Chapter 2 And your eyes are not the same

Zella 

I kept my eyes on the road, but my thoughts were far from it. Today was the day I had to face the Cristopher family. The day I had to step into my sister’s life and pretend to be her.

For the past two days, I had done nothing but study Zaria. The way she talks. The way she walks. The way she looks at people. I had to learn everything, because one mistake could cost all of us our lives. We may share the same face, but we are nothing alike.

I have never cared about makeup. I like simple things, simple clothes, simple living. People still call me beautiful, even without trying. But Zaria is different. She grew up surrounded by luxury. She dresses like she owns the world. Her face is always painted, her lips always red, her presence is bold and hard to ignore. She knows how to draw people in.

I do not. My hair falls straight down my back, dark and plain. Hers is brown and styled to catch attention. Everything about her demands attention, while everything about me tries to stay out of sight.

“Try to act like Zaria,” Uncle Silas said from beside me.

“I will do my best,” I answered.

“Do not let the Cristopher family find out who you really are,” he continued. “Rowan’ relatives, his stepmother, Mr. Brave Cristopher, Madam Catherine. If they suspect anything, we are all dead. Remember everything about Zaria.”

“I understand.”

The car moved into a private estate, far from the noise of the city. We were in Mexico City, but this place felt like it belonged to a different world. I caught myself staring before I could stop.

The house was massive. Trees lined the path, trimmed like someone controlled every branch. A wide lawn stretched out in front, with a fountain placed right in the middle. Everything looked expensive, like nothing here was left to chance.

“These people are not normal, Zella,” Uncle Silas said. “They will kill you without thinking twice. Rowan does not love Zaria. He only kept her because of his son.”

His words made me wonder again what kind of woman my sister really is. What kind of person leaves her own child behind? I could never do that. The car stopped in front of the house.

My heart gave a hard beat.

A man stood there, tall, broad, and completely still. He looked around thirty seven, dressed in a way that made it clear he was used to power. His face looked unreal, but there was nothing warm about him. His blue eyes locked onto us like he already owned whatever he was looking at. Beside him stood a small boy, holding his hand. The child looked quiet, like he had been waiting for a long time.

I felt my fingers tighten around my bag without realizing it. Why am I this scared?

“Papa promised he would bring your mother back,” the man said to the boy. Then he pointed at me. “There she is. Your mother.”

I had to swallow before I could move. Uncle Silas nudged me forward.

“Do not forget the photos I showed you. That is your husband now. That is Rowan,” he said under his breath.

I made myself take a step forward. I lifted my chin, shaped my lips into a proud smile, and walked toward them. If I was going to survive this, I had to become Zaria. Not a softer version of hers or a better version. I need to be her. I lowered myself in front of the boy so our eyes were level.

“Did you miss me?” I asked.

Rowan watched me, his gaze cold.

“Pa…” the boy said, his voice small.

“Did you not say you wanted to see your mother?” Rowan asked him.

The boy nodded.

I picked him up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He was warm and soft, and something inside me chamged. This child is my nephew.

“I have brought your wife back, Mr. Rowan,” Uncle Silas said. “I hope you keep your word about the investment.”

“That depends on her,” Rowan replied. “If she disappears again and makes my son cry, I will kill you and your entire family.”

My stomach dropped, but I kept my face in place.

“Then I will take my leave,” Uncle Silas said. “Zaria, behave yourself. Do whatever your husband tells you.”

I wanted to nod, but I remembered who I was supposed to be.

“That depends on how my dear husband treats me,” I said with a small smile. “Give me what I want, and I will be exactly what he needs.”

Saying that made me feel sick, but I had no choice. Uncle Silas walked away, leaving me alone with Rowan and Dante. Dante wrapped his arms around me tightly.

Rowan leaned closer, his voice low. “If you leave again without a word, I will kill you.”

Then he walked off like he had already said everything that mattered. I stood there holding Dante, not knowing where to go or what to do next. I have no idea where anything is.

“Dante… where is your room?” I asked softly. “And Mama’s room?”

He looked at me, confused.

“Are… are you really my mama?”

My grip on him tightened before I could stop it.

“Of course I am. Why would you ask that?”

“Papa said you are Mama… but Mama is different,” he said quietly. I forced myself to keep my voice even.

“How am I different?” I asked.

“Usually Mama gets angry when Papa is not around,” he said. “And your eyes are not the same.”

I made myself smile.

“I will not be like that anymore,” I said. “And my eyes have always been like this.”

“I love Mama,” he said, holding onto me. “Do not leave me again.”

I kissed both his cheeks.

“I will not leave you.”

He pointed upstairs.

I carried him up to the second floor, walking through a long hallway while people watched me with open dislike. I did not know any of them, but I could feel it. They hated Zaria. I stopped in front of a door with Dante’s name on it and walked inside.

The room was beautiful. Toys everywhere. Expensive ones. Shelves filled with tiny buildings, cars, trains, even planes that looked real.

“Ma…”

“Yes?”

“You have never told me a story before.”

I blinked, then smiled.

“Do you want one?”

He nodded quickly. I sat beside him on the bed and began to tell him a story from memory. No book. Just words. He listened like it was the most important thing in the world. So this is what he has been missing. When he finally lay down, his eyes were already closing.

“Tell me another story tomorrow,” he said softly. “And do not get angry at me.”

“I will not.”

“If you stay like this… then the old Mama should not come back,” he added.

For a second, I stopped breathing. This child can already tell. If anyone else notices, everything will fall apart. But I can not treat him the way Zaria did. I just can not. Even if it puts me at risk.

“Dante,” I called passionately.

He looked at me, half asleep.

I made myself smile, but my heart was racing. I have stepped into a life that is not mine. And I do not know how long I can keep this going.