Chapter 2 New revelations

CHAPTER TWO

Winston pulled up in front of a mansion that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a historical drama. Ivy curled around the stone walls, and golden light glowed behind towering arched windows. The silence outside was unnerving, thick like the calm before a storm.

He stepped out of the car first, moving with his usual cool, unreadable air. A second later, he rounded the car and opened my door.

I hesitated.

Everything about this felt... too dangerous, it was all happening too fast.

Still, I slid out, my heels clicking softly against the cobbled driveway. My eyes flicked up to the house, trying to guess what waited inside.

My gaze swept the place. Where am I?

Winston led the way up the stairs, stopping in front of a heavy oak door. He knocked once, firm and sure.

Almost immediately, it opened.

A woman in her early thirties stood in the doorway. She was beautiful in a sharp way-short, flame-red hair tucked behind her ears, bold eyeliner, and a cream silk blouse that looked like it cost more than my monthly rent. But when her eyes landed on me, something shifted. Her whole expression softened in shock, like she was seeing a ghost.

"Wow... you look exactly like-"

Winston cleared his throat.

Loud.

Intentional.

She blinked, startled, and turned to him with a frown.

"She doesn't know, Sutton," he said, his voice low.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh..." she said quickly, stepping aside. "Sorry. Come in."

I stepped through the doorway, my heart thudding harder than I liked. The house was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt staged. The entryway was wide, elegant in an old-fashioned way-white marble floors, gold-trimmed portraits, and a sweeping staircase that curved like something out of a fairytale.

I glanced around, suddenly very aware of how out of place I looked, still clutching the cardboard box like it was my shield.

Sutton was just about to say something, but I looked like someone. But who? Has she perhaps met my mother? My birth mother.

"Follow me," Sutton said, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

She didn't wait for me to answer. Just turned and walked upstairs.

I followed, my fingers tightening around the box, nerves buzzing under my skin. Upstairs, she led me down a hallway that smelled faintly of lavender and polish. We stopped in front of a large double door.

Inside was a bedroom. Not just any bedroom-a rich, cold sort of room. The walls were a soft dove gray. A king-sized bed sat perfectly made in the center, the headboard tufted in deep blue velvet. Everything was clean. Immaculate. Like, no one lived here.

Sutton turned to face me, nodding toward the walk-in closet. "Change into that."

I nodded stiffly, stepping into the closet and quietly shutting the door behind me. The closet was massive-mirrored walls, rows of dresses, organized shoes, and soft lighting that made my skin look too perfect. I took a breath and opened the box.

Inside was a royal blue dress. Silk. Elegant. Expensive.

I pulled it on carefully, smoothing it down. The slit ran high up my thigh, the neckline dipped in a way that made me feel seen. A matching sapphire necklace lay at the bottom of the box. I fastened it around my neck with slightly shaky fingers.

When I stepped out, Sutton was standing by the mirror. She turned when she heard me, and for the second time, she froze.

Her breath caught. "You look just like her." Her eyes were filled with warmth as she spoke.

My brow furrowed. "Who?"

She blinked and straightened almost instantly. "No one."

The lie was too quick. Too clean. She was hiding something.

She moved toward the mirror and pulled out the chair. "Sit. I'll do your makeup."

I sat, though part of me wanted to walk right back out of the room and demand answers. But I didn't. I watched her instead-watched the way her hands trembled just once before steadying, how she avoided my eyes.

Something was off.

And I was done pretending not to notice.

Who did I look like? Why was I picked for this job?

There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

And the worst part?

I had a feeling I was walking straight into something I couldn't walk out of.

After a few minutes, she finished with the makeup. I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back. Was this really how people showed up to mafia summits?

Sutton reached for a box in front of me and pulled it open. She lifted out a long blonde wig.

My heart tightened. "I don't need a wig," I said softly, running my fingers through my own hair. "My hair is already long."

Sutton's stern expression softened into a warm smile. "This isn't about your hair, Katherine. You're going in as someone else now - a new identity, a new name: Caroline Fisher. Everything about her has to be different from you. You have brown hair, so you'll wear blonde. With the makeup and wig, no one will give you a second look - even the men."

