Blurb: Margaret, the ambitious new CEO of her family's failing company was faced with a choice to marry a ruthless billionaire or lose everything . Instead, she forced Emily, her mistreated maid, who looks just like her, to take her place. As Emily pretends to be Margaret, Jonathan marries her, unaware of the switch. Over time, Emily discovers shocking secrets, including that she is Margaret's long-lost twin, switched at birth. As the truth comes closer to being revealed, Emily must face betrayal, manipulation, and danger, all while finding her own path to love and redemption with Jonathan.
Chapter 1 The Decision
The Decision
"Are you just going to sit there all day?"
Margaret Donovan's sharp voice cut through the clamor of the market, startling Emily. She looked up, her heart pounding as her gaze met the icy eyes of the impeccably dressed woman towering over her.
Emily scrambled to her feet, brushing dust off her threadbare dress. "I-I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to-"
"Spare me your excuses," Margaret snapped. Her tone was as cold as her stare, each word laced with disdain. After a long, appraising look, a calculating smirk played on her lips. "You're coming with me. I need a maid."
Emily blinked, confusion knitting her brows. "A maid? But why me?"
Margaret's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken. "Because I said so. Or would you rather stay here, rotting in the streets?"
Emily hesitated. The offer was tempting-a promise of food, warmth, and shelter. But the sharpness in Margaret's gaze made her uneasy.
"I need to tell my mother," she whispered, clutching her hands to keep them from trembling.
Margaret rolled her eyes, irritation flickering across her face. "Fine. You have one minute."
Without waiting for an answer, Margaret turned and strode away, her heels clicking against the cobblestones. Emily hurried after her, doubts gnawing at her with each step.
"Emily!"
Her mother's voice pierced the noise. Emily froze, turning to see Maria pushing through the crowd, her face pale with worry.
"Where are you going?" Maria demanded, gripping Emily's arm tightly as her fearful eyes flicked to Margaret. "Who is this woman? What does she want with you?"
"She's offering me a job, Mama," Emily said softly. "A chance to leave this place. To help us."
Maria's grip tightened. "No. You can't trust her. You don't even know her."
Margaret sighed loudly, her impatience palpable. "I'm offering her an escape from this miserable existence. Would you rather she starve?"
Maria glared at Margaret, suspicion etched into her face. "Why my daughter? Why her, of all people?"
Margaret's smile was icy. "She caught my attention. That's all. If you don't want her to take this opportunity, fine. But don't blame me when she's left here to die."
Emily's chest ached at her mother's silence. She turned to Maria, her voice cracking. "Mama, I have to do this. For us."
Tears filled Maria's eyes as she whispered, "Be careful, my child. Something about this doesn't feel right. Look at her-you two could be sisters."
Margaret stiffened but quickly recovered, letting out a dry laugh. "Coincidence," she said dismissively, pulling a card from her bag and thrusting it at Maria. "Here's my address. Come visit if you're so concerned."
Emily hugged her mother tightly. "I'll be okay. I promise."
Maria's voice trembled. "Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise," Emily said, though the weight in her chest told her this promise wouldn't be easy to keep.
---
The Donovan mansion loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the bustling market. Towering gates framed sprawling gardens, and the mansion's imposing walls exuded an air of unwelcoming grandeur.
"Keep up," Margaret snapped without looking back.
Inside, Emily's unease deepened. The polished marble floors gleamed under glittering chandeliers, and the air carried the faint scent of expensive perfume. Every inch of the mansion screamed wealth, but Emily felt like an intruder, her worn dress and scuffed shoes glaringly out of place.
"Margaret, who is this?"
A commanding voice echoed through the foyer. Emily turned to see an elegant woman descending the grand staircase. Her silver hair gleamed, and her piercing eyes bore into Emily with unsettling intensity.
"This is the new maid," Margaret replied curtly. "I found her in the market."
The woman, Evelyn Donovan, paused mid-step. Her gaze darted between Margaret and Emily, her expression hardening.
"She looks... familiar," Evelyn said, her tone sharp.
Before Emily could respond, Evelyn stepped closer, her hand darting out to grab Emily's arm. She pushed up her sleeve, exposing the small birthmark on her elbow.
"This mark," Evelyn whispered, her voice tight with something Emily couldn't place.
Emily flinched at the grip but managed to stammer, "I've had it since birth."
Evelyn's face paled. Her eyes darted to Margaret, then back to the mark. "You didn't tell me she looked like this," she said, her voice barely audible.
Margaret frowned. "Does it matter? She's just a maid."
Evelyn's voice sharpened. "No. She cannot stay here. Send her away."
Margaret's eyes narrowed. "Why? She's perfect for the job."
"It doesn't matter!" Evelyn snapped. Her composure cracked, and fear flickered across her face. "She cannot stay."
Margaret crossed her arms, defiance sparking in her eyes. "She's staying," she said firmly.
A tense silence filled the room. Evelyn's jaw tightened before she finally relented with a cold, "Fine. But she stays in the servants' quarters. Nowhere else."
Evelyn cast one last, uneasy glance at Emily before walking away, her heels clicking sharply against the marble.
Margaret smirked, triumphant. "Come on," she said to Emily, her tone hard. "You're mine now."
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