little imposter

**NEW JERSEY CITY**

Samira stood in front of the vast mirror, staring at herself in her wedding dress. The dress was exquisite, a vision of delicate lace and shimmering beads that caught the light with every slight movement. The bodice fit her perfectly, cinching her waist before flowing into a full, billowing skirt. The train trailed behind her like a cascade of snow, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the room. Yet, despite the beauty of the gown, she felt like an imposter. This marriage, this life she was about to step into, felt absurd and unreal, like a twisted fairy tale she couldn't escape.

Ever since her escape a month ago, Chris Rays had caught her in the worst way she'd never thought possible.

**Flashback...**

When Samira reached the airport, she was determined to go back to Brookside. She bought an air ticket and waited for her departure, her heart racing with each passing minute. But as she sat there, her resolve wavered. Doubt gnawed at her, and when she saw Mike wandering through the airport, presumably looking for her, panic set in. She knew she had to leave before he spotted her.

It took her quite a long time to leave the airport, even after she had disguised herself. She thought she had tricked Rays, but she had failed to realize the extent of his connections. Within an hour, he had pinpointed her location.

That's how he caught her. He took her to his house and presented her with three options.

She recalled how he looked at her when he found her at the seashore watching the sunset. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the cold fury in his eyes.

"I thought someone was wiser," he had said, his voice dripping with mockery. His words sent chills down her spine, and she turned to face him, her heart sinking. "I'm hurt. You lied. Your orphanage lied to me.

Those words jolted her into reasoning. The patron at the orphanage didn't know what was going on, and she realized that Ray was likely to cause trouble.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to buy herself some time.

Ray's anger was palpable. "Don't try to play dumb with me. Did you think you could just walk away after revealing your lies?"

"I didn't walk away. I just wanted some time alone," she stubbornly replied, her voice trembling slightly.

"Whatever. You're coming back with me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She had expected to be taken back to the hotel, but Rays took her directly to his mansion. She was surprised by the level of security around his estate; he was determined to make sure she wouldn't escape again.

After spending enough time alone in the room she was allocated, Ray walked in. His presence was intimidating, more so than the last time they had spoken. Without beating around the bush, he laid out his terms.

"You have only three options, little imposter," he said, a cool breeze passing through the room, intensifying the atmosphere. "And you're only going to choose one answer."

Samira looked at him dejectedly, realizing there was no easy way out. "Don't call me that. I'm Samira Wiley," she jabbed back, trying to hold onto some semblance of dignity.

"Says the same woman who introduced herself as Delly a few days ago. I wonder who this Samira is," he retorted, his words cutting deep.

She felt the urge to hit him, to lash out, but she knew she needed to keep her cool. "It seems like Mr. Rays isn't happy about the truth. Don't worry, it would be easy now for you to let me go," she challenged him, hoping to push him to his limits.

Ray's anger was brewing, evident in his eyes. He moved towards her, and she felt the intensity of his presence. She was sitting at the dressing table when he grabbed her jaw tightly. "You don't get to suggest anything. You already lost that chance when you deceived me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He looked at Samira, and she felt like he might do something crazy. His grip tightened, and a tear escaped her eye, falling onto his palm. Realizing he had hurt her, he let go, a flicker of regret crossing his face.

"You have three options: one, you have one month to find Delly. Two, spend twelve days satisfying me in bed. Three, get married to me immediately."

Samira didn’t know why, but the feeling was undeniable—like the ground beneath her was crumbling, and her world was about to collapse. She had left her simple, peaceful life in Brookside just a few days ago, and in that short span, everything had changed. Now, standing in a lavish room far removed from the cozy comfort of the boutique she used to work in, she felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her like a suffocating shroud.

The choices she had were few, and none of them offered a path that didn’t lead to pain. The second option—to satisfy Ray in his bed for twelve days—was something she couldn’t bring herself to do, not even to save herself from misery. The very thought of it made her stomach churn. Instead, she had chosen the third option: marriage. A union to Rays, the powerful and enigmatic man who had loomed over her life like a shadow since she had agreed to impersonate her friend Delly. Samira had negotiated for one month before the wedding, hoping it would give her time to find Delly and get out of this nightmare. But now, as she stared into the ornate mirror in her room, she realized it was all for naught. Delly had failed her.

The reflection that stared back at her was not the Samira she knew. Her face was carefully painted with makeup, her hair elegantly styled, but beneath it all, her eyes were hollow. The silk of the wedding gown clung to her body, heavy and oppressive. The delicate lace that adorned her neckline felt like a noose tightening with every passing second.

The door creaked open behind her, and Miss Mary, the patron of the orphanage where Samira had spent her childhood, entered the room. Her presence filled the space with an air of authority, as it always did, but there was something different about her today. She seemed almost... enthusiastic.

“You look beautiful,” Miss Mary said, her voice laced with an unsettling excitement. She walked over to Samira, placing her hands firmly on her shoulders. The grip was meant to be comforting, but it felt like iron shackles to Samira.

