Chapter 3

Maria's POV

The past two weeks were a blur of expensive gowns, forced smiles, and aching silence.

Elias and I had attended five events in just twelve days. Five. Each one more extravagant than the last. Each one reminding me of just how invisible I had become, even while standing next to the most visible man in every room.

There was the city's annual Arts and Culture Gala, where women walked around in glittering dresses and the air reeked of champagne and ambition. Elias wore a black tuxedo with a silk pocket square folded to perfection. He looked like the man he always was, flawless, cold, unreachable, handsome. All eyes turned to him and remained. I wore a pale blue off-shoulder dress his assistant picked out, with a slit up the side that made me feel naked every time I moved.

I stood beside him like decoration.

People smiled at us like we were royalty, but I could read their eyes. They looked at me the same way they looked at the paintings; expensive, nice to look at, but not meant to speak. Not meant to exist beyond the frame.

Then there was the downtown development banquet, the private tech fundraiser at a glass hotel rooftop, a luxury real estate launch where Elias made a speech about "building beauty from ruin" (I still don't know if he meant architecture or himself), and a business conference in Manhattan with every billionaire you can think of, all clapping for themselves in the same hotel ballroom.

And through it all, I smiled.

I signed when spoken to. Nodded when people tried to engage, only for them to awkwardly look away. They didn't know how to talk to someone like me. They didn't understand how much I could see even when I said nothing. And Elias, for all his charm, for all his perfect posture and well-timed affection, never held my hand when no one was watching.

He was affectionate when the lights were on. Staring deep into my eyes, touching me lightly, smiling at me, all things I craved when we were alone.

But once the cameras were gone, I returned to being furniture in his world.

And I was tired. Bone-deep tired.

It was after one of those long nights, a business dinner where I ate a salmon dish I didn't like and wore earrings so heavy my ears ached that I finally did it.

Isaac had fallen asleep in bed, Elias was still in his study despite being up and about all day, and the house was too quiet. I stood barefoot in the kitchen, staring out the window with a glass of water in my hand, phone heavy in the other. My reflection stared back at me, eyes dull, mouth in a straight line.

I opened Lucia's contact.

I didn't let myself think twice.

The phone rang once. Twice.

"Hello?" Her voice was scratchy, groggy. Like she'd just woken up.

I quickly typed on my phone:

"It's Maria. Can we meet?"

There was a pause.

Then she responded, "Tonight?"

I hesitated. Then typed:

"Tomorrow. Please."

Another beat.

"Fine. Where?"

Throughout that night, I tossed and tuned. I couldn't sleep. My mind played several things at once, regret, determination, hatred for myself seeping in. I didn't know if I was making the right decision but if I didn't at least try, I was sure my body would be found one day. I had to try, for Isaac, for myself and whether I wanted to agree or not, for Elias.

It would be only for a while. I can't leave my son to grow in the hands of a different woman. I just need to be myself for a few months and I'll be back.

That was my decision.

We met the next day at a diner just off 12th Lexington. A far cry from the luxury lounges I was used to. The inside was dim, with sticky menus, tired booths, and a humming ceiling fan that buzzed every few seconds. The people in it looked hungry but carefree. But it smelled like pancakes and old coffee, and for some reason, it made me feel... safe. I would give anything to be free like these people.

Lucia walked in ten minutes late. She looked thinner than I remembered. Her hoodie was two sizes too big, the sleeves hanging past her wrists. Her jeans were ripped, not stylishly, just worn through. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun, roots dark against the faded dye. And her eyes... her eyes looked older than mine.

She slid into the booth across from me and gave me a once-over. "Wow. You still look like a fairy tale."

I offered a soft smile.

Lucia grabbed a menu but didn't open it. "So? What's this about? Why did you call?"

I typed:

"I wanted to see you. And talk. Really talk."

Lucia leaned back in the booth. "Well, I don't have much to say unless you're paying."

I looked at her for a long moment before typing:

"I want to know about your life. Where you've been."

She laughed once, dry and humorless. "Why? So you can write a memoir?"

I didn't respond. I just waited.

Eventually, she exhaled. "Fine. You really want to know? It's been hell, Maria. Ten years of hell."

She paused, then started picking at the corner of the menu. "After you got adopted, I bounced around group homes for another two years. Aged out at eighteen. No money. No family. I worked at a 24-hour grocery store for a while, then a strip club. At first, I was just bartending. Then I started dancing. Then dancing turned into other things."

I raised a brow

Her voice dropped. "Things I won't tell you about."

I swallowed, my throat tight. I typed slowly:

"You don't have to explain. I just wanted to know you're okay."

She snorted. "Do I look okay?"

I didn't answer.

Lucia leaned forward, her voice quieter. "I've been sleeping on a mattress with springs that stab my back. Living with three other girls, none of whom I trust. Eating cheap takeout when I can afford it. And I'm behind on rent again."

She crossed her arms. "I owe someone seven grand. Not the kind of person you ignore for long."

Seven thousand dollars.

My heart dropped.

"I can pay that", I typed.

Lucia's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I can pay it. I want to."

