Chapter Seven: Her Face in the Fire
529 Words
The silence after his confession hung thick in the air, like smoke that refused to rise.
Alina stared at him.
“The girl you replaced…”
Those words rang in her head like a funeral bell.
“Tell me what happened,” she said, quietly now.
Not demanding—pleading.
Xander turned away. “You’re not ready.”
“You said that before. But I’m already in the fire, Xander. Burn me with the truth.”
He stood by the window, hands clenched behind his back. His voice dropped to a low, haunted growl.
“She was someone I knew before the money. Before the power. Before I became... this.”
Alina stepped closer.
“Her name was Isla. She was bright. Loud. Smarter than me. She challenged everything I thought I knew.”
“What happened to her?” she whispered.
“There was a fire,” he said, each word a blade. “In one of my private villas. Someone planted it. She died inside.”
Alina’s breath caught. “You were with her?”
“No. I left her alone. I got a call—I thought it was urgent. When I came back…”
His voice broke. “They said there wasn’t enough left of her to bury.”
Alina’s eyes stung. She reached for his arm, but he stepped back.
“They said it was an accident. But a week later… I got a note. Same handwriting as yours.”
> “You killed her. And when the next one burns, you’ll watch it happen.”
---
Later that night…
Alina tried to sleep, but nightmares clawed at her. Flames. Screams. A girl’s laugh fading into smoke.
She woke with a start—covered in sweat. And then she saw it.
A photo. On her nightstand.
It wasn’t there before.
She picked it up with trembling hands.
Two girls. One of them was her—taken recently.
But the other?
The other looked just like her. Same hair. Same build. Same eyes. Just a little older. A little brighter.
Isla.
A note was scribbled across the bottom.
> “How many women need to die before he pays?”
Alina’s breath froze.
She wasn’t just a replacement.
She was a mirror.
---
Meanwhile…
In his office, Xander stood over the blueprints of the estate, watching camera angles. None of the feeds showed anyone entering Alina’s room.
Except Renna.
He dialed a secure line.
“Pull her files. Everything. I want to know who the hell she really is.”
“She was cleared, Xander,” the voice said.
“Then clear her again. She’s not just jealous—she’s involved.”
---
Back in Alina’s room…
She paced, photo still in hand. Mind spinning. Hands shaking.
She dialed an old contact from her father’s past.
A fixer. Someone who owed her family favors.
“I need information on a girl named Isla Marino,” she whispered. “And I need it fast.”
“You okay, kid?” the voice asked.
“No,” she replied.
“But I will be. Once I find out who’s hunting me through a dead girl’s shadow.”
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