Chapter Three: The Lace in lies
1188 Words
RAVEN POV
I tasted blood. I pushed myself up from the floor. That brute had thrown me hard. My body screamed in protest, every muscle aching. Dragging myself back to the bed took all my strength; my breath came in ragged pants, and my arms shook.
But giving up wasn't an option.
I wouldn't die here, not in this stranger's life.
Just as I gripped the bed frame, the door swung open. Elna, my nurse, hurried in. She was soft-spoken and always dressed in a neat gray uniform. Her hands trembled as she helped me sit up, despite her calm demeanor.
“Are you alright?” She asked, breathless with worry.
I couldn't answer.
Inside, I was screaming. Why, Moon Goddess? Why this? Why bring me back like this? Reincarnated into the body of a broken woman, some royal stranger drowning in trauma. I hadn’t asked for any of this! Rachel was my name. Wife. Mother. I died unloved, sure, but I died as myself.
Now? I was a puppet, a Luna trapped in someone else's fancy life and forced to be my stepbrother’s Luna.
I swallowed the scream and leaned back against the pillows as Elna arranged them.
But I couldn't stay in the room.
I needed to see the world outside. I needed proof that this wasn't some crazy nightmare. I needed to feel alive, even if it meant walking in someone else's shoes.
“I want to see outside,” I croaked, my voice shaky.
Elna stood straight. “You need to rest…”
“I said I want to see it.” I insisted.
“But I have orders…” She responded under her breath.
“I don't give a damn about orders.” I turned and looked her in the eyes. “I'm Raven now, right? So I'm ordering you. Show me.”
Elna hesitated, sighed softly, then moved to open the big double doors that led to the hall.
The moment I stepped out, everything changed.
The hallway was unreal. Huge and elegant, with polished black marble floors that gleamed slick beneath the light. Tall windows let in streaks of sunlight, casting a soft glow over everything. Portraits hung on the walls – oil paintings of a younger Raven, surrounded by models, celebrities, and important people. The air smelled great, of vanilla, musk, and lilac – soft smells for a tough lady.
She lived like this? My heart pounded. How could anyone be surrounded by so much wealth but still feel so sad inside?
We walked slowly, my balance shot, with Elna holding my arm. At the end of the hall, a glassy building caught my eye. Like a gallery.
“What's that?” I asked, pointing.
Elna blinked, surprised. “That's... your studio.”
“My studio?”
“Your fashion house. The House of Craslow. Your whole life.”
I stared, speechless. She was a designer? Not just a designer. It looked like she was a fashion superstar.
How could she have all this and still be so miserable? I wondered, staring at the glass.
Right then, a tall woman with a red leather blazer strutted like she owned the joint. Her hair was pulled back tight, and her heels clicked hard on the marble floor.
She was coming our way.
She slammed into me.
I stumbled, grabbing Elna.
“Watch it,” I muttered, confused.
“Maya!” Elna hissed. “Have some respect. Luna is recovering…”
“Respect?” The woman laughed. “When do lunatics get respect?”
My blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”
Maya leaned in, crossing her arms. “Are you going to play dumb? You don't remember your own cousin? Your Beta?”
“Beta?”
“The Beta to the Alpha you murdered,” She said with hate. “But you know that already, don’t you, Raven?”
Her words hit hard. Murdered?
“I didn't kill anyone,” I blurted out, my heart racing.
She laughed. “Oh, now you've lost your memory, too? How useful. Everyone knows what you did. You poisoned your husband to get with your stepbrother. What was it? Two weeks before your legs were open again? How disgusting!”
Elna stepped between us. “Maya, that's enough.”
Maya kept going.
“You're gross,” She spat. “You'll never be our Luna. Just a fame-hungry user in fancy clothes.”
She gave me one last look, then turned and walked off.
I stood there, shocked.
Who was Raven Craslow?
***
I didn’t say a word until we got to the studio.
It was unbelievable. From the floor to the ceiling, windows covered the main room, filling it with light. Fancy mannequins stood on marble bases, wearing amazing gowns. Lace, silk, gems, all of it shone.
Hundreds of Ravens Awards were displayed on the beautiful mahogany shelf.
The place was full of people. Dozens, maybe more.
When I walked in, everyone was quiet.
Then they started clapping.
“She's back.”
“The Icon returns.”
“Raven…”
I tried to smile, but it didn't feel real on my face.
The crowd moved aside as a man in a velvet blazer walked up, his smile too smooth, his walk too sure.
He looked like a model, but he had a leather hat and shades. So I couldn't make out what he looked like exactly. But he was the kind of manly figure that was on magazine covers.
“My love,” he said, smiling at me. I saw too many teeth. “You look… great.”
I blinked. “What—?”
Before I could finish, he leaned in to kiss my cheek.
My hand moved and made contact
SLAP
Gasps rippled through the studio.
His cheek went red. His smile vanished.
“You dare hit me?” He yelled.
“I don't know you,” I said, shaking. “Don't touch me.”
He looked at Elna. “What is this? Some kind of joke?”
“Sir Lucas, please,” Elna said softly, stepping in.
“Lucas,” Elna called out his name again.
That name sounds familiar
He stared at me. Then turned and stomped out.
The gasp turned to whispers. What happened? She slapped Lucas?
When the noise died down, Elna came over, pale.
“That was Lucas. The fashion mogul. Your best client. Today was a big day for you.”
“What?”
“You've been talking to his company representatives for over a year. Today was the first time he ever came here. He wanted to meet you.”
My knees felt weak.
Elna held my arms. “You've been working on this day for months. It was supposed to make you a global icon.”
I looked out the window.
He entered the car, sat down while his driver closed the door.
But my thought process was hijacked when I saw him rise from the leather interior like a phantom from the past—tall, sharp suit, sunglasses.
He opened the door again
And then he looked up.
Straight at me.
I stopped breathing.
- Writer
