The silence in the hallway was louder than the thumping bass of the gala next door.
Alexander's gaze didn't flicker. It moved from the trembling woman with the lopsided wig to the dishevelled sequins.
The resemblance was undeniable, but the difference was stark. One looked like a fallen star; the other looked like a masterpiece hidden in the shadows.
"Alexander, darling!" Selene stumbled toward him, a manic grin on her face.
"You have no idea how much fun I've had watching this little mouse play dress-up. She actually thought she could—"
"Shut up."
Alexander didn't even look at Selene. His eyes were locked on Seraphina, who was standing paralysed, dark hair spilling over her shoulders like an admission of guilt.
"Marcus." Alexander didn't raise his voice, but his loyal assistant appeared from the shadows instantly.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Take this... woman," Alexander flicked a hand toward the real Selene as if she were a piece of trash on his shoe.
"Remove her from the city. Place her in the rehabilitation facility in the North. No phone, no internet, and no contact with the Vance family. If she tries to leave, remind her that I own the debt on her father's life."
"No! You can't do that! I'm the one you engaged!" Selene screamed as Marcus firmly grabbed her arm.
"Sera! Tell him! You're just the replacement!"
Seraphina watched, tears blurring her vision, as her sister was dragged toward the service exit. She wanted to speak, to beg for mercy, but her voice was trapped in her throat.
Then, Alexander turned to her.
He walked forward, each step echoing like a death knell. He reached out, his fingers catching the edge of the blonde wig that was still hanging by a thread.
With one slow, deliberate motion, he ripped it away.
He tossed the expensive hair onto the floor.
"So," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl.
"The botanical sketches. The tea service. The analysis of the abstract sky. It wasn't Selene. It was the 'Invisible Twin.'"
"Alexander, please," Seraphina gasped, her legs giving way. She sank to her knees on the cold tile, the midnight blue silk pooling around her.
"My father... he was desperate. I didn't want to hurt you."
"Didn't want to hurt me?" Alexander laughed, a dry, humourless knelt in front of her, his hand gripping her chin and forcing her to look into his stormy grey eyes.
"You walked into my house, you slept under my roof, and you let me touch you... all while wearing a mask."
"I was going to leave," she sobbed.
"Thirty days. That was the deal."
"The deal is changed."
Alexander's grip tightened. He leaned in so close his cold breath fanned her lips.
"Your sister is gone. As far as the world is concerned, she never came back. You wanted to be her? Fine. You will be Mrs Alexander Thorn. You will wear that ring, you will attend my events, and you will give me the 'stable' image I paid for."
"But you know the truth now," Seraphina whispered.
"How can you look at me?"
"I'll look at you and remember that you belong to me—not as a wife, but as a debt," he hissed.
"You wanted to live in the light, Seraphina? Now you're going to stay in it until it burns you. If you ever try to run, if you ever take off that wig in public again, I will ruin your father before you reach the city limits."
He stood up, pulling her to her feet with a strength that brooked no resistance. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and roughly wiped the red "Selene" lipstick from her mouth until her natural, pale lips were exposed.
"From this moment on, you are mine to command. Do you understand?"
Seraphina looked at the man she had begun to fall for, realising that he had finally frozen over.
The man who had protected her from his mother was gone. In his place was a master.
"Yes," she whispered, her heart breaking.
"Good. Now, fix your face. The auction is starting, and I expect my 'wife' to look perfect."