LOGIN“You look like her… but you’re not her. Are you?” Nina never asked for this life. But when the powerful Whitlock family offers her a chance to wipe her family's generational debt in exchange for one thing—becoming their dead daughter—she says yes. Now, she lives in Adelaide Whitlock’s mansion. Sleeps in her bed. Wears her clothes. Even answers to her name. All she has to do is fool everyone—Adelaide’s icy parents, the ruthless elite ruling the six families, and worst of all… the two men who knew Adelaide best. Axel, the perfect fiancé who seems too loyal to be true. Nathan, the forbidden flame who stirs up feelings Nina should not be having. But as Nina digs deeper into Adelaide’s past, cracks start to show. Memories don’t line up. Secrets bubble beneath the surface. And the biggest twist? Adelaide’s ghost—figuratively or not—refuses to stay buried. Now, Nina must choose: Keep the illusion alive… or destroy it before it destroys her. But what happens when ghost you're replacing refuses to stay dead ?
View More"Hello?" Nina forced a grin, praying it might soften Bruce’s expression even slightly. It didn’t. His face was set like stone—unreadable, except for the unmistakable irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “Rita just reported something to me,” he said coolly. “And I want to hear it from you. Explain what just happened.” Nina blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed again. What was she even supposed to say? Oops, my bad for standing up for myself? “I didn’t mean to be rebellious,” she mumbled. “Oh, you’ll have to do better than that.” His voice was sharp now—cutting. “It seems we made a huge mistake accepting you into our lives because, clearly, you still love your life back in the gutters.” Her chest tightened. The gutters? “If you’re tired of this, just say it outright, and we’ll do you the favor of sending you back where you came from.” His eyes bore into hers, daring her to push back. She didn’t. “Now, in case you’re forgetting something, let me remind you—you are
Just as Don had instructed, Terry drove her home in the limousine. A limousine. The kind of car that belonged in a billionaire’s driveway or rolling up to a red carpet event—not parked in front of her rundown neighborhood. Even as Terry stepped out and opened the door for her like she was some kind of VIP, she still couldn’t wrap her head around any of it. It was too surreal, too out of place. Like she’d stumbled into someone else’s life, and any second now, reality was going to snap back and remind her who she really was. But it didn’t. Instead, Terry didn’t stop at just opening the door—he actually carried the suitcase for her, striding toward her house like a personal butler. She trailed behind him, dragging her feet, stealing glances at the limousine that felt like a glitch in the universe. Even Terry, with his pristine suit and perfect posture, looked like he had been copy-pasted from a different world entirely. When they reached the front door, she froze. Her p
Twenty minutes until the call, and Nina was a mess. Her nerves were shot, her hands shaky. Maybe if she hadn’t witnessed Axel storming into the boardroom like a man on a mission the day before, she’d be calmer. Maybe if she wasn’t being spoon-fed instructions on exactly how to handle him, this whole thing would feel less suffocating. But here she was, stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying to embody a woman she wasn’t. She dabbed another layer of foundation onto her face, staring at her reflection with growing frustration. Even though she and Adelaide had the same face, Nina still didn’t see herself looking like Adelaide no matter how much she tried. Every lipstick shade she picked felt wrong. Red was Adelaide’s signature color, bold and striking—but on Nina? It made her feel ridiculous. Like a clown in an expensive disguise. Even Rita had once thought so of her too. “You seem to be struggling with what to wear on your face,” Rita’s voice chimed in, smooth and ever-so-intr
Ten minutes later, Nina had finished her lunch and had barely begun to digest it before Rita was on her case again. “Proceed to the classroom immediately,” Rita ordered, her voice crisp and unrelenting. “Your lessons on the Whitlocks’ lifestyle and achievements begin now.” Nina sighed but dragged herself there anyway, knowing full well there was no escape. The lecture that followed was mind-numbingly monotonous. Rita droned on, rattling off achievements, historical milestones, and the intricacies of Whitlock etiquette, while Nina sat with an open textbook in front of her, pretending to follow along. She nodded occasionally—just enough to give the illusion that she was paying attention. But of course, Rita wasn’t content with merely lecturing. Every so often, she would pause mid-sentence to correct Nina’s posture. “Straighten your back,” she snapped. “No signs of fatigue. A Whitlock does not slouch.” Nina gritted her teeth and obeyed, forcing her spine into an impossibly
“And we shall all raise our glasses and cheer to that!” Nina turned quickly toward the speaker, her eyes locking with Axel’s. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—a glint of approval, or perhaps amusement—that left her both unsettled and oddly satisfied. Waiters mo
Mrs. Whitlock’s lips tightened, then softened. “We are counting on you,” she said, her voice low and weighted with expectation. “I know,” Nina replied, her voice steady, even if her hands weren’t. Mr. Whitlock stepped forward, commanding the room with an ease born from decades of power. “Now,”
A sharp pang of panic surged through her. Was he coming to confront her? Had he seen something in her face, something that betrayed the illusion? This wasn’t part of the script. She had practiced for countless scenarios—every line, every expression, every calculated interaction. But no one had pr
The man’s feet dragged limply across the polished marble floor, his weight sagging between the two guards who hauled him forward without ceremony. His dark suit was rumpled, his tie askew, his head lolling like a puppet with its strings cut. Nina’s breath hitched. The crowd had begun to shift,


















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