Chapter 2

It rained on her burial, and it was fitting. At least, the heavens were mindful enough to mourn with them. I wasn't too happy with the arrangements, Dad had made it quiet. 

He made sure that nobody was aware of it. Just me, Michelle who was my childhood friend, and a couple of people from the club. The priest who'd officiated the ceremony looked sketchy, and I later found out that it was Casey who recommended him. 

Dahlia didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve a half-assed burial ceremony with only five people in attendance, she did too much good to be sent off like that. 

"I can't believe she's gone," Chandler mentioned, his dark eyes glassy. 

Casey shook her head, "She promised me a manicure this weekend, I should've done it for her instead." 

I didn't say anything until it was over, and even then I just retired to my room and stayed there throughout the rest of the day. 

The week dragged by, and each day was a reminder that she was truly gone and never returning. Sometimes, I would find myself in her room, sleeping in her bed, and most of the time, I would catch my father there instead. 

Nothing was ever the same again. Even the club had lost its usual vibrancy, when people asked about her, we simply said she was done with the flu and had to be quarantined at home. 

Michelle was constantly checking up on me, making sure that I was eating and mostly keeping me company. I had a feeling that Dad put her up to it, and I worried how he was coping with the grief.

Now they lost two people from their family, Dahlia and Mom. 

At the very least, Mom wouldn't be lonely up there anymore, and Dahlia would have to keep her company.

I didn't know if it worked like that, but I love to think that it did. Her death didn't hurt so much when she thought of it that way. 

Soon, it was the weekend and Dahlia's date with Giovanni has arrived. A pang of anxiety kept me up throughout the night, even Dad was nervous. 

Although we were twins, Dahlia and I couldn't be more different. For example, while she spotted a professional short haircut that stopped at her neck, my hair was long and unruly, ending at my back.

The only silver lining was in the shade, neither of us had dyed our hair, keeping the natural light brown shade. 

"I brought Casey to help you," Dad told me, "He'll be here in two hours, is that enough time for you?"

Casey stepped out from behind him, waving the bag in her hold, "That's more than enough time, boss." 

I watched the two of them with disinterest, I wasn't too excited about cutting my hair. I'd gone through a lot of pain to grow it out to this length and now it was all going away.

"We're going to donate it to the hospital," Casey suddenly said, ushering me towards the dresser, "A lot of kids are going to be grateful for your contribution."

A small smile curved my lips, and she grinned. Casey was just like that, she always knew what was going on in my head. Over the years, she'd gone from being a regular bartender at my father's club to both mine and Dahlia's friend. 

"Don't worry, Hun," Casey rested her chin against my shoulder, "I'm going to make you look beautiful." 

"You're supposed to make me look like her."

"Well," She dragged the word, a mischievous smirk on her face, "Your father did say I could do what I wanted."

"Casey-" I tried to argue but she placed a finger on my lips, silencing me.

"Don't worry, babe," She hushed, "Just close your eyes and relax." 

I nodded, wordless, and rested against the backrest, shutting my eyes tightly. 

A big part of me felt pain, while I blindly agreed to steal my sister's identity it didn't mean that it was an easy decision. 

I wasn't just going to act like her, I was going to become her for as long as I lived. 

I would marry her fiancee, and possibly bear children under her name. Everything I would do and say from this moment, was not going to be accounted to me,

But as Dahlia Monroe. I wasn't just going to take her identity, I would be giving up my life as well. 

A warm tear rolled down my eyes even as I felt the snip of the scissors going through my hair. 

This was it. The end of Daisy Monroe, the end of me. 

I didn't know how much time had passed, but Casey told me to open my eyes, and I did. The reflection that stared back at me rendered me speechless for a very long moment.

"So?" Casey chuckled, coming to stand beside me, "How did I do?"

"I look-" The words couldn't leave my mouth, it was too heavy, "I look just like her, Casey."

Casey laughed, throwing her head back, "That was what I wanted to hear."

My usual tousled hair was replaced with a sleek chin-length style that framed my face perfectly. My pink nail polish was gone, instead ivory coated nails glimmered back at me. 

Even the makeup was flawless, she'd even mimicked Dahlia's famous cat eyeliner. The only difference was the hair, rather than straightening it like my sister would've done, she let my curls flow freely and that almost made me tear up.

"Thank you," I whispered shakily, and she shrugged, waving me off.

"We'll be meeting up tomorrow so I can give you tips on how to do this yourself. If you're going to marry that mobster, then you'll have to learn how to cover your tracks well."

"Thank you, Casey." 

"Well, I have to admit that I did outdo myself."

Both of us shared a laughter that was soon interrupted by the sound of a car honk.

"He's here," she said, and I nodded. 

Casey helped me dress up as quickly as she could. My outfit was a combination of all the things I would never wear as Daisy. 

A burgundy colored sundress that has a little belt around the waist, and black heels that looked more like a death trap. She handed me a black blazer to throw over my shoulders, and a small clutch purse to complete the look.

By the time we were done, I looked more Dahlia than Dahlia herself. 

"Come on! Go, go, go," She shooed me out of the room, locking the door behind me so I couldn't run back inside. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, and began my descent downstairs. I could hear the faint sound of conversations and laughter, Dad's voice being the loudest. 

When I stepped into their view, the conversation died instantly and four pairs of eyes landed on me. I scanned through the three large men in our living room, my gaze found his instantly, 

Giovanni Orlando. He was right in front of me, and he was staring at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the room. 

He truly believed I was Dahlia.

I'd never seen him before, only glimpses and maybe that was for the better. He never knew of my existence either, my father had made sure of it.

I continued walking until I was in front of him, and he took my hand, pressing his lips on top of my skin,

"Bellissimo," He whispered, his voice rough and hard, "You look splendid, my love."

This was it. My fate had been sealed already, I was going to become his bride and there was no turning back from this. 

He smiled, his dark eyes shining with affection, "My Dahlia." 

And I did the only thing I could think of at that moment, 

I smiled back.