Celeste POV
Pain was my second name.
It clawed through me in relentless waves, sharp, unyielding, stealing my breath like it was going to be my last, leaving me trembling. My fingers dig into the armrest of the chair, knuckles white from the force of the grip. I bit down on my lip, trying to suppress the cry that threatened to escape. The last thing I needed was for anyone to know of my condition.
Not now. Not yet.
The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn shut to keep the early morning sun out. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I struggled to steady my breath. My body is betraying me, just as always, but this time I refused to succumb. I cannot afford to be weak, not when I’m getting close to my plan.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the darkness offers no solace. Instead, it dragged me back to the past, to the moment that changed everything. The reason I’m here.
Six years ago******
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fading hope. The beeping machines had long fallen quiet, their purpose now rendered meaningless. And there, on the sterile white bed, lay Clara, my sister. My heart, my blood, my everything, my only family.
Lifeless.
Her dark hair fanned out against the pillow, her once-warm brown eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Her lips, lips that had whispered secrets to me in the dead of night, were now frozen in silence.
She was gone.
And in her arms, cradled with the last remnants of her strength, was Ethan. A newborn. Small. Helpless. The only piece of her left in this world.
I had reached for her then, my hands trembling, my voice shaky as I whispered her name. Begging. Pleading. But there was no answer. No last words. No chance to say goodbye.
That moment shattered me.
It burned into my soul like an unquenchable fire, searing every piece of me until there was nothing left but rage and grief.
The Bolognas took her from me.
And now, they would pay immensely.
I never got the chance to bond with Clara and when I finally reunited with her, I was left with her dead body.
Present Day*****
A sharp knock at the door brought me back to the present. I inhaled deeply, wiping the sweat from my forehead before forcing my body to stand. The pain lingers, a dull throbbing under my skin, but I ignored it not wanting to leave any hint of suspicion.
I moved toward the door, opening it just a fraction.
A maid stands outside, her eyes lowered. “Madam, the lady of the house requests your presence in the study.”
Angela.
A slow smile tugs at my lips. My body may be weak, but my mind is sharper than ever.
I nod, dismissing the maid before stepping back inside to compose myself. A glance at the mirror reveals my pale complexion, but I push past it as I applied a little bit of makeup to brighten my face. I will not let Angela see even a sliver of vulnerability.
By the time I reached the study, I was composed, my expression unreadable. The heavy oak door creaks as I step inside, the scent of aged wood and expensive cigars filling my senses.
Angela stands near the fireplace, her back to me. Even in her silk robe, she carries an air of authority, as if the entire world should bow at her feet.
She turns slowly, a wine glass in hand, her crimson lips curved into something resembling amusement.
“Celeste.”
My blood runs cold.
Not Clara. She didn’t call me Clara.
Celeste.
She knows.
I mask my shock with a smirk, tilting my head as I step forward as I acted like I didn’t hear what she said, “You called for me, Angela?”
She takes a measured sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving mine. “I did.” She swirls the glass, watching the deep red liquid spin like blood. “Tell me, how long did you think you could fool me?”
I hold her stare, my heart pounding. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, but there’s no humor in it. She sets the glass down, stepping closer until we are inches apart.
“Oh, darling,” she whispers, her voice laced with mock sympathy. “Did you really think I was blind or maybe stupid? That I wouldn’t recognize you?” She lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “I knew from the moment you stepped into this house that you were not Clara.”
The air between us thickens, the tension crackling like a live wire.
I force a laugh, feigning innocence. “If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”
Angela’s smile turns sharp, predatory. “Because, my dear, it was far more entertaining to watch you play your little game.” She leans in, her voice dropping. “But you should know something.” Her fingers trail lightly along the armrest of a nearby chair, her eyes gleaming with something dark.
“You are not the only one playing.”
My breath hitches.
Angela straightens, brushing invisible dust from her robe. “Tell me, Celeste, have you ever wondered why your sister truly died?”
A chill runs down my spine.
I swallow hard. “She was murdered.”
Angela hums, tilting her head. “Yes. But do you know who gave the order?”
The room suddenly feels suffocating. My heart pounds against my ribs as I struggle to maintain my composure.
She steps closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You’re looking in the wrong direction, dear.” Her eyes gleam with something triumphant. “Your real enemy isn’t just my family.”
Something in her tone sends an icy wave through me.
I grit my teeth. “What do you mean?”
Angela smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough but for now it’s fun watching you play your stupid games.”