“Make sure you get married to Chris Rays. Save us from trouble, dear,” Miss Mary added, her tone leaving no room for argument. Samira could only nod, her throat too tight with emotion to speak. Everything was at stake—the orphanage, Delly, her own future. And yet, all of this had started because she had wanted to help her friend, to keep Delly from a fate she believed to be worse than her own. Now, it seemed, the orphanage was just another reason for her to push through with this wedding, a justification that felt more hollow with each passing minute.

Miss Mary patted her shoulder lightly before turning to leave. “I will leave you to continue. After all, today is your wedding.” There was a cold in her smile, a chill that sent shivers down Samira’s spine.

As the door closed behind Miss Mary, Samira’s mind whirled with confusion and dread. Why would her patron, someone she had trusted for so long, insist on her getting married to Chris Rays in Delly’s place? The question gnawed at her, a relentless itch she couldn’t scratch.

Samira recalled a conversation she had with Delly not too long ago, asking if she had ever done something wrong to Miss Mary without realizing it. Delly had assured her everything was fine, that their patron had never complained about her. But now, seeing the way Miss Mary treated her like a stranger, Samira knew something was terribly wrong.

The room suddenly felt too small, too stifling. The walls seemed to close in on her, and the air grew thick. Panic rose in her chest, tightening like a vise around her heart. She had to find Miss Mary, to confront her about the cryptic words and the strange behavior. There had to be an explanation.

Determined, Samira gathered the heavy folds of her dress and hurried out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the grand hallway. She descended the staircase with as much grace as she could muster, careful not to trip over the gown. When she reached the bottom, she saw Miss Mary slipping into Ray's study room. Samira hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Then, steeling herself, she approached the door. She was about to knock when she heard the murmur of voices inside.

“Did you find out?” Miss Mary’s voice was sharp, filled with a tension that made Samira freeze in place.

“I’ve been trying to locate your daughter, but it keeps bouncing,” a man replied. His back was to the door, and Samira couldn’t tell who he was. The words hit her like a freight train, leaving her stunned.

Daughter? Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of conversations and half-forgotten memories. Delly... Could it be? The realization hit her with the force of a sledgehammer. Delly was Miss Mary’s daughter.

Samira’s breath caught in her throat as tears welled up in her eyes. Delly, her best friend, the one who had shared her dreams and secrets, who had always prayed that Samira would find her mother one day. The countless nights they spent whispering about the mothers they had imagined in their minds—it had all been a cruel joke. Has Delly known all along? Was she laughing behind her back at her naivety?

“So, do you want us to let Samira marry Chris Ray?” the man’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Why not?” Miss Mary replied, her tone cold and calculated. “After all, she came here in place of Delly, my real child.” The words were laced with a venom that made Samira’s blood run cold.

“Then don’t you feel any remorse about everything that is going on?” the man asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“It’s better for Chris Ray to marry Samira rather than my beloved daughter. I’m glad Delly sent her here to pretend to be her. I never wanted my daughter to marry Mr. Rays, and I’m relieved she isn’t the one doing it today,” Miss Mary said, her voice devoid of any warmth or compassion.

Samira could take no more. The betrayal, the lies, the manipulation—it all came crashing down on her. She pushed the door open and stepped into the room, her face a mask of shock and hurt. The two people she had considered her closest allies turned to her, their expressions a mix of surprise and guilt.

“Samira...” Miss Mary started, but Samira cut her off, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Why? Why would you do this to me? All this time, I trusted you, believed in you. And you...” Her voice broke, the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. “You’ve been using me, lying to me. For what? To protect Delly? To protect your daughter?”

Miss Mary’s eyes narrowed, the brief flicker of guilt replaced by a steely resolve. “You don’t understand, Samira. I did what was necessary. Delly is my daughter. I will protect her at all costs.”

“And what about me?” Samira demanded, her voice rising. “What about everything you promised me? Everything you made me believe? Was it all just a lie?”

The man, whom Samira now recognized as one of Miss Mary’s associates, shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to be anywhere but there.

Miss Mary’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Samira, life is about survival. Sometimes, you have to make difficult choices. I’m sorry you got caught up in this, but it’s for the best.”

Samira shook her head, unable to comprehend the coldness in Miss Mary’s words. The woman who had been like a mother to her, who had guided her through her darkest days, was now a stranger, someone who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in her twisted game.

Without another word, Samira turned and fled the room, her vision blurred by tears. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get away, far away from the people who had betrayed her so deeply.

As she ran through the corridors, the wedding dress trailed behind her like a ghost, a haunting reminder of the life she had been forced into. The life she no longer wanted.

In the distance, the sound of the wedding march began to play, signaling the start of the ceremony. But Samira knew she couldn’t go through with it, not now, not ever. She had to find Delly, to uncover the truth, to reclaim the life that had been stolen from her.