Masuk“Who is this woman, Kenzo? What have you done to my daughter?” Damian Cullen’s voice shattered the grandeur of the fiftieth-floor living room.He stood frozen, his worn leather briefcase resting beside an expensive velvet sofa, his eyes wide with horror as he stared at the figure standing near the massive window.Lyra turned slowly. The silver silk dress clinging to her body shimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. Her dark blonde hair was styled into a rigid bob, her makeup heavy, her lips painted a vivid red that erased every trace of the old Lyra.“This version of your daughter is the best one, Damian. Doesn’t she look enchanting?”Kenzo lounged casually in his chair, a glass of whiskey in hand, making no move to greet his father-in-law.His gaze lingered on Lyra with a disturbing pride, like a collector admiring a newly restored antique.“Dad, please help me. Take me home. Now!”Lyra rushed forward, nearly stumbling in her high heels. She grabbed the sleeve of her father’s suit w
“Eat the lobster. Elena always considered this butter sauce the best part of her evening.”Kenzo’s voice broke the silence of the dining room, a silence as cold as a refrigerator. He sat at the end of a mahogany table that stretched nearly four meters long. White candles burned at its center, casting a soft yellow glow that flickered across the silverware.Lyra stared at the porcelain plate before her with quiet dread. A mound of fresh lobster meat rested on it, garnished neatly with parsley.“For heaven’s sake, how many times do I have to say it? I’m Lyra!”She did not touch her fork. She sat with her back perfectly straight, just as instructed in the rigid schedule Martha had given her that morning. The crimson silk dress fit her flawlessly, yet it felt like someone else’s skin forced onto her body.“A name is just a label that can be changed. Elegance is eternal.”Kenzo cut into his lobster with precise, measured movements. Not a single clink of metal against porcelain could be hea
“The color must be identical to that painting. No mistakes,” Kenzo Alberto commanded, his voice echoing through a dressing room larger than Lyra’s old apartment.Three strangers in sleek black uniforms stood rigidly before a floor-to-ceiling mirror. They carried metal cases filled with hairstyling tools and makeup palettes that looked like surgical instruments. The team leader bowed respectfully to Kenzo before glancing at Lyra with an unreadable expression.Lyra sat gripping the edge of a velvet chair. She stared at her reflection, still dressed in last night’s emerald green nightgown. Her hair, usually left loose, had now become the target of expert eyes intent on turning her into a ghost.“I won’t allow you to change anything about my body!” Lyra snapped, stepping back as she glared at everyone.She jerked her shoulder away when a stylist’s hand brushed her hair. Rising to her feet, her breath came fast, anger surging to her head.Her foot lashed out, kicking over the ceramic bowl
“Throw everything out. Don’t let a single item from her past remain in this room.”Kenzo Alberto’s voice sliced through the silence of the dining room like a blade. He sat calmly at the end of a long table made of black teak.In his right hand, he held a porcelain cup filled with dark coffee, a thin curl of steam rising from its surface. Across from him, Martha, the head housekeeper, bowed her head deeply, not daring to interrupt.In the corridor, the hurried footsteps of the servants echoed. They carried large black trash bags. One by one, the bags filled with items that should have belonged to Lyra. Thick college textbooks covered in handwritten notes. Pencil sketches of her mother’s gentle face. Even the underwear she had bought with her own savings.Lyra stood at the threshold of her room, her body trembling violently. She watched her favorite novel tossed carelessly into one of the plastic bags. Her eyes burned as a small keychain, a gift from her best friend, was swept in along
“Miss… this card will only work for three minutes. After that, the system will notice,” the cleaning staff whispered, glancing left and right to make sure everything was under control. His hand trembled as he handed over the gray access card.Lyra snatched it immediately, her fingers cold. Her lips curved upward as she imagined freedom from Kenzo’s golden cage.“Where’s my payment?”Lyra shot him an annoyed look. Reluctantly, she handed over the gold ring her mother had left her. There was no turning back. No matter what, she wanted out of that place.“Three minutes is enough,” she murmured. “I just need to get out of here.”“I’m so unlucky to have run into that old man. Whatever his personal business is, I don’t care,” Lyra cursed inwardly.She refused to think about Elena. Not now. If she started digging into it, she might hesitate and trade away her own freedom.And she could not hesitate.After making sure the situation remained safe, she dismissed the cleaning staff before anyone
“You know, Lyra, Elena used to hate the color crimson, but tonight you look absolutely perfect in that dress,” Kenzo Alberto said, his voice hissing like a serpent behind Lyra’s ear.Lyra froze at the bathroom doorway, clutching the edge of the crimson velvet evening gown that had been delivered by a servant just minutes ago. The dress clung tightly to her body, its back cut dangerously low, exposing her pale skin.“I’m not her, Kenzo. Stop comparing me to your past. It’s disgusting.”Lyra slowly turned, trying to hide the tremor in her hands. Elena’s diary, the one she had found earlier, was still tucked beneath the bathroom sink. The secret about the camera hidden in the wedding dress button throbbed in her mind like a ticking bomb.“Comparison is the best way to measure perfection.”Kenzo stood in the dimly lit main area of the penthouse, holding a small wooden box carved with ancient patterns. His gaze swept over Lyra from head to toe. There was something deeply unsettling in the







