Chapter 3

Three years passed in the blink of an eye.

Tonight, every light blazed in the Park Hyatt — the grandest hotel in Oakhaven City.

Julian, the current CEO of Croft Group, was hosting a charity gala, and nearly every name in the city's elite social circle had been invited.

I stood at the entrance to the ballroom in a striking black backless couture gown, my hand resting on Elias's arm.

The noise of the room died the instant we appeared.

Every eye in the place locked onto my face, as if they'd seen a ghost.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is that… Audrey?"

"Didn't she die in that chemical plant fire three years ago? She was cremated. They buried her ashes!"

The whispers spread like wildfire.

I ignored every stare and walked straight toward the center of the room.

Julian was standing with a champagne flute in hand, only half-listening to whoever was flattering him at the moment.

Sophie was nestled close to his side, carrying herself with the quiet ease of someone who had already settled into the role of Mrs. Croft.

The commotion reached him. Julian turned.

The moment he saw me, it was like he'd been struck by lightning.

The champagne flute slipped from his fingers and shattered against the marble floor.

Deep red wine splashed across his expensive dress pants.

"Audrey…"

His voice was trembling so badly he could barely get the words out. His eyes went bloodshot in an instant, and he forgot how to breathe.

Julian — always so untouchable, so above it all — could barely keep himself on his feet.

He stumbled forward, shoving through the crowd, trying to get to me.

Sophie grabbed his sleeve and held on for dear life, her nails digging into his arm.

"Julian, get a grip!"

"Audrey is dead. You carried her ashes yourself!"

"This is just some woman who looks like her!"

Her sharp voice cut through the eerie silence like a knife.

Julian stopped dead in his tracks.

He stared at my face, searching desperately for any sign that this was some kind of trick.

I reached over and plucked a glass of red wine from a passing waiter's tray, raising it toward him from across the room.

"Nice to meet you, President Croft."

"I'm Blair Sterling — Executive President of North America Region at Apex Capital."

The system had reshaped my body, but it couldn't touch my face.

Still, under Elias's careful arrangements, I now had a new identity — airtight, unassailable.

The shock in Julian's eyes slowly curdled into something obsessive. Suspicious.

He suddenly strode toward me, his gaze locked onto my left arm.

"If this is really our first time meeting," he said, "then maybe you can explain why you're wearing my dead wife's face."

Three years ago, in that fire, a steel rod had torn straight through my left arm.

He had watched that wound bleed with his own eyes.

Now he was using it as a test.

I let out a soft laugh. Right there, in front of everyone, I slowly slipped the silk shawl from my shoulders.

My left arm was bare — smooth, pale, flawless.

No puncture wound. No burn scars.

Perfect. Like something sculpted from marble.

Julian's pupils contracted sharply. Whatever last shred of hope had been living behind his eyes — it was gone.

Sophie saw her opening. She immediately shifted into her helpless, pitiful routine.

"Ms. Sterling just looks so much like a dear friend I lost."

"Julian has been grieving. Please don't take it personally."

She slipped her arm through Julian's and pressed herself against him — a quiet, deliberate claim.

"I'm curious, though — are you here tonight representing Apex Capital, or someone else?"

Sophie's eyes slid warily to Elias, standing at my side.

Elias was wearing a silver half-mask that left only his sharp, angular jaw exposed. No one recognized him — the man who had once held the reins of the entire Croft family empire.

I took a slow sip of wine. My smile didn't reach my eyes.

"Who I represent isn't the interesting part."

"What's interesting is that I'm holding something President Croft is going to want very much."

I pulled a document from my clutch and slapped it down on the champagne tower beside us.

The crystal glasses swayed.

President Croft's eyes dropped to the cover page. The color drained from his face.

It was a share acquisition proposal — targeting the core new energy project at Croft Group.

And the name of the acquiring party, printed right there in black and white:

Blair Sterling.