Chapter 0003

•ANEIRA•

I never slept a wink that night until morning. I couldn't stop thinking about Narra's death, Chris, and my wedding to Rafael.

Everything felt so wrong.

I stood at the entrance of Narra’s bedroom, watching my mother erase my entire existence as she prepared my wedding to Rafael.

She was mumbling something as she lined up my new identity documents on the bed.

I shook my head in disbelief when I saw the new ID, driver’s license, and academic certificates, all in Narra’s name.

She had paid for everything and told me not to worry about Rafael finding out about my true identity, because he wouldn't even know.

I was already dressed in Narra’s wedding gown and had a thick veil over my face. My mother sighed as she straightened up and turned to me.

“You won’t need to speak much,” she said as she leaned toward me. “Just the vows. Rafael has only met Narra a few times, so he won't know you're not her."

I swallowed and nodded. My father was the reason I was doing this. The surgery was too expensive, and without a job, I wouldn't be able to pay his medical bills.

Rafael had already settled the amount, and my father’s crucial surgery was scheduled for tomorrow morning.

“What if he notices?” I asked, meeting her gaze.

"You and Narra were identical twins, Aneira," she corrected me, her tone harsher. "But if he notices, you'd better ensure he doesn't care."

"If he finds out I tricked him, he'd kill me," I retorted, feeling my stomach tightening. "Not so long ago, there were rumors that he had been accused of murder, but left the court without a trial. I can't be his next victim."

"Your father and this family will be done for if you don't do this, or is that what you want?"

I sighed. "No, Mom."

***

The ceremony was held in a private garden overlooking the sea, hidden behind high stone walls and flowering hedges.

It was intimate to the point of secrecy. Only the officiant, two discreet witnesses, and my mother were present.

I walked down the short aisle, feeling as if I were walking straight to my death. The bouquet in my hands felt heavy, and I wished for something to happen that would stop the wedding before it could start.

Rafael stood at the end of the aisle wearing a tuxedo that made him seem like a composed gentleman. One would swear he didn't kill people for sport.

I always wondered why Narra was marrying him. We always argued when I wanted to know why she chose him out of all the men in San Francisco.

She could've had any man she wanted, but him. He was unredeemable, and I loathed every second I thought he would be my husband.

The officiant spoke. I heard only fragments until my name—or rather, her name—reached me.

“Do you, Narra Elizabeth Colombo, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

My throat tightened. I drew in a breath that felt too shallow. “I do,” I answered.

Rafael’s voice followed, calm and unwavering. “I do.”

The rings were simple diamond bands. His hand was warm when he slid mine into place.

When I returned the gesture, my fingers trembled despite my effort to keep them still.

“You may kiss the bride.”

He lifted the veil slowly, giving me time to steady myself. For a heartbeat, his gaze searched my face.

I braced for recognition, for suspicion, for something that would shatter the illusion.

Instead, he leaned in and kissed me. For a moment, I almost leaned into the kiss before he pulled back.

The officiant declared us husband and wife, and my mother and the other two witnesses applauded, and the photographs were taken quickly.

"It's done," my mother whispered. "Now you belong to Rafael," she muttered before she turned around and left without another word.

It felt like I was on auction and sold to the highest bidder. When she said I belonged to Rafael, it sounded as if I were an object, and my life wasn't mine anymore.

The witnesses signed their names and disappeared, and the officiant followed.

Then there were only the two of us.

Rafael offered his arm, and I took it because there was nothing else to do. I smiled, trying to convince him I was happy. Narra would've been happy.

You'd swear she wasn't marrying him for his money so he could save our father. I thought it was out of pure love.

Rafael’s car waited on the other side of the driveway. It was a black Mercedes, and when we approached, it opened on its own.

Rafael helped me hop inside, and I stared at my hands, at the unfamiliar ring gleaming against my skin. Narra Sterling. That was my name now.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “For helping my father.”

He turned his head slightly. “It was part of our agreement. Your family’s debts are settled. He will receive the best care available.”

I nodded, unsure how to respond. Narra would've known what to say. Narra would've been gracious, poised, and believable.

After a moment, he spoke again. “You’ve been through a great deal. Losing your sister so suddenly… I didn’t expect you to show up at the wedding."

"Thank you for your sympathies, Rafael," I answered, trying to keep my voice gentle as Narra’s was. "But my sister wouldn't have wanted me to spend my time crying instead of celebrating the life she left behind."

"She must have been a good sister," he said as he looked forward.

"Yes, she was," I answered as I looked out the window.

The city buildings disappeared behind us as the car took a private route to a private estate ahead. The gates were the tallest gates I had ever seen.

The house was a castle, but on the modern side with glass doors and windows. It was breathtaking.

A woman in uniform took Rafael’s jacket and disappeared.

He then gestured for me to follow and led me up a staircase leading to the second floor.

“This will be your suite,” he informed me. “My suite is through that door. I will be there when you need me.” He gestured to the second door opposite mine.

The suite was beautiful, and I realized the walk-in closet was already packed with clothes. None of the clothes on the hanger belonged to me.

“The clothes are more appropriate for your new role,” he said when he sensed my confusion. “For public appearances, dinners, and travel.”

“What if I prefer certain styles?” I asked.

“We can discuss that later,” he replied. “For now, I’d ask that you present yourself as my wife.” He turned to leave, then paused. “Dinner is at eight. Rest until then.”

The door closed softly behind him.

I looked around the suite and sighed. I was still wearing my wedding dress when I walked into the closet to find something comfortable.

But all the clothes there were designer clothes, brands, tailored, and nowhere near comfortable.

I rolled my eyes as I walked back to the bed and sat down.

I covered my face with my hands and cried. I felt like a thief who had stolen someone's life.

How was I ever going to breathe or do anything without feeling like the life I was living wasn't my own?