Chapter 116

ALISHA'S POV.

I hesitated again, lowering my gaze as though I was embarrassed. "I was just wondering..." I trailed off, biting my lip for effect.

"Wondering what?" he prompted, his voice patient.

"If I could come," I said in a rush, my words tumbling over each other.

"To the wedding, I mean. I promise I won't cause any trouble or anything.

I just thought…well, I’d really like to be there. But if you don’t want me to, I understand, and I won’t bring it up again."

Richard stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. My heart pounded in my chest, though not from fear or nerves. This was the critical moment, the point where I’d see if he’d bend to my request.

Finally, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Alisha," he said slowly, "why would you even want to come? It’s not exactly a public event."

I smiled again, this time letting it tremble slightly. "I don’t know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it’s because you’ve been so kind to me, and I just want to be there to support you. I mean, you saved me, Richard. The least I can do is be there for your big day."

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine for something. I kept my expression open, vulnerable, even as my mind screamed for him to say yes.

"Okay," he said at last, his voice calm but firm. "You can come."

A wave of relief washed over me, though I made sure to keep my reaction subtle. I smiled at him, a genuine-looking smile that I hoped conveyed gratitude.

"Thank you," I said softly. "I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll be a good girl, I swear."

Richard chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You’re something else, Alisha."

I joined in his laughter, though mine was softer, more subdued. Inside, however, I was triumphant. I had taken another step forward, secured another piece of the puzzle.

As we continued to eat, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to the wedding. It was the perfect opportunity to observe, to gather information, and to ensure that everything worked in my favor.

But for now, I focused on maintaining the image I had created…the grateful, injured woman who only wanted to show her appreciation. And as Richard laughed again at something I said, I knew I was succeeding.

After dinner, I excused myself and made my way back upstairs, the fake smile on my face fading the moment I turned my back on Richard.

As I entered the female guest room he had given me, I closed the door quietly behind me, leaning against it for a moment as I exhaled deeply.

The relief I felt was short-lived. My mind raced with thoughts of how close I had come to being exposed.

Walking over to the dresser, I sat down and stared at my reflection in the mirror. The hastily applied injuries were barely holding up.

The redness I had managed to recreate earlier with lipstick was already smudging, and the faint lines I’d drawn with eyeliner to mimic cuts were fading.

"Get it together, Alisha," I muttered under my breath. "You’ve come too far to let this fall apart now."

I opened the drawers, searching for anything I could use to salvage the illusion. My hands trembled slightly as I rummaged through the assortment of beauty products.

Finally, I found a deep red lipstick and a black eyeliner pencil. Holding them up, I studied them for a moment, a plan forming in my mind.

“This will have to do,” I whispered, my voice low but determined.

I began with the lipstick, dabbing small amounts onto my fingers and carefully smearing it along the side of my cheek where the supposed "injury" was.

I blended it unevenly, making it look like raw, irritated skin. The color wasn’t perfect, but under dim lighting, it would pass.

As I worked, my thoughts wandered to the events of the day. Meeting Richard had been a stroke of luck, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that my luck could run out at any moment.

I had to be meticulous, calculated. Richard wasn’t a fool, and if he ever suspected me, it would be the end of everything.

I moved on to the eyeliner, using the sharp tip to draw faint lines that mimicked scratches and shallow cuts. I pressed lightly, ensuring the lines looked realistic but not overly dramatic. Stepping back, I examined my handiwork in the mirror.

"Not bad," I murmured, tilting my head to the side. "It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do."

As I stared at my reflection, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease. Pretending to be someone else, creating an entirely false narrative…it was exhausting.

But I reminded myself why I was doing this. Richard was my ticket to a better life, a life I had dreamed of but never thought possible.

I leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting the fake injuries. "You’ve fooled him so far," I said to myself, my voice barely audible. "You just have to keep going. One step at a time."

My thoughts shifted to Nadia. Her incessant calls and demands were beginning to wear on me. I had aligned myself with her out of necessity, but now I was starting to question if I needed her at all.

"She thinks she’s in control," I muttered, smirking at my reflection. "But she has no idea what I’m capable of."

I straightened up, satisfied with my appearance. The fake injuries looked convincing enough to fool Richard, at least for another day. I just had to avoid drawing too much attention to myself and stick to the script.

Just as I was about to turn away from the mirror, I heard my phone buzz on the bedside table. My stomach sank.

"Not again," I groaned, walking over to the phone. Sure enough, Nadia’s name flashed on the screen.

I picked up the phone, hesitating for a moment before answering. "Hello," I said, forcing a neutral tone.

"Alisha," Nadia’s voice was sharp, demanding. "Why didn’t you answer my last call?"