She stoops to conquer

She stoops to conquer

Rayven

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When desperation meets deception, a young lady assumes a new identity to uncover the truth about her past & also to the murder of the said person she took Identity from...As she infiltrates a world of privilege and power, she discovers that her new persona's life is built on lies - and deception ...But as she rises to the top, she uncovers more than she bargained for. She now dives into revenge to bring justice to all who have wronged her.. Will her secrets be exposed, or will her fake life become her reality?, will she finally get to know her parents?... Would she be able to cope with this new life? Is her fake identity somehow linked to her real identity??.. There is more to this novel that meets the eye..

Chapter 1 The box

The stench of rotting fish clung to my jacket as I shoved open the door of the house. The lock was broken-again-and the draft from the harbor slithered in like a thief.

"Grandma?" My voice cracked. No answer. Just the drip-drip-drip of the kitchen sink and the distant ticking of the clock

I dropped her grocery bag-two cans of soup, half-stale bread-and froze.

The bed was empty.

A slick, metallic smell hit her first. Then I saw it: blood smeared on the floorboards, leading to the closet. My pulse hammered as I yanked the door open.

Grandma slumped against the wall, clutching a rusted box. Her lips moved, soundless.

"Len... you were never... supposed to be here."I didn't know if she was talking about this exact moment or something else..

The last word dissolved into a wet cough. Then silence. What does that even mean...

My knees hit the floor. I pried the box from Ma's stiff fingers. Inside:

A yellowed photo of a woman who looked like

Me-same sharp cheekbones, same defiant glare-standing beside a man in a tailored suit. She was well dressed & beautiful they seem to be from a rich home _her mother??

"Grandma!!!.. what is this... Is this my mom??"

Grandma nodded weakly.

Her breath stuttered. The Boston's royalty. The company whose name she could remember as a kid at every time their limousines roared past the slums then. What became of them now she couldn't tell... she had since never heard of them neither could she tell what really happened.. Rumor had it that they suffered losses & the owners had to sell the company... What was this box all about??...

There was a knock at the door.

"No...Not now" Eleanor thought she was in her early 20's..23 to be precise..& she lived with her foster family.. she knew them ever since she was young. They had shortened her name to Len which to them was more easier to say .

Grandma was the mother of Len's foster mother.. she was the nicest & kindest, quite opposite of her daughter & even worse her son-in-law ... Len had always gone to her when she had a quarrel with her ma which happened frequently... Now she had taken ill she suffered heart problem & stroke. She heard her ma discussing with her husband that her sickness was a 'lost cause'... "She wouldn't live up to a week, the doctor had said. So we should rather not spend much money taking her to the hospital. Plus she is already very old" ma had said earlier before..

"Len"

She hid the box she had forgotten that someone had knocked earlier. "yes am coming"

"What took u so long" Lisa her foster sis had said while walking in .."Mom had sent for you & she is pissed" she added quickly..

"I just wanted to see if ma needed help, I would be back, won't take time".

Lisa looked at me & humped "suit yourself" with that she left... They had assigned a nurse to take care of grandma but today was her day off..

I quickly went in & helped grandma up & put her back on her old dusty bed...then I soothed her hair with gentle strokes...

"Grandma .."I said..." I Kno u Kno something about my real parents.. please tell me something.. anything...

She coughed weekly & her breathing was frail...

"Eleanor... This life wasn't meant for u.. u had a really rich family & ... She coughed repeatedly... I brought her water instantly...

"What was my family's name.."

"C...c" & all went silent grandma had stopped breathing & her face looked peaceful...

95 year old Rosa was dead. Len covered her face with a piece of clothe..

Tears streamed down lens face... She didn't get to Kno about her family & why she was abandoned... Since her family was rich, why had they left her... Was she hated & not loved...she wasn't thinking rationally her feelings were mixed with anger & sadness & pain.. She cried for a long time too, she was going to miss grandma alot but then again annoyed at the same time because she hadn't asked Grandma anything before then or even gotten any information before she died finally, that wasn't the end of the world, she was going to get the truth one way or the other she summoned courage & left for what she assumed was home.

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Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

SHANA GRAY
4.3

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

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