Chapter 5: Who is she?

Today, Simona Smith, a 25-year-old secretary at Ann’s Fashion Empire who lived on the third door on the left on the tenth floor of her rented apartment, was home and didn't report to work due to a severe cold and sore throat. 

She was seated on her couch, clad in a duvet, hugging her knees while watching TV. Reaching for the hot ginger tea she has been sipping, she realized it had gone cold. She stood up to get another cup when her doorbell rang.

“Who could it be?” She muttered to herself, putting the mug she was holding on the kitchen counter, and went to get the door. Simona opened the door and came face-to-face with the most handsome man she had ever seen. 

“Hi, please, I'm looking for Miss Simona Smith,” Michael said, in his professional tone as he took in the appearance of the beautiful woman with a red nose standing in front of him blushing. He realized she must be having a cold with her red nose. But her blushing—was it for him? Simona, who was blushing fiercely, tucked her hair behind her ear and said,

“I'm her; how may I help you?” At her words, Michael's gaze lingered on the pretty face in front of him that didn't look anything like the Simona he was looking for and asked,

“Are there two Simona Smiths living on this floor? Maybe I'm at the wrong door.” Simona shook her head and said,

“I'm the only one.”

“Then do you mind explaining why your name and address are here in this folder but your picture is different?” Michael asked, and Simona gasped.

“Sorry, but my name is not Simona. I'm bored and was just trying to have a conversation with a handsome man; there was a Simona who used to live here but she moved out; she was my roommate.” Simona said with a toothy smile. 

“Really?” Michael asked, his voice laced with doubt; however, before Simona could say another word, Adrian, who was standing behind the door, stepped forward and asked in a flat voice, 

“Show me your ID,” just as Simona sneezed.

"Achoo!!"

"Bless you..." Michael was saying but stopped and pulled out wet wipes, handing them to his boss, who was about to explode.

Simona's breath caught in her throat as she found herself face-to-face with the imposing figure of Adrian Adams of Adams Corp., his striking presence commanding the space. He had a deep frown etched across his chiseled features, giving him an air of danger, yet there was an undeniable attraction to his stormy appearance, even when anger flickered in his dark eyes.

He was an outstanding figure, radiating a magnetic power that could only be compared to that of a devil. It was no wonder he had earned such a notorious reputation. Without wasting time, Simona took a few steps back as she hurriedly tried to close the door, but Michael quickly stepped forward, stopping her with his feet between the door gap.

“Start talking!” Adrian growled, losing his calm at the thought of what he realized was happening.

“She gave me money—a lot of money I couldn't refuse, so I gave my resume to her, and she replaced my picture with hers,” Simona explained.

“So if you are Simona, fuck!” Adrian cursed, unable to complete his question. “So if you are Simona, who is she?” he asked in a menacing voice.

“I don't know; I didn't care to ask her.” Without uttering another word, Adrian turned and stormed away angrily. 

Michael looked at Simona for a brief second, something flashing in his eyes as he took in her appearance once last time before turning around and following his boss. 

Simona watched as Michael's figure disappeared in the distance before she closed the door. She rushed to the sofa and sat down, reaching for her phone, and dialed a number.

 

~~~

 

It had been three hours since Diana went to get Anastasia from the hotel, but she was still sound asleep. Her phone on the nightstand began to ring and ended; on the second call, she stretched her hand and took the phone to her ear after answering.

“Good morning, madam,”

“Simona?” Anastasia muttered, her eyebrows raised in confusion, “Why are you calling? I thought you had the day off since you're not feeling well.”

“Yes, madam, but I called you to inform you your husband was here a few minutes ago, and I told him everything as you instructed me to.”

“Did he believe you?” Anastasia asked with a yawn.

“Yes, he did,” Simona explained.

“Okay, thank you. Take care of your health; don't report to work tomorrow if you are still not well.”

“Thank you, madam, have a nice day,” Simona said, and Anastasia ended the call.

Anastasia sighed, clutching the phone to her chest. She had thought of Adrian looking for her; that is why, after calling Diana to come get her back at the hotel, she called Simona and asked her to say something to Adrian in case he came looking for her.

“Oh Adrian, it was fun while it lasted; I don't regret loving you and giving you my first. But I hope we never cross paths again. I'm Anastasia Moore now. Simona never existed,” Anastasia said and got out of bed still feeling sore. She made her way to the bathroom to soak up and start her day. It's time her employees meet her.

 

~~~

 

Three hours later at Ann’s fashion empire, Patrick, assistant manager of Anastasia Moore, stood at the entrance of the fastest-growing company in the past 5 years as he awaited the arrival of their CEO. After 4 years, she was finally showing her face. And Patrick, who had worked with her for a year before her sudden disappearance 4 years ago, was waiting for her to arrive so he could introduce her to the employees.

 

~~

A sleek, pristine white BMW i7 glided to a stop in front of the grand skyscraper that housed Ann’s fashion empire, its glass exterior glimmering in the sunlight. Patrick, with a polite demeanor, stepped forward and opened the door for Anastasia, who elegantly stepped out, exuding grace and poise in a tailored three-piece white suit that accented her figure flawlessly. The trousers hugged her hips and legs, drawing attention to their elegant length, while her black stiletto—shimmering like polished glass—and a stylish black handbag dangled from her arm added an extra touch of sophistication, perfectly complementing her attire. With light makeup, a rosy maroon lipstick, and cat-eye sunglasses, giving her an air of refinement. 

Anastasia smiled while holding Patrick's gaze and turned glancing up, admiring the grandeur of her company’s building before inhaling deeply. “It feels good to be back,” she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

Patrick nodded in agreement, a smile playing on his lips as he said, "Indeed." Then he gestured toward the entrance and added, “After you, madam.” However, just as Anastasia took her first step toward the building, the noise of a van pulling to a screeching stop behind them drew their attention.