Reclaiming the Throne

Weeks slipped by, and I had no choice but to embrace my new identity as Kristie Gray. Wearing another woman's face, slipping into her life—it was suffocating. But Dr. Chelsea had made it clear: this was the only way forward. Her daughter, the renowned supermodel Kristie, was gone. And now, I had become her shadow.

Every day was training. Dr. Chelsea drilled me on Kristie's habits—how she moved, spoke, and carried herself. It felt less like learning and more like losing myself to a stranger. But the fire inside me kept me going. Revenge was the only thing that kept me from drowning.

One afternoon, while I was practicing the poised, effortless walk of a supermodel, Dr. Chelsea’s phone buzzed. Her face darkened as she glanced at the screen before stepping away to take the call. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but her sharp, hushed voice was impossible to ignore.

When she returned, her expression was unreadable. "An opportunity has come up."

I wiped my damp palms on my dress. "What kind of opportunity?"

"Gabriel is hosting an exclusive auction. Private guest list. My assistant, Calvin, secured a VIP pass for you. He knows everything and can be trusted."

Hearing Gabriel’s name made my stomach tighten. I already knew what she wanted. "And you expect me to go?"

She met my gaze, unwavering. "You're Kristie now. He won’t be able to ignore you."

---

The night of the auction, I arrived in a deep blue gown that shimmered under the chandeliers. Every inch of me—my posture, my makeup, the tilt of my chin—had been designed to be flawless. I no longer felt like myself.

I felt like her.

As I stepped inside, murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers trailing behind me. Ignoring them, I scanned the lavish room until my eyes locked onto him.

Gabriel Carson.

He was effortlessly charming, his smile perfectly curated as he entertained his guests. The sight of him made my blood boil. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to lash out.

Then, he turned and saw me.

For the briefest moment, shock flickered in his eyes before he masked it with feigned confusion. I steadied my breathing, lifted my chin, and strode toward him.

“E-Kristie?” His voice faltered, barely above a whisper.

I let a smirk play on my lips. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Gabriel."

He swallowed, his polished exterior cracking. "I… I wasn’t expecting you."

Without another word, I raised my hand and struck him across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed, but the crowd around us remained oblivious. Gabriel staggered slightly, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t retaliate.

"That was for everything you’ve done," I said, voice low and venomous.

He didn’t respond. The suffocating silence between us was louder than any words. I turned sharply and disappeared into the sea of guests before he could recover.

---

Once the auction commenced, I slipped away, navigating the hallways toward his private office. Dr. Chelsea had told me there might be something valuable hidden inside—something that could expose him.

The room was pristine, too perfectly arranged. My pulse hammered as I rifled through drawers, scanning files. There had to be proof, something tangible—

Footsteps.

I froze, ducking behind a curtain just as the door creaked open.

"You told me she was dead!" a woman’s voice hissed.

Janette. His assistant.

"You swore Kelsey was gone, Gabriel! This isn’t possible! There’s no way she survived!"

My lungs seized. She was talking about me.

"Lower your damn voice," Gabriel snapped. "Do you want someone to overhear?"

"We planned everything! The explosion should've killed her! Why haven’t they found the body?" Janette’s tone was sharp, accusatory.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It wasn’t an accident.

Gabriel exhaled in frustration. "She’s dead. That’s all that matters."

Janette scoffed. "You better pray you’re right. If anyone finds out—"

Their voices faded as they left, but I didn’t move. My nails dug into my palms.

He tried to kill me.

They both did.

---

As the final guests trickled out, I slipped through the exit, my mind racing. My breath came in short, furious bursts. I needed air. I needed—

The sleek black car was parked at the curb, waiting for me. Calvin was supposed to pick me up, but I didn’t see him. Something felt off.

Then, the screech of tires tore through the night.

A black van skidded around the corner and halted in front of me.

Panic gripped my chest.

Before I could react, the van doors slammed open.

"Get her!"

Masked men lunged toward me.

I turned on my heel and ran. My dress clung to my legs, my heels clicking against the pavement. I had no direction, only desperation.

“Don’t let her get away!”

Adrenaline propelled me forward. I turned down a narrow alley, gasping for breath.

A rough hand clamped around my arm, yanking me back. I screamed, thrashing against the iron grip.

A cloth pressed against my face. The sickly-sweet scent of chloroform invaded my senses.

"No—!" My plea faded as the world around me dissolved into black.

---

When consciousness returned, I was slumped in a cold metal chair, my wrists bound behind me. A dim light flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the cracked concrete walls.

A figure stepped forward, their silhouette hauntingly familiar.

"You should’ve stayed dead."