You’re not like Mama...

Liora's pov

I never thought I’d be walking into my sister’s life, pretending to be her, living in her home, raising her child, and sleeping beside her husband. But here I was,

The car rolled through iron gates taller than any house I’d lived in, and my breath caught as I saw the mansion ahead. It was beautiful, cold, and terrifying. Just like the man waiting for me inside.

Draven Damian.

He wasn’t my husband. He was Lyra’s. My twin. The sister who vanished without warning. And now, I had to take her place and fool everyone, even him.

I gripped the edge of my seat, my fingers shaking. I wasn’t ready. No one would ever believe I was Lyra. We may look alike, but we were two different people.

She was cold, bold and untouchable. I was quiet and careful. I liked peace. She liked chaos.

“You have to get this right,” Uncle Silas said beside me, his voice low. “No mistakes, Liora. If Draven finds out you’re not her, we’re both dead.”

I nodded once. I knew the risk. But I had no choice.

The car slowed, and through the window, I saw him, tall and mysterious, standing like a statue carved out of power. A small boy stood beside him, clinging to his hand. That boy was the reason I was here. Dante. Lyra’s son.

I didn’t know how a mother could walk away from her own child. But Lyra had. And now, I had to be the mother he needed, even if he never looked at me the same way again.

Silas nudged me forward. “Go. Your husband’s waiting.”

My legs felt like stone, but I stepped out anyway, lifting my chin and smiling like Lyra would, like I owned the world. I was about to step into a life that was never mine. And there was no turning back.

I tried to stop my hands from shaking. I had just stepped into the Damian mansion, but the burden of pretending to be Lyra was already pressing on my chest like a boulder. One wrong move, and everything would fall apart.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see Mama, Dante?” Draven asked. Dante nodded shyly.

I forced a smile and picked him up, kissing both his soft cheeks. The way he looked at me, so small, so gentle, tugged at something deep in my heart. I didn’t need to fake that part. I truly loved children. And this boy, my nephew, already had a piece of me.

“I’ve brought your wife home, Mr. Draven,” Uncle Silas said politely beside us. “I trust you’ll still support our company’s investment.”

“That depends,” Draven replied without emotion. “If your daughter disappears again and makes my son cry, I won’t hesitate. I’ll kill every last one of you.”

The coldness in his voice made me feel as if ice ran down my spine. Silas stiffened beside me.

“Then I’ll take my leave,” Silas said quickly, and then turned to me. “Lyra, behave. Do whatever your husband says.”

I wanted to nod like a polite girl, but I remembered, Lyra wouldn’t do that. Lyra always had something sharp to say. So I put on her voice. Her attitude.

“Well,” I said with a smirk, “That depends on how nicely my sweet husband treats me. Give me what I want, and I’ll be your darling little kitten.” I hated every word. But I said them anyway.

Silas left without another glance, leaving me alone with Draven and Dante.

Draven stepped closer. He bent slightly, his mouth near my ear.

“If you leave again without a word…” his tone was low and firm, “…I’ll kill you.”

Then he turned and walked away. I stood frozen, my arms still wrapped around Dante. My legs didn’t want to move. I had no idea where to go next. This mansion was a maze. I didn’t even know where her room was. Where my room was now.

“Dante,” I said softly. “Where’s your room? And Mama’s room?”

He stared at me with quiet curiosity. “Are you really my Mama?”

I froze inside. I forced another smile.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“You’re not like Mama,” he said. “You don’t shout when Papa’s not here. And… your eyes are different.”

My heart pounded. I had forgotten, my eyes were brown. Lyra’s were black.

“Mama’s eyes always looked like this,” I said quickly. “Maybe you forgot, sweetie. I’ve just been gone a while.”

He didn’t look convinced. But he nodded slowly. “I love Mama. Please don’t leave me again.”

Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I swallowed them.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He hugged me tightly, his small arms wrapped around my neck. I held him close and kissed his forehead.

“Come on, show Mama your room.”

Dante pointed upstairs, and I carried him up the grand staircase. The hallway was long and silent, filled with expensive paintings and golden decorations. A few people passed us, maids, I guessed but their eyes followed me with coldness. They didn’t like Lyra. They didn’t like me.

We stopped in front of a white door. His name was painted in bold blue letters: Dante.

I stepped inside. His room was beautiful. Huge windows, soft carpets, a big bed, and toys everywhere, cars, airplanes, puzzles, tiny cities built with blocks. It looked like a dream. But dreams didn’t erase pain.

“Ma?” he said gently.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Mama never read me bedtime stories,” he said, eyes low.

That broke me a little more. I sat on his bed and began to tell him a story I used to love as a child. He curled up beside me, listening closely, his eyes wide with wonder.

Behind us, I felt someone watching. Maybe a maid. Maybe someone else. But I didn’t care. This boy had gone to bed too many nights without a mother’s love. I wouldn’t be the next person to fail him.

“Ma…” he said again as I tucked him in. “Can you read me a story tomorrow too? And… can you promise not to yell at me again like before?”

I bit my lip. My throat tightened.

“If Mama is like this now,” he added in a tiny voice, “then the old Mama doesn’t need to come back.”

I couldn’t speak. How did a child know so much pain? I leaned down and hugged him

tightly.

“Dante…” I whispered, “call me… Liora.”