No One’s Pov
Reaching ho, Alia started throwing things across the room. A crystal vase shattered against the wall, followed by an expensive makeup organizer. She was so pissed, she wanted nothing more than to kill that girl!
Her assistant stood beside her quietly, keeping her head down, absolutely terrified of angering her mistress even more.
"Where’s the file?!" Alia snapped, her voice screeching through the lavish apartnt.
"H-here, Miss Alia," the assistant whispered, quickly handing over the folder.
Before today, Alia had thought that clumsy girl wasn’t such a big deal, so she hadn’t bothered to check the background check file.
But now, after being humiliated at the restaurant, Vivien was definitely a threat.
Alia ripped the folder open and scanned the pages. She saw nothing but a boring description. Vivien lived in a small apartnt, went to a regular college, and had a mountain of student debt. There was absolutely nothing special about her! Then why is Dominic even interested in her?! Alia thought, her teeth grinding.
Then, her eyes landed on Vivien’s full na written in bold letters. She stopped, raising her eyebrows. Vivien... Why did it feel like she had heard this na sowhere before? It felt strangely familiar,
Needing answers, she grabbed her phone and dialed a familiar number. The call picked up after a few rings.
"Who is Vivien?" Alia demanded without even saying hello.
The man on the other side only let out a low chuckle. "You called just to ask that? Tsk. I am busy preparing for tomorrow’s event, Alia. Don’t bother right now."
Alia’s grip tightened on the phone. "You chuckled! That ans you definitely, definitely know soth—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the line went dead. He had cut the call.
Alia scread in frustration and wanted to throw her phone against the wall, but she stopped herself. Instead, she quickly dialed a completely different number- one she used for dirty work.
The call connected, and a rough voice answered.
"I just sent you a picture and information about a girl," Alia ordered, her voice cold and venomous. "Kidnap her and throw her away sowhere far. I don’t care what you do with her, just make sure she disappears."
She slamd the phone down on the table. Beside her, her assistant stood completely silent, trembling as she realized just how far Miss Alia was willing to go to get rid of Vivien.
_______________
"Achoo!" Vivien sneezed loudly into her quiet bedroom.
She rubbed her nose, sniffing. Was soone talking about behind my back? she wondered. But the mont she settled back into her bed, the mory of what happened in the kitchen flashed through her mind. She pictured herself humming and swaying, and then Dominic standing by the doorfra, watching her with that dark look.
Her face instantly flushed a deep shade of red. She groaned out loud, grabbing her pillow and burying her face under it to hide her embarrassnt. "Damn it! I should have been more careful!"
The whole scene felt familiar. She rembered when she was dancing in Lucian’s house, completely unaware that Dante and Lucian was standing on the front door, watching her. That was the mont Dante had gotten more interested in her, and from there, his terrifying obsession had started.
Vivien shook her head violently under the pillow. No, no, no! I really don’t want any kind of dark romance obsession shit like that in real life! I really hope that grumpy suit just thinks I’m a total idiot and forgets the whole thing!
Suddenly, her eyes fell on her phone Oh, wait! I forgot to check on Alia’s background earlier because of the slow car internet!
Spurred by a sudden burst of energy, she threw the pillow aside, sat up, and grabbed her phone.
Now that she was on her ho Wi-Fi, the pages loaded instantly. She typed in Alia’s na and started searching through the internet.
She scrolled past a bunch of articles and old photos of Alia at various high-society galas. There were even a few viral tweets from random people praising her for being a kind, charitable angel who volunteered at orphanages, along with a bunch of "bla bla" PR nonsense.
Vivien scoffed, rolling her eyes. She really knows how to act for the caras. No wonder she’s basically the real-life version of Alina.
Wanting to find a link to the whole transmigration mystery, Vivien searched further, trying to find any connection between Alia and the author of the book, Elias. She combed through news articles, guest lists, and social dia tags. Nothing. There wasn’t a single connection between them.
"Tsk," Vivien clicked her tongue in disappointnt.
But just as she was about to close the tab, her eyes fell on the education section of Alia’s biography. Her gaze locked onto the na of the high school Alia had graduated from.
Suddenly, Vivien’s eyes widened in absolute shock, her thumb freezing over the screen.
That’s... that’s the exact sa high school I apparently attended as well!
That school was an ultra-elite private high school where only the top 10% of rich kids could afford to go. Vivien had managed to get in on a rare, highly competitive academic scholarship.
A sudden, chilling thought struck Vivien’s mind.
If Alia and I went to the sa elite school... does that an Dominic also went to that sa high school?