My fingers curl into fists. Every instinct in me screams to demand answers, to force her to tell me everything.
But I won’t give her that satisfaction.
Instead, I meet her gaze with unwavering determination. “If you think you can scare me, you’re mistaken. Since you already know, I’m Celeste not Clara so petty taunts won’t scare me one bit.”
Angela simply chuckles, reaching for her wine glass again. “Oh, Celeste,” she murmurs, taking a slow sip. “I’m not trying to scare you.” She tilts her head. “I’m merely giving you a warning.”
She turns her back to me, dismissing me without another word.
But I didn’t move.
My mind races, piecing together her cryptic words.
You’re looking in the wrong direction.
Your real enemy isn’t just my family.
A terrifying thought slams into me.
What if the betrayal runs deeper than I ever imagined?
What if someone I trust—someone I love—was the one who handed Clara over to her fate?
My hands trembled as I recalled the last cryptic message I read.
Another thought echoed in my head, “Or could this be part of Angela’s plan to get me distracted?”
Few minutes later, I got another message but this time it was a photo. When I clicked the picture, I was stunned at what I saw.
It was a picture of Angela kissing a man in the room but I couldn’t see the face of the man due to the angle of how the picture was taken.
But one thing was certain, Angela was having a secret affair and I had the evidence in my hand waiting for the right time to act.
Alexander POVThe morning light spills into the grand estate, filtering through the floor to ceiling window as I sit in my study holding my cup of coffee. My gaze shifted to Ethan seated on the floor near the fireplace, a puzzle spread out before him.His eyes, lips, all screamed he was mine. I should never have doubted he was mine in the first place. From the sharp gut of his jaw to the quiet intensity in his eyes, he is truly a Bologna. And yet for the longest time, I refused to admit he was mine.It wasn’t just because of Clara.It was because I wasn’t ready to be a father.And now, I’m still confused but one thing is certain I have to give it a try.Ethan glances up, catching me staring, and a small smile tugs at his lips before he quickly looks back down, concentrating on his puzzle. A warmth spreads through my chest, unexpected and foreign.Clara did this. She raised him, shaped him. Despite everything, she gave him a childhood free from the poison of this world.I also couldn’t
Celeste POVThe door shut with a gentle sound, but the click felt deafening in my ears. My heart was still beating fast, echoing the fire left behind on my lips. Alexander’s kiss stole something from me, something I thought I’d buried with Clara.I stood stuck in a spot, leaning the edge of the mahogany bookshelf for support. My legs weren’t shaking, no, they shouldn't be. I can’t allow it. Not here. Not when I’d come this far. Not after six years of well constructed plans.But the truth lingered in my chest.He kissed me.And I had kissed him back.It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I had come here for revenge, not this. Not stolen heat beneath bitter silence. Not the thrill of being seen, not the ache of being touched.I closed my eyes tightly and breathed deep, willing the tremor out of my bones. Alexander still thought I was Clara, his once meek housemaid turned resentful ghost. And I needed it to stay that way, at least for now. He couldn’t know the truth. If he did, everyt
Celeste POVThere was a huge silence at the Bologna estate.The air inside the grand study was filled with tension suffocating the entire room. The only sound was the faint sound of the clock on the well structured wall and the sounds of heartbeats echoing through the room while we awaited the result.Alexander Bologna stood tall, his gray eyes locked intensely on the doctor, jaw and fist clenched tight. His entire body froze, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.To the right stood Angela Bologna with her perfectly manicured fingers, pacing the room with an unreadable expression while throwing hateful side eyes at me. Then there was also Marcus, seated calmly, observant, his fingers interlocked in his lap as if he had already accepted the inevitable truth while others refused to do so.I shifted slightly, gripping Ethan’s small hand in mine as I pulled him closer. He looked up at me, bright gray eyes filled with curiosity, completely unaware of the storm about to break.The
Celeste POVIt’s been a week since I became the wife of Alexander Bologna.Seven days of carefully orchestrated steps. Seven days of calculated silence. Seven days of planting the seeds of my revenge.And yet, I hadn’t anticipated the gnawing guilt creeping in whenever I looked at Ethan. He didn’t deserve any of this.He was too young and adjusting far too quickly to this world—a world of polished marble floors, endless hallways, and silent but ever-watchful staff. Despite Angela’s obvious hatred, my son remains blissfully unaware of the tension brewing around him.But Alexander—he isn’t so blind.He watches me with quiet suspicion, studying my every move as if trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t know existed. And I, in turn, pretend not to notice while playing my game too.But tonight, I let my mask slip for just a moment.It was late when I left Ethan’s room after watching him fall asleep and tucking him in. I walked down the quiet hall, my silk nightgown clings to my body as I made