She carefully placed the wig on my head. The blonde strands were longer than my natural hair, which was already pretty long with bangs. She was right-I barely recognized myself.

"I'll let Winston know you're ready," Sutton said, turning to leave.

---

**An hour later**

I sat in the backseat of the car, lost in thought when it suddenly pulled up in front of a boutique.

"Get down," Winston's voice came through the earpiece.

I hesitated, staring out the window in disbelief. "Wait... the mafia summit is here? In a boutique?"

"Step down, Katherine," the voice ordered again.

My body jerked in response, still not used to hearing his voice so close, in my ear.

"This is a boutique," I muttered under my breath.

"Get out of the car. Now," the voice repeated firmly.

I slowly slid the door open and stepped out. The car sped off immediately, leaving me standing alone in the quiet night.

I pushed the boutique door open, the soft creak loud in the silence. I closed it behind me carefully.

My eyes locked on the mirror across the room, and my hand tightened into a fist. The woman staring back looked like a stranger.

"You look... different," a voice said behind me. "Beautiful, in that blue dress."

My heart jumped, fear rising. Was he here?

"Looking for me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Where are you?" I added, eyes darting around the room.

"Everywhere," he said smoothly. "But right now... your chest."

My brow furrowed in confusion.

"There's a tiny camera in your necklace," he explained. "It lets me see everything you see through that mirror."

I instinctively reached for the necklace, an uneasy chill creeping down my spine.

"There's an elevator three floors up. Go inside," the voice instructed.

I scanned the room until I spotted it-an elevator with an Out of Order sign scrawled across the doors.

"But it's out of order," I said, voice trembling.

"Trust me," he said.

I took a deep breath and walked toward it. It was strange to trust a man who held my mother's life hostage.

"Press the last button," he said as I stepped into the elevator.

There were three buttons inside the elevator-two green and one red. Without thinking much, I pressed the red one, the last button.

The elevator began to move upward, smooth but deliberate.

The voice crackled in my ear again.

"Your next task-reach beneath the panel and push the hidden button."

I frowned in confusion but slowly slid my hand beneath the control panel. My fingers found a small, almost invisible button. I hesitated, then pressed it.

"What... what does this do?" I asked, my eyes wide with curiosity.

My voice sounded different-thicker, rougher, almost raspy.

"That's your new voice," the voice explained calmly. "A new identity for the summit means a new voice too."

I gasped, completely stunned. The mafia really had gadgets like this? "How...?" I breathed out, still trying to process it.

"The necklace picks up your vocal cords," the voice explained softly. "Just don't take it off, no matter what."

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open, and I blinked against the harsh red light flooding the room. It was like stepping inside a fire - the walls glowed deep crimson, casting long shadows across the crowd. The air felt heavy, thick with danger, and something cold.

My legs shook as I took a step forward. This was an underground mafia summit, and I was the impostor in their midst.

Hundreds of people filled the space, any one of them capable of ending me in an instant.

"What do I do?" I asked, my voice sounding strange like it belonged to someone else. I felt like an undercover spy - and in a way, I was.

"Find the mafia boss, Dante," the voice whispered through the earpiece.

"How?" I swallowed hard, my eyes scanning the sea of faces.

"To your left," came the answer. Grey suit. Dark hair."

I turned and immediately spotted him.

"What am I supposed to steal?" I asked, hoping to get this over with fast.

"An important key," the voice said. "But first... You have to seduce him. Ask him to dance."

My heart hammered as I looked at Dante - cold, untouchable. He was in his late thirties, with a bold tattoo curling around his hand.

I took a shaky breath and pushed my feet forward.

Then, a familiar voice sliced through the air. "Dante."

I froze. That voice - Elena.

My eyes snapped to her. Why was she here? Alaric's secretary at a mafia summit? Was she... involved?

Her eyes met mine, and I prayed my disguise was enough.

And then, she waved at me.

Panic slammed into me. I turned to run - and crashed straight into something hard.

I looked up. Alaric.

My heart pounded. Elena had just waved at me, but Alaric-

"Boss!" A man in a black suit came rushing over, his voice urgent. "You need to see this."

Alaric sighed, ready to move - but th