Chapter 2
1737 Words
Cynthia POV
I parked my bike a few blocks away from the hotel, carefully hiding it behind a thick patch of bushes. The adrenaline still coursed through me as I secured my gear, making sure no trace of my mission remained.
Taking a deep breath, I sprinted toward the hotel’s side entrance, my movements swift and calculated. The lobby was bustling with wedding guests, their laughter and chatter blending into a meaningless hum as I slipped past them.
Reaching my room, I wasted no time. I grabbed my rope shooter, aimed, and fired, watching as the line hooked onto the edge of the balcony.
With practiced ease, I climbed up, hoisting myself over the railing. Within moments, I was inside, shedding my assassin persona like a second skin.
Gone were the black suit and boots.
In their place—a delicate, long pink gown that shimmered under the dim lighting, its soft fabric flowing like liquid silk against my skin.
My feet slid into shiny heels, a stark contrast to the combat boots I had worn just minutes ago. A pair of glasses perched on my nose completed the transformation.
The nerd.
The sweet, invisible Cynthia.
If only they knew the truth.
With a final glance at the bag containing my real identity, I tossed it into a corner and stepped out of the room, blending seamlessly into the gathering outside.
The air buzzed with excitement. Women stood together in a tightly packed group, their eager voices echoing through the courtyard.
“Throw it! Throw it!”
I barely glanced up, uninterested, until a sudden blur of white and pink flew through the air—straight toward me.
Before I could react, the bouquet landed squarely in my hands.
The cheers erupted, and every pair of eyes locked onto me.
My fingers curled around the flowers, their delicate scent mixing with the bitterness rising in my throat.
“Perfect,” I thought, forcing a small, awkward smile. The irony.
A shadow loomed beside me.
Mrs. Alderson.
She beamed, her perfectly styled hair and elegant dress making her look like the ideal mother—if only she truly was one.
“Oh, my dear,” she gushed, pulling me into an embrace that felt more suffocating than warm. “I can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle just like your sister." It would make me the happiest mother on earth.”
The words twisted in my chest like a knife.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, plastering on an obedient smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
The word Mom tasted like poison.
She placed a soft kiss on my cheek before stepping back, her joy radiating as if she had no idea what she had done to me. As if she hadn’t shattered my world the night before with a single sentence.
“You are not our biological daughter.”
The memory slammed into me with brutal force.
I had spent my entire life trying to be enough for this family, trying to fit in, only to learn I never truly belonged. I wasn’t an Alderson. I was adopted. A charity case. A stranger in my own home.
I inhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts away as a familiar, sugary-sweet voice interrupted.
“Thia!”
I turned, my eyes meeting Natasha’s.
She stood beside me, glowing with happiness in her perfect wedding gown, her smile soft, genuine—even as it made me want to claw it off her face.
“Can you come home with me, please?” she asked, her voice carrying that childlike plea she had perfected over the years.
I blinked, masking my surprise. She wants me to go to her new home?
“No, Tasha,” I said, feigning nervous hesitation. “It’s your wedding night." I can’t go with you to your matrimonial home.”
Her lips pouted, her blue eyes widening in the way that always made people fold. “I know, Thia, but I need you! I want your help picking what to wear, and you’ve always been smarter than he. You’re the only one I can trust.”
The words settled over me like a cruel joke.
Trust?
She had no idea.
Mrs. Alderson chimed in, her voice smooth, unwavering. “Your sister is right, Cynthia. Go with her. She needs you.”
That was all it took.
Natasha clapped her hands together, her excitement bubbling over. “Please?”
I hesitated for effect, then let out a sigh. “Okay, Tasha.”
Before I could react, she flung her arms around me. “Thanks, sis!”
Sis.
The word sent a dark thrill through me.
Oh, Natasha… if only you knew.
As we walked toward the waiting car, Mrs. Alderson’s voice followed us.
“Remember, Natasha, I need to see my grandchild soon! Don’t fail to make me one tonight!”
Natasha blushed furiously, fanning herself. “Mom!”
Mrs. Alderson just laughed, patting her arm.
The sweetness of it all was enough to make me sick.
