

Beneath it were my date of birth and the night Bianca fled seven years ago. While I walked into church in her wedding dress, my family had already been holding my funeral.

Nora covered her mouth as tears streamed down her face. “You were alive. How could they do this?”

My mother hurried over and tried to block the grave. “We had no other choice. Bianca had disappeared. If you vanished too, the Commission would investigate. Declaring you dead in an accident was the only way to conceal the substitution.”

I brushed the dust from the stone. “If you declared me dead, why has no one brought me a single flower in seven years?”

My mother’s hand froze in midair.

My father arrived then. He stationed bodyguards at the cemetery entrance and said grimly, “Bianca is back. You cannot remain beside Adrian. If the substitution and identity fraud are exposed, the truce will collapse. The Bellandis will lose both the harbor and the Commission’s protection.”

I turned to him. “Was I the one who volunteered to take her place?”

He had no answer.

My mother quickly took my hand. “Mara, we know you were wronged. We’ve prepared cash, a new passport, and a home for you. You can go to Canada or Europe, as long as you never appear again as Mrs. Vescari.” Her voice softened further. “Bianca suffered for seven years. In her place, you received Adrian’s protection and lived as Mrs. Vescari. You did not lose everything.”

I remembered our wedding night, when my mother held me and wept, promising the Bellandis would always owe me. It had merely coaxed me into the church. Whether that debt was repaid remained their decision.

“Mara, how could your mother bear to lose you?” She gripped my hand with tearful eyes.

I looked at the grave no one had visited for seven years. “Did you cry when you put this here?”

Her face went pale, and she avoided my gaze. “The past no longer matters. Protecting the family is what matters now.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

My father’s expression finally eased. “You’ve always been more sensible than Bianca. You know how to consider the greater good.”

I only had to surrender my name, family, and the man I loved to my sister once more. I had done it countless times before.

After leaving the Bellandi estate, I did not return home. The car entered Chicago’s South Side, and I had the driver stop outside an unmarked private clinic before sending Nora to the bank to complete one final transfer.

Dr. Mercer waited in the basement examination room. Once the Bellandi physician, he was among the few who knew the truth.

I placed every document before him. “I’m ready for the final assessment.”

He did not take the papers immediately. “Mara, once you enter deep suppression, your heart rate and breathing will become too faint for ordinary equipment to detect. Even with a medical team monitoring you, no one can guarantee you’ll wake.”

“I know.”

“Adrian will personally confirm your death. He won’t trust anyone easily.”

“That is why I need you.”

Dr. Mercer was silent for a long time before opening the file. “The funeral home and transport team are ready. Once the medication takes effect, you will have only one chance.”

I accepted the sealed case he handed me. “One is enough.”

My family had already killed me once. This time, I only needed Adrian to believe that Mara Bellandi was truly dead.