Celeste POVThe door shut with a gentle sound, but the click felt deafening in my ears. My heart was still beating fast, echoing the fire left behind on my lips. Alexander’s kiss stole something from me, something I thought I’d buried with Clara.I stood stuck in a spot, leaning the edge of the mahogany bookshelf for support. My legs weren’t shaking, no, they shouldn't be. I can’t allow it. Not here. Not when I’d come this far. Not after six years of well constructed plans.But the truth lingered in my chest.He kissed me.And I had kissed him back.It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I had come here for revenge, not this. Not stolen heat beneath bitter silence. Not the thrill of being seen, not the ache of being touched.I closed my eyes tightly and breathed deep, willing the tremor out of my bones. Alexander still thought I was Clara, his once meek housemaid turned resentful ghost. And I needed it to stay that way, at least for now. He couldn’t know the truth. If he did, everyt
Alexander POVThe morning light spills into the grand estate, filtering through the floor to ceiling window as I sit in my study holding my cup of coffee. My gaze shifted to Ethan seated on the floor near the fireplace, a puzzle spread out before him.His eyes, lips, all screamed he was mine. I should never have doubted he was mine in the first place. From the sharp gut of his jaw to the quiet intensity in his eyes, he is truly a Bologna. And yet for the longest time, I refused to admit he was mine.It wasn’t just because of Clara.It was because I wasn’t ready to be a father.And now, I’m still confused but one thing is certain I have to give it a try.Ethan glances up, catching me staring, and a small smile tugs at his lips before he quickly looks back down, concentrating on his puzzle. A warmth spreads through my chest, unexpected and foreign.Clara did this. She raised him, shaped him. Despite everything, she gave him a childhood free from the poison of this world.I also couldn’t
Celeste POVPain was my second name.It clawed through me in relentless waves, sharp, unyielding, stealing my breath like it was going to be my last, leaving me trembling. My fingers dig into the armrest of the chair, knuckles white from the force of the grip. I bit down on my lip, trying to suppress the cry that threatened to escape. The last thing I needed was for anyone to know of my condition.Not now. Not yet.The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn shut to keep the early morning sun out. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I struggled to steady my breath. My body is betraying me, just as always, but this time I refused to succumb. I cannot afford to be weak, not when I’m getting close to my plan.I squeezed my eyes shut, but the darkness offers no solace. Instead, it dragged me back to the past, to the moment that changed everything. The reason I’m here.Six years ago******The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fading hope. The beeping machines had long fa
Celeste POVIt’s been a week since I became the wife of Alexander Bologna.Seven days of carefully orchestrated steps. Seven days of calculated silence. Seven days of planting the seeds of my revenge.And yet, I hadn’t anticipated the gnawing guilt creeping in whenever I looked at Ethan. He didn’t deserve any of this.He was too young and adjusting far too quickly to this world—a world of polished marble floors, endless hallways, and silent but ever-watchful staff. Despite Angela’s obvious hatred, my son remains blissfully unaware of the tension brewing around him.But Alexander—he isn’t so blind.He watches me with quiet suspicion, studying my every move as if trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t know existed. And I, in turn, pretend not to notice while playing my game too.But tonight, I let my mask slip for just a moment.It was late when I left Ethan’s room after watching him fall asleep and tucking him in. I walked down the quiet hall, my silk nightgown clings to my body as I made
Celeste POVThere was a huge silence at the Bologna estate.The air inside the grand study was filled with tension suffocating the entire room. The only sound was the faint sound of the clock on the well structured wall and the sounds of heartbeats echoing through the room while we awaited the result.Alexander Bologna stood tall, his gray eyes locked intensely on the doctor, jaw and fist clenched tight. His entire body froze, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.To the right stood Angela Bologna with her perfectly manicured fingers, pacing the room with an unreadable expression while throwing hateful side eyes at me. Then there was also Marcus, seated calmly, observant, his fingers interlocked in his lap as if he had already accepted the inevitable truth while others refused to do so.I shifted slightly, gripping Ethan’s small hand in mine as I pulled him closer. He looked up at me, bright gray eyes filled with curiosity, completely unaware of the storm about to break.The