THE INVISIBLE HEIRESS

CHAPTER ONE

Lyanna's POV.

I walked into the magnificent ballroom, my heels clicking softly on the polished black marble, each tap echoing in time with the swelling music. The room shimmered with elegance, more dazzling than I had imagined, and I tried to keep my composure despite the sudden rush of nerves curling in my stomach.

Sleek crystal chandeliers floated above the crowd, scattering soft white light that bounced off the masks, the polished floor, and the swirl of gowns and tailored suits. The effect was almost hypnotic, a glittering sea of faces and secrets.

I paused just inside the entrance, taking it all in. The tall purple and white orchids arranged along the edges of the room were perfect.

In the far corner, a live band played modern orchestral remixes, the songs vibrating warmly across the room. Some guests danced with perfectly with their partners,their shoes clicking and sliding on the floor in harmony with the music. Others lingered near the buffet or the bar, sipping champagne and exchanging polite smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

The first few songs passed in a blur. The music paused and a soft murmur ran through the crowd,their eyes were scanning me like I was a rare gem set up for an auction. Their stares made me uncomfortable.

I made my way to the buffet table, hoping to lose myself among the platters of fruit, pastries, and delicate cakes,also feeling the least bit comfortable. I picked up a small plate and dished a slice of chocolate cake, savoring the faint sweetness as a distraction from the weight in my chest.

I noticed him earlier,when I walked into the ball room,he was looking at me more intently like he wanted to devour me.He was tall, with sharp features and a presence that made everything else around him fade. The world didn’t stop, but it might as well have.

“Anna, is t… that y… you?” His voice trembled, breaking as he spoke. Each word stumbled out, hesitant, yet weighted with recognition. My stomach dropped. He looked at me like I was someone he had lost long ago, someone irreplaceable.

I held his gaze carefully, forcing calm over the panic rising within me. “I’m sorry. My name is Maria,” I replied, my voice even, almost hollow.

His eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step closer. “N…n…no… You’re Lyanna… Lyanna Dorva. It’s me… Cassian.”

My hands tightened around the plate. My mind screamed at me to leave, to vanish into the crowd.

“Sir, I do not know you,” I said, carefully calm, my tone measured, “and if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my leave.” Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and moved toward the exit. The whispers followed me, even over the soft hum of the band.

“I thought she was dead!” one voice hissed.

“She isn’t supposed to be here!” another muttered.

I didn’t look back. The stares crawling over my back, the speculation, the recognition—it was all too much. My chest felt tight, my head dizzy. I walked faster, my heels clicking louder on the tiles, until I finally burst through the doors and into the cool night air.

My car awaited, the engine already idling. The driver didn’t speak; he never did. I sank into the leather seat, letting my head rest against the headrest. My hands shook slightly as I replayed the encounter in my mind.

Why did he call me Lyanna? Why did his voice feel familiar when my own memories offered no answers?

I had grown up in a warehouse in Milan, abandoned by a world that had forgotten me. The Faction had been my family, my home, my only anchor. They had taken me in as a child and raised me, taught me how to survive. I had no parents I remembered, no past that felt real. The warehouse had been my universe, small and protective, until the day I turned twenty and moved to Sicily for better opportunities—a new life, a new city, a fresh start.

Yet now… now, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: a flicker of recognition. Not from memory, but from my soul. The ache of familiarity. Cassian knew me. He remembered me. He saw me. And I… I couldn’t remember him.

I pressed my hands over my face, trying to calm the storm of thoughts inside my head. What if he knows something about my past? What if he remembers who I was before the Faction, before Milan?

The questions burned like fire in my mind, turning into a web of frustration and fear.

I had always believed that my past was gone, erased. That the Faction’s warehouse was the closest thing I had to family. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of the world I had tried to make my own, and looking at me like he had been waiting my entire life.

The car hummed along the streets of Sicily, the lights blurring past the window. I stared into the night, feeling hollow and full all at once. Cassian’s words echoed in my mind. Lyanna Dorva. My own name. A name I had never truly known… until he spoke it.

My fingers tapped against my knee in a nervous rhythm. When I closed my eyes, I could still see him—the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes, the way his voice trembled when he said my name. My heart ached with something I couldn’t name, and a knot of determination formed in my chest. I needed answers.

I didn’t care if the truth hurt. I didn’t care if it meant unraveling the life I had painstakingly built in Sicily. I needed to know why he called me Lyanna, why my soul recognized him even when my mind did not, and most importantly… who I really was.

Who am I?

Why does he know me?

What happened before the Faction?

And most terrifying of all… would I be ready to face the truth when it finally came?

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the window, letting the night air wash over me. I didn’t have the answers yet. I didn’t even know where to begin. But I knew one thing: I couldn’t ignore him. I couldn’t ignore the pull, the ache, the impossibility of it all.

Somewhere deep inside, I felt a promise forming, fragile but unyielding. I would find the truth. I would uncover my past.