20

Elena’s POV

I had learned early on that motherhood requires sacrifice. Jimmy and Mimi—my miracle twins—were handed to Elizabeth’s mother for safekeeping. I named the boy Jimmy and his sister Mimi. They lived with her in the city outskirts, in a quiet house just far enough that no one from our past would see us. Every day, I visited them before work, kneeling on the soft rug and hugging them until their little arms squeezed me back. They were walkers now, toddling, giggling, exploring; and every time their laughter erupted, my heart grew full.

I’d taken a part-time job as a cleaner at ArgentTech’s main office. This building loomed tall in the city’s skyline—glass and steel catching the sun. I was excited; at least this job gave me something real to hold onto: pay for milk, diapers, school fees for the babies. It was far from glamorous, but each paycheck represented hope. Because they had started school—a tiny preschool three mornings a week—and I wanted to be able to pay for that too.

When I dropped Jimmy and Mimi off that first morning, Elizabeth’s mother held them gently, her eyes warm. “Your babies are my treasures now,” she said softly. My chest tightened at her kindness. She hugged me, fussed over my tired face.

“You’re looking pale, dear. Take care,” she whispered.

But that night, when I returned alone—no bump now—just me and the echo of that office day, I realized how much had changed. All I’d done was scrub toilets, empty bins, mop floors. But each bucket filled was a promise: I was doing this for them.

Days passed in the routine of late-night shifts and early trips to the twins’ house. Elizabeth became my lifeline. When Mimi screamed at night or Jimmy fell sick, I could call her cry for help. She’d rush over with thermometers, tea, and calm comfort. She’d sit with me as I rocked them into sleep, rubbing my back, whispering, “You’re doing great. They’re safe because of you.”

We joked one morning about my hair. It hadn’t been touched since before the twins. I caught my reflection in the train’s glass—long, tangled, messy. And something sparked inside me. That very afternoon, I took scissors and gave myself a trim. Not just a trim. I chopped off arm-length strands into a short, no-nonsense cut above my shoulders.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The face looked different. Harder. Stronger. Not Elena, the runaway mother, but someone else. “Andrea,” I whispered.

Elizabeth leaned in the doorway as I emerged. She blinked at me. “You’re no longer Elena,” she said, voice gentle. “You’re Andrea. And right now, you look like a boy—an intelligent, confident boy. That’s who you should be. Don’t show them Elena’s tears or that messy past. Be Andrea. Go back into that school as a boy—hide who they humiliated. Make them pay back for every cut.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her words. I nodded, and for the first time in months, I smiled.

The next day, we laid out the school uniform: grey trousers, white button-down, a blazer. Sweat pooled in my palms as I buttoned the shirt, tucked it in, slicked back my hair. I passed the reflection quickly—no tears, no trembling.

“This is me,” I repeated. “Andrea.”

Elizabeth showed me how to walk taller, lower my voice slightly, hide my curves. She taught me self-defence moves—quick punches, blocks, low strikes. She was patient as I fell more than I hit. But when I finally landed a clean hit on the training mitt, I felt exhilarated.

“You’re ready,” she said, eyes burning with pride. “Amelia and her crew won’t know what hit them.”

Just then, my phone buzzed. My father’s name glowed on the screen. My heart clenched. I’d heard him once since I left—angry, frustrated. But I answered.

“Elena—Andrea,” he barked immediately, despite me being the one to call. “Your rival’s son—the alpha leader at that academy—is attending that school. He’s a top student, dangerous, arrogant. You must kill him before he kills you.”

My hands clenched around the phone. “How am I supposed to find him? There are so many alphas there.”

“Listen,” he snarled. “They don’t hide. Alphas are loud. Someone with power will stand out. You’ll know him.”

He paused, then dropped another bomb. “I also learned that Jaxon—the alpha who fled for the city—is in this region. He must be found and killed. If he discovers you’re alive, he’ll kill you. He does not forgive betrayal.”

My breath caught. Two alphas to kill? My hands shook as he repeated himself: “Kill them or they kill you.”

He hung up before I could protest. I stared at the phone, tears I refused to shed gathering in my eyes. But beneath the shock, I felt steel grow inside me.

With trembling resolve, I tucked the phone away. Stefano’s orders were brutal—but meant to sharpen me. I was determined. They made me lean in rather than break.

That night, Elizabeth and I trained for hours. I moved in shadows, twisted into stances, practised right and left strikes, aimed to hit bone and muscle. She held pads; I hit them. Harder each time. Until I thought I might collapse.

“Enough,” she said gently, pulling me back. “That’s enough for tonight.”

I nodded, drained but exhilarated. My body ached, but I knew I had to rest. Tomorrow I’d begin applying for that school—this time as Andrea.