CHAPTER 4
1592 Words
Ophelia
The lobby of X-Corp looked different when you weren't sneaking through the side entrance to clock in at the mailroom. It was all glass, steel, and people who looked like they hadn't eaten a carb since the nineties.
I felt like an intruder. Even with this face and the five-thousand-dollar suit Clara picked out for me, I kept expecting security to tackle me and ask for my janitorial badge.
Reina, breathe. You’re the boss now. Or a boss. Just don't look at the floor.
Clara led me toward the private elevator that required a thumbprint and a retina scan. This was the executive level, a place I used to think was reserved for gods and people who didn't have to check their bank balance before buying a loaf of bread.
The elevator opened into a lounge that felt more like a tomb. It was quiet, expensive, and cold enough to see your breath.
Lucian Thorne was already there, sitting by the window with a glass of something amber and a face that looked like it was carved out of granite. He didn't stand up when I walked in.
He just looked at me. His eyes were like two pieces of ice, and they seemed to be peeling back the layers of my skin to see the fraud underneath.
"You’re late," he said. His voice was a low growl that made the hair on my arms stand up.
I felt that old, familiar panic rising in my throat. It was the same feeling I had when Vikram would come home and find a dish in the sink.
My shoulders hunched automatically. I wanted to apologize, to tell him I was sorry and it wouldn't happen again.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice tiny and weak. "The traffic was just really bad, and I'm still feeling a bit..."
Lucian stopped mid-sip. He set the glass down on the marble table with a sharp click that sounded like a bone snapping.
He stared at me for a long beat. The silence in the room became suffocating.
Why is he looking at me like I just grew a second head? What did I say?
A server moved in silently, placing a cup of tea in front of me. Without thinking, I looked the woman in the eye and gave her a small, grateful smile.
"Thank you so much," I said softly. "I really appreciate it."
The server froze for half a second before nodding and scurrying away like she’d seen a ghost. I looked back at Lucian, and his eyes had narrowed into slits.
"Who are you?" he asked. The question was quiet, but it carried the weight of a sledgehammer.
"What? I'm Ophelia," I said, trying to find that honey-smooth tone again. "I just told you, the surgery—"
"The Ophelia I know would have thrown that tea at the girl for it being two degrees too cold," Lucian interrupted. He leaned forward, his shadow falling across the table.
"The Ophelia I know doesn't apologize for being late. She walks in and demands to know why the room isn't at the right temperature."
Uhm……. So the real Ophelia was a total nightmare? Great. I have to be a b***h to survive.
I tried to straighten my back. I tried to remember the way the girls at the front desk used to talk to me when I was just Reina the mail girl.
They were sharp. They were arrogant. They looked at everyone like they were gum on the bottom of their shoes.
"I've been through a lot, Lucian," I said, trying to inject some ice into my voice. "Maybe the surgery changed my perspective."
"Perspective doesn't pay back fifty million dollars," he snapped. He reached into a leather folder and tossed a document onto the table.
"Your parents were many things, Ophelia, but they weren't smart. They leveraged every bit of your company's equity to fund their lifestyle before they died."
I looked down at the paper. The numbers were staggering. It wasn't just debt; it was a black hole.
"The only reason I'm even sitting in this room with you is because of that contract," Lucian said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I own your company, your brand, and for the next five years, I essentially own you."
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. This wasn't a business partnership. This was a prison sentence in high-heeled shoes.
"I understand," I whispered. My hands were shaking under the table, so I gripped my knees until it hurt.
"Do you?" Lucian stood up and walked around the table. He stood directly behind my chair, and I could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Because you're acting like a frightened rabbit. You're wide-eyed, you're stuttering, and you're being polite to the help."
He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. "Did the surgeons scramble your brain, or are you trying to play some new, pathetic game?"
I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to turn around and scream at him. I wanted to tell him that I had survived things he couldn't even imagine.
I had survived Vikram. I could survive a man in a tailored suit.
"I'm not playing a game," I said, forcing my voice to stay level. I didn't look back at him.
"Then prove it. The merger goes through on Friday. If you show up to that press conference looking like a kicked puppy, I'll liquidate your assets and leave you with nothing."
He walked toward the door, not even looking back. He stopped with his hand on the handle.
"And Ophelia?" he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Don't ever thank the server again. It makes you look weak. And I don't deal with weak people."
The door clicked shut, and the silence returned, heavier than before. I sat there staring at the tea, which was now cold.
Are you kidding me? This guy is a literal monster. No wonder Ophelia was so miserable.
I realized then that the "golden life" was just another cage. Reina was trapped by poverty and violence; Ophelia was trapped by debt and cold-blooded sharks like Lucian Thorne.
I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I had to get out of there before I broke down.
As I walked back through the hallways of X-Corp, I saw a group of janitors pushing a cart near the elevators. They didn't look at me.
To them, I was just another rich woman in a suit. I was the person they had to move out of the way for.
I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my chest. I wanted to stop and tell them my name. I wanted to tell them I knew what it was like to be invisible.
But I couldn't. I had to be the queen, even if the crown was made of thorns and the throne was built on a lie.
Clara was waiting for me in the lobby, her face unreadable. She saw the look on my face and sighed.
"That bad?" she asked as we walked toward the car.
"He thinks I'm a different person," I said, sliding into the back seat. "He thinks the surgery messed me up."
"Maybe that's for the best," Clara said, her eyes fixed on her phone. "If he thinks you're broken, he might underestimate you."
Underestimate me? I don't even know what I'm doing!
I thought about the burner phone in my drawer. I thought about the text message. "Don't forget our deal."
Was Lucian part of the deal? Or was there someone even more dangerous waiting in the shadows?
I looked out the window as we drove away from X-Corp. I saw a playground in the distance, and for a split second, I thought I saw a little boy with dark hair.
Leo.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. Every minute I spent playing this game was a minute he was alone with a man who could kill him.
I had to get the money. If Lucian owned the company, then I had to find a way to take it back. Or I had to find a way to disappear again, this time with my son.
But how do you disappear when your face is on every billboard in the city?
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of silk and lies.
"Clara," I said, my voice sounding a bit more like the old Ophelia—sharper, colder.
"Yes?"
"Find out everything you can about the debt my parents left behind. Every cent. Every creditor. I want the full list by tonight."
Clara looked up, her eyebrows raised in surprise. She didn't say anything for a moment, just studied me.
"Of course, Ophelia," she said finally. A small, almost invisible smile played at the corner of her mouth. "I'll have it for you."
I turned back to the window. I didn't care about the stock market or the mergers or the fancy tea.
I was a mother on a mission. And if I had to become a monster to save my son, then that’s exactly what I would do.
Watch out, Lucian. You have no idea who you're dealing with.
The city lights blurred as the car sped up. I wasn't just Reina anymore, and I wasn't just Ophelia.
I was something else.
And I was going to make them all pay for what they did to us.
- Writer