She laughed bitterly. "Why? Because I'm pathetic? Because you pity me?"

"Because I'm your sister."

Lucia was quiet. She looked away, blinking fast. "It's been ten years, Maria. Ten years and nothing. Not a call. Not a letter. You disappeared."

"I didn't have a choice. You know that."

She didn't respond.

The waitress came over, breaking the silence. I ordered a Caesar salad and black coffee. Lucia got a bacon cheeseburger, extra fries, and a chocolate milkshake. When the food came, she devoured it like she hadn't eaten in days.

I watched her. My twin. My other half.

Somewhere in that messy bun and oversized hoodie was the girl who used to braid my hair and protect me from bullies. The girl who gave me her shoes in winter. The girl who shouted at anyone who mocked me for not speaking or for being deaf many years ago.

I waited until she was done eating before I typed:

"I need a favor."

She eyed me suspiciously. "What kind of favor?" Her cheeks still filled with food.

"I want to leave my life. Just for a while. I need to be alone. To breathe. I want you to take my place."

Lucia's fork froze halfway to her mouth. "What?" Her words sounded muffled but I still understood perfectly.

"Take my place. Pretend to be me. Be Elias's wife. For a little while."

She stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you high?"

"I'm serious."

"No." She shook her head. "That's insane. I can't, he'll know. I'm not like you. I don't walk like you. I don't talk like you."

"I'll teach you. We'll keep it simple. We already barely speak to each other. I'll handle the details."

Lucia opened her mouth to protest again, but I typed faster:

"I'll pay you. Ten thousand. Up front."

She went quiet.

Then she laughed again, but softer this time. "You're not joking."

I shook my head.

"Three days. I'll get everything ready. You just have to show up. Be me. Smile. Stay quiet."

Lucia bit her lip. Her voice was barely a whisper now. "And what will you do?"

"Live."

She looked at me for a long, long time.

"I don't understand. Why would you leave all that to just 'live'?"

The way she looked at me was the way anyone who heard my plan would.

Living as Elias Moreno's wife was the dream of nearly every woman in New York. Before we got married, Elias was the most eligible bachelor in the city, rich, ruthless, heartbreakingly beautiful. Women came from all over, hoping to catch his attention. And somehow, he'd chosen me.

On paper, I had everything. The mansion. The staff. The luxury. The child. The man.

But none of it was as easy as we made it seem.

I sighed and started typing.

"It's complicated... but I promise I'll explain one day."

Lucia narrowed her eyes, then shook her head like she was trying to knock the crazy out of it. "I don't know..."

I typed faster.

"Please, Lucia. I promise it's only for a little while."

She stared at me a beat longer, then exhaled so deeply it stirred the paper napkin on the table.

"Fine," she muttered.

I smiled, a quiet sigh of relief leaving my chest.

But I wasn't done.

I lifted the phone again.

"There's one more thing."

Lucia tensed. "What now?"

"You have to pretend you're deaf."

Her response was instant and loud. "Say what now?!"

Heads turned. Conversations paused. Forks froze in midair.

I pressed a finger to my lips, motioning for her to lower her voice.

Lucia hunched over, whisper-shouting now. "I don't understand. Why the hell would I have to be deaf? Shit! Are you—wait—are you deaf?"

I rolled my eyes and typed, slower this time.

"Do I look deaf?"

Lucia stared at me like she was trying to do the math in her head. "Then what are you talking about, Maria?"

I tapped at the screen.

"Elias thinks I'm deaf."

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What?"

I typed harder.

"Keep your voice down, Lucia."

She threw her hands up. "Shit. Sorry. But... what? None of this makes sense."

"I'll explain in due time. But can you do it?"

Lucia slumped back against the booth, suddenly quiet. She looked half-scared, half-intrigued, like someone being dared to do something they weren't sure they'd survive.

Then she leaned forward again, more serious now. "Wait. Before I answer... do I have to be mute too?"

I stared at her. Then typed:

"Can you?"

She blinked. "Oh, hell no," she said flatly, as if that part wasn't even up for discussion.

I didn't reply. I just stared.

Lucia's face shifted. "What's going on, Maria? Be honest. Is someone hurting you? Is that why you have to pretend to be deaf and mute?"

I shook my head quickly, almost frantically.

"No. Elias would never do that."

She raised one perfectly arched brow, clearly not convinced.

I typed again, fast, hard, fierce.

"I'm serious. He's not like that. Elias will never raise his hand on me."

Lucia didn't say anything for a while. She just studied my face, chewing on the inside of her cheek like she didn't trust what she was about to say next.

Then, quietly, "But you can talk, right? The surgery worked?"

I nodded.

She leaned back, hands folded together, eyes still cautious. Finally, she let out a breath and said, "Okay. Fine."

She reached across the table and grabbed the last fry on her plate. "In three days, we reconvene."

My chest loosened all at once. A quiet smile crept onto my lips as I nodded in agreement.

Three days.

In three days, I'd finally be free, if only for a little while.

In three days, I would no longer be Maria, the deaf wife of a billionaire.

I would be Lucia.