Vivien quickly typed Dominic’s na into the search bar, scrolling frantically through his background and corporate profiles. But to her frustration, there was absolutely no ntion of his high school or early graduation details. His public profile completely wiped out his teenage years, showing only his recent achievents as a powerful CEO.
"Tsk, there’s no information about it..." she muttered, tossing her phone onto the soft mattress beside her.
She leaned back against her headboard, staring up at the ceiling as her mind began to race.
It couldn’t be a coincidence. There seed to be so sort of twisted connection between her, Alia, and Dominic. It felt deliberate, as if Elias had personally bound their fates together in this world, just like he did with their characters in the book.
Suddenly, another thought clicked in her brain, making her sit up straight.
If I’m not wrong, and this woman really turns out to be Alina... and she actually knows the writer, and went to the sa high school as ... does that an this mystery writer, aka Elias, is also soone I know?
A chill ran down her spine. The pieces were starting to fit together. I might be wrong, but I’m definitely not entirely wrong, she reasoned, her eyes narrowing.
What if he also went to the exact sa high school?
If Elias was a classmate from her past, it would explain how he knew her, why he wrote a book using faces from their real lives, and why she was brought into this ss in the first place.
Tomorrow’s author eting wasn’t just a casual event anymore- it was the key to everything. She absolutely had to sneak in and see his face, no matter what!!
_______________
*Bzzzbzzz!*
Vivien’s phone vibrated beside her, shocking her awake. She blinked against the bright morning light flooding through her window and looked down at her screen.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she turned off the alarm.
The initial grogginess vanished the mont she rembered what day it was. Excitent washing over her, she cheerfully freshened up in the bathroom and hurried into the kitchen to wolf down a plain breakfast of toast and tea.
Hmm, the author program will start in two hours, she calculated, tapping her chin as she looked at the clock. So if I leave right now, I will have more than enough ti to figure out a way to sneak past security and enter the venue...
She let out a satisfied hum. Besides, that grumpy suit won’t even be at the office today since he’s visiting his mom, so I don’t really have to worry about him catching -
Suddenly, her phone rang, the loud ringtone cutting through her thoughts. Vivien looked down at the screen.
Speaking of the devil!
The caller ID brightly displayed Dominic’s na : Mr Grumpy Suit
she quickly pressed answer and brought the phone to her ear. Instantly, his deep icy voice traveled through the line.
"Be at the airport in two hours."
Vivien’s jaw dropped. "Huh?? But... why?!"
"I am leaving to visit my mother, and since you are my personal maid, shouldn’t you be joining ?" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Panic flared in Vivien’s chest. The airport?! No, no, no! If I get on a plane with him, I’ll completely miss the author eting! My entire plan will be ruined!
Her brain went into absolute overdrive, desperately scanning for any excuse to get out of this. Suddenly, an idea rang a bell.
She pinched her nose to alter her voice and let out a series of dramatic fake coughs.
"Cough, cough! Mr. Valente... cough... as you can hear, I have a very bad cold," she whined, trying to sound as weak and pathetic as possible. "And a high fever, too... cough... I really can’t join you today, I apologize! I hope you have a safe and great journey!"
The other side of the line went completely dead. Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity.
Vivien held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she kept praying internally, please buy it, please buy it, please don’t co check on ...
"Fine," Dominic uttered flatly.
And with that single word, he cut the call.
Vivien slowly lowered the phone, staring at the black screen, completely dumbfounded. Huh? Did that arrogant, stubborn billionaire just agree to let her off that easily? No demands? No suspicious questioning? It felt way too easy, but she didn’t have ti to overthink it.
"Whatever! A win is a win!" she cheered, throwing her arms in the air. Grabbing her bag, her thick glasses, and her notebook, she rushed out the door to catch a ride to the venue.
On the other side of the city, inside the luxurious VIP lounge of the airport, Dominic sat alone, staring down at his laptop.
The screenwas showing a live feed of a familiar small apartnt building. Right on cara, the screen displayed the tiny girl running out of her house hurriedly, looking completely energetic and perfectly healthy as she checked her watch and rushed down the street.
Dominic leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes tracking her every movent on the screen.
"Sick, huh..." he muttered, his voice low.
A smirk played on his lips, but his eyes remained entirely cold. He had known the mont she started fake coughing into the call that she was pulling a fast one on him. But seeing her sprint like a track star just minutes after claiming she had a debilitating fever was almost amusing.
"Lying to wasn’t a great choice, apparently, Miss Troubleso," he murmured to the empty room.
He closed the laptop. Standing up from his seat, he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, slung his jacket over his arm, and walked away.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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