31 The Boardroom Intrusion

Morning in Nina’s new prison was exactly as Rita had promised—rigid, exhausting, and completely devoid of free will. First, the alarm. That godforsaken alarm blaring at 5:30 a.m., jolting her awake like she was being drafted into battle. No snooze button. No mercy. Then came the real torture. "Step out of your room and proceed to the gym," Rita instructed. Oh, joy. Forty-five minutes of sheer hell followed. Push-ups, crunches, endless cardio—like she was training for the Olympics instead of impersonating a dead girl. And to top it all off, she was informed that this delightful routine would be a permanent part of her daily schedule. By the time it was over, her limbs felt like jelly. But instead of collapsing on the floor like her body desperately wanted to, she was told to return to her room—for precisely thirty minutes—to "refresh and dress accordingly." And yes, even how she dressed was dictated to her. Next stop: the waiting room. There, she was expected to memorize

32. Flashback Four

As Nina approached the grand entrance, two massive guards stood at attention, their faces carved from stone. The woman beside her—Aubrielle, as Nina now knew—casually reached into her purse and pulled out an identification card. She flashed it at them with the kind of confidence that suggested she was used to walking into places like this without question. Then—something unexpected. The moment the guards' eyes landed on Nina, their expressions shifted. Shock. Recognition. Something close to disbelief. She frowned. What was that about? They just… stared, as if she were some kind of ghost, their confusion stretching uncomfortably long until Aubrielle snapped her fingers, breaking the spell. One of the guards quickly straightened, pressing a hand to his earpiece before speaking into it. “Sir,” he said, voice carefully measured, “Miss Aubrielle Farrel is here to see you with… with Miss Adelaide.” Nina nearly choked. Adelaide? She must have misheard. That wasn’t her name.

33. A Personal Beef

The rest of the day after the board meeting passed in a blur—yet somehow, it still managed to be exhausting. By the time dinner concluded, Nina felt as if she had been wrung dry. When she was finally dismissed to retire for the night, she nearly sagged with relief. Back in her room, she peeled off her clothes and sank into the bathtub, letting the warm water envelop her like a cocoon. Her muscles ached, her mind swirled with thoughts, and despite the overwhelming fatigue, she couldn’t stop herself from comparing her past life to the one she now inhabited. It was almost laughable. Before, she had been fighting to survive—scraping by, doing whatever was necessary just to keep going. And now? She was still fighting, just on a grander, far more dangerous scale. Life was brutal, no matter one’s position. The only difference between the wealthy and the desperate was the resources at their disposal. But comparisons were meaningless. No matter how difficult things became in this new exis

34. A New Task

The moment she settled into the conference hall, the screen flickered to life—revealing Bruce and Janet already seated. Both were in their nightwear, a detail that struck her immediately. But it wasn’t just their attire that caught her attention. It was the contrast between their expressions. Janet greeted her with a warm smile, one that radiated a motherly softness. Bruce, in stark opposition, wore a look of barely concealed disapproval, his lips pressed into a firm, unforgiving line. A promising start. “Good evening,” Nina said, forcing a polite smile as she adjusted in her seat. Janet’s smile widened. “I hope we didn’t disturb your sleep?” She shook her head. “Of course not. I wasn’t even asleep yet.” Janet’s smile dimmed ever so slightly. “Oh? Why is that? Something on your mind?” There was something disarming about Janet’s tone, a brush of genuine concern that caught her off guard. “Not really… I was just about to sleep when Rita announced that there was a meeting.

35. Flashback Five

What do you mean I’m getting adopted?” Nina barely recognized her own voice—sharp, disbelieving, tethering on the edge of something dangerously close to panic. Don just chuckled, as though she’d cracked a joke instead of demanded an explanation. “I think you should be happy,” he said smoothly, slipping a phone from his pocket. “Fate has finally smiled on you.” His fingers moved across the screen, and then he turned the phone toward her. “Take a look at this. Do you recognize the girl?” She didn’t move. Didn’t even glance at the screen. Because none of this made sense. Because she didn’t trust him. Because she was this close to losing her mind. So she just stared at his face, unmoving. Don sighed, exasperated. “Come on, just look.” She didn’t want to. But if humoring him meant getting this bizarre conversation over with faster, then fine. Snatching the phone from his hand, she dragged her gaze to the image on the screen. At first, she barely processed what she

36. The Practical Class

The next morning, after completing her usual routine, Nina was subjected to a protocol lecture—a crash course in how to walk, talk, and even eat like Adelaide Whitlock. There were rules for everything: how to move indoors, how to carry herself in public, how to exist without setting off alarms. And then came the real torment. The practical session had started an hour ago, but Rita, in all her sadistic glory, seemed to have no intention of letting it end. She made Nina repeat the exercises again and again, finding fault in everything, taking obvious delight in sending her back to square one. “Again,” Rita commanded. Nina groaned, dragging a frustrated hand through her hair. “Wrong,” Rita snapped. “A lady never carelessly ruffles her hair—especially not in public. One must always treat their appearance with care. But clearly, you don’t seem to grasp that. Again.” Nina exhaled sharply. “Why do you hate me so much?” she asked. Rita let out a light, almost amused chuckle. “O