I turned to Natasha, my expression carefully crafted with fake amusement. “We should go. Demetrius looks like he can’t wait to have you all to himself.”
Her blush deepened, and she practically floated toward the car.
I followed, slipping into the front seat beside the driver while she climbed into the back, snuggling up to her husband.
My husband.
Or at least, the man who should have been mine.
As the car rolled forward, Demetrius’s phone buzzed repeatedly.
He glanced at the screen, a frown tugging at his lips.
Tasha nudged him. “Honey, maybe you should answer it.”
His jaw clenched before he sighed and picked up the call.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be called to work right now. I took time off for my wedding and—” He froze.
My ears perked up.
“What?” His voice was sharp, alert.
The driver flinched at the sudden intensity, nearly slamming the brakes.
Demetrius’s entire posture stiffened. “Okay… in twenty minutes.”
He hung up.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Tasha asked, concern evident in her tone.
His fingers curled around his phone. “The minister was assassinated.”
A slow, satisfied smirk almost crept onto my lips, but I hid it well.
Assassinated? No.
Avenged.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Demetrius said softly. “But I have to report to work.”
Tasha’s face fell. “But—”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s serious, Natasha.”
I leaned back in my seat, watching as Natasha’s disappointment settled in.
This was just the beginning.
The first of many fractures.
And soon, the perfect little world they had built would start to crumble.
It’s fine. I understand. "Go,” Tasha urged, though the disappointment in her voice was impossible to miss.
Demetrius hesitated, his gaze lingering on her before he sighed. “I’m sorry… I promise I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping out of the car, hailing a cab with urgency.
Tasha watched him disappear down the road, her hands gripping the folds of her dress, her gaze heavy with unspoken fear.
I turned my face away just in time to hide the smile that tugged at my lips.
“Don’t look so sad,” I said smoothly, my voice laced with false reassurance. “He’s serving the nation—you should be proud.”
“I know… it’s just that… it’s our wedding night, and I can’t shake this feeling of… I don’t know…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
Poor, naïve Tasha. So easy to manipulate.
I reached over, patting her hand gently. “It’s going to be fine. Like you said, it’s your wedding—so brighten up.” I flashed her a comforting smile, watching as she forced herself to return it.
“Thanks, Thia. "You’re the best,” she murmured, squeezing my hand.
Of course, I was the best. The best at everything I did—deceiving the Aldersons, playing my part, and hiding the truth beneath a perfect mask.
“Anytime,” I said sweetly, my voice a perfect imitation of friendly warmth.
Then, shifting my attention away from her, I leaned forward. “Let’s move, driver.”
The car rumbled back to life, and as the city lights blurred past us, I let myself savor the small victory.
One step closer.
The car pulled up in front of the Shipp mansion, its grand exterior glowing under the soft moonlight.
As soon as Tasha stepped out, four maids rushed forward, fussing over her dress and guiding her inside like she was some kind of queen.
I followed at a slower pace; like always, I was unnoticed, unimportant and invisible.
Just as I reached the steps, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced around before slipping away from the entrance, making sure no one was watching as I answered.
“What is it, Draco? ""You can’t just call me whenever you please,” I muttered, keeping my voice low.
“Cut the crap, Thia. Kingsley Shawn just landed. He’s waiting for his driver at the private terminal. This is your best shot.”
My lips curled into a smirk. “Next time, try giving me a proper heads-up,” I said, then ended the call.
I pulled out my notepad—the one where I kept track of my targets. Kingsley Shawn. Number two on the list.
I took a deep breath, stuffing the notepad back into my pocket. I turned to head toward the side gate, planning to slip away before anyone noticed I was gone—
But I collided with a hard chest.
The impact sent my notepad flying from my grip, landing open on the marble steps.
I barely had time to react before a hand reached down, picking it up. My breath caught in my throat.
Demetri.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at the station. How—
“I forgot my badge,” he said coolly, his voice unnervingly calm. But his expression darkened as his eyes flicked over the open page.
I swallowed hard as he read the names. My targets.
When his gaze lifted back to mine, there was no warmth left. Only cold, calculating fury.
My heart pounded.
The charade was over.
And it had to be him.
- Writer
