Chapter 2
Eileen's eyes locked onto me, her breathing turning rapid.
Across that plain, slightly swollen face of hers, a near-pathological hunger was written in every line.
The bone-china cup radiated warmth against my fingertips.
Beneath the herbal fragrance lurked a faint trace of bitter almond.
"Why aren't you drinking, Isabella? It loses its effect once it cools." She urged me on, her voice laced with manufactured concern — but the hands folded in her lap trembled with barely contained excitement.
I met her gaze and tilted my head. "Loses what effect?"
Eileen faltered, then recovered with an awkward smile. "Its calming effect, of course. For your anxiety."
I smiled faintly. "Really? And here I thought there might be something strange in this tea."
Then, without hesitation, under Eileen's eager, watchful eyes, I raised the cup and drained it in one swallow.
Since she wanted my body, she could have it.
How could she possibly know that an excessively beautiful face brings far more danger than she ever imagined?
I had known that my entire life.
Compared to this shell, her identity as the Godfather's daughter was the real source of power.
She didn't want to be the Godfather's good little girl anymore.
Then I would take her place.
"Thank you, Eileen. Having a friend like you — I'm truly lucky."
The warm liquid slid down my throat as I watched her with ice-cold eyes.
Eileen stared at the empty cup, and the wild joy in her gaze nearly spilled over.
She fought to steady her trembling voice, stood, and smoothed the folds of her skirt. "Well then, darling, get some good rest. I need to head back — Father's expecting me at home tonight. I'll come check on you first thing tomorrow morning."
She hummed a little tune as she left, her footsteps light. Her mood was clearly excellent.
"All right. Be safe on your way." I gave a weak smile and leaned back against the sofa cushions.
I knew the ancient soul-swapping elixir required a full day to complete the transfer between souls.
Eileen was rushing home now, most likely to wait in quiet anticipation for tomorrow's miracle.
She believed that when she woke in the morning, she would seamlessly inhabit my flawless body, while I would be trapped inside her ugly, unwanted frame — "Eileen" in every way that mattered.
But.
How could that possibly happen?
I walked into the washroom.
The woman in the mirror had a pair of soul-stirring eyes and skin as white as snow — God's most perfect creation.
"Since you want this shell so badly…" I stared at my reflection, my whisper hoarse and resolute, "then take it. As long as you truly enjoy it."
I found the small sterling-silver letter opener.
Its blade caught the soft light and threw back a cold, razor-sharp gleam.
I clenched my teeth and drove the point into my right cheek.
A piercing, savage pain instantly tore through the numbness left by the drug.
The sound of flesh splitting open was unmistakable in the quiet washroom.
I tightened my wrist and dragged the blade down, carving a deeper wound along the cheekbone.
Bright red blood erupted, blurring half my face in an instant, dripping from my jawline into the white basin below — blooming into vivid, shocking flowers of crimson.
Not enough. Not yet.
Fighting violent tremors, I slashed a matching gash across my left cheek.
The once-flawless face now bore nothing but two savage, crisscrossing furrows of torn flesh — like a demon's insignia.
When it was done, I pushed open the French double doors leading from the washroom to the terrace.
Wind roared in at once, scattering the heavy scent of blood.
This was the estate's second-floor terrace. The height was just right.
Below lay meticulously trimmed, rock-hard hedgerows and the unforgiving marble rim of a fountain. A fall from here wouldn't kill — but it would ruin this body beyond repair.
I wanted Eileen to wake up in the hospital tomorrow morning and face exactly what she had won.
The physical pain seemed to recede. In remarkably good spirits, I stepped to the edge.
I gripped the railing, swung myself over the marble balustrade. Blood loss and the drug made my body feel weightless. The world began to spin.
I smiled in silence and let myself fall backward, into the bottomless void.
The wind screamed past my ears. Gravity tore at me without mercy. In the final second before consciousness plunged into darkness, I heard the deafening crack of bone — and, from somewhere distant, the terrified shrieks of the servants.
"Goodbye, Isabella," I told myself.
"Let's welcome our brand-new life."
