Chapter 3: A Woman Scorned

Westland Hospital.

Richard and Jessica rushed into the hospital, their faces etched with panic. They hurried over to the reception counter where a receptionist was working.

"Please, I got a call that my wife was in an accident and was rushed here," he said, his breath muffled and short.

"Oh, yes, sir. She was brought in not long ago. She's in room 46; the doctor is with her now," one of the receptionists said.

Jessica and Richard dashed to the room where Aurora was. Just then, the doctor attending to her stepped out, his face pale.

"Doctor, how is my wife?" Richard asked, his voice trembling with a feigned concern.

The doctor heaved a long, heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, sir. But your wife... she didn't make it. She's gone," he said, lowering his head slightly.

Richard and Jessica's expressions were unreadable, as if they were trying to mask the happiness they truly felt.

"What did you say?" Richard snarled, his voice laced with a hidden sarcasm.

"I'm so sorry. We did everything we could, but her injuries were too severe," he said.

Richard slumped into a chair, raking his hands through his hair.

"It's okay, Richard. Aurora is in a better place now," Jessica said, rubbing his shoulders.

The doctor excused himself and walked away.

Suddenly, their expressions changed completely.

"Oh, thank God. That bitch is finally gone," Richard said, his voice barely a whisper.

Jessica straightened her shirt, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

"So, that means we can take her entire fortune now, right? I mean, now that she's gone."

Richard rubbed his temples, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"You know, I'm almost glad Aurora never signed those divorce papers. I might not have gotten full access to her money. But now... it's a different story," he said, his voice buzzing with excitement.

"Don't get too excited yet. Remember, we have to put on our grieving masks and pretend we miss that bitch," she cautioned.

Richard let out a faint scoff.

"Well, that'll be easy. As long as I get the fortune, I'll play any part."

Jessica let out a soft chuckle, then quickly replaced it with a look of concern.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

(Aurora)

I woke up, a dim light piercing my eyes. I squinted, trying to adjust to my surroundings. I was in a hospital room, but it looked private. Flowers and get-well cards were arranged on a nearby table.

I tried to remember what had happened. Why was I here?

"Hello, ma'am! You're awake! Thank God," a soft voice came from the doorway. A young nurse walked in, a wide smile spread across her face.

Confusion must have been plain on my face. "Wait, what happened? Where am I?" I asked.

The nurse heaved a heavy sigh. "Ma'am, you had a bad fall down the stairs and hit your head. You were rushed here, but you've been in a coma for five months. I'm so glad you're awake now," she said, her tone dripping with genuine happiness.

Panic surged through me as I tried to remember. Then, the memories of that night came flooding back: catching my best friend in bed with my husband, leaving in a rage, speeding off in my car... and then a white van slamming into me.

"Arghh!" I held my head as a sharp pain accompanied the returning memories. "I didn't fall down the stairs. I was in an accident."

"Take it easy, ma'am. Try not to stress your brain," she said, gently rubbing my shoulder. "I'll go call your godfather and let him know you're awake."

"My... godfather?" I asked, my head throbbing from the information overload.

"Yes, ma'am. Your godfather."

I took a deep breath, trying to process it all. Then, my eyes darted to a mirror on the wall. My body froze completely. My eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

The face staring back was not my own. My hair was shorter, my lips were fuller-I was in a completely different body. How? How on earth was this possible?

"Nurse! This... this isn't my face! What the hell is happening?" I cried, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Ma'am, you've just woken up. The emotions are overwhelming. I think you should rest," she said calmly.

I raked my hands through my hair in utter confusion. "Wait, where is this hospital? How far are we from New York?"

The nurse gave me a puzzled look. "New York? Ma'am, we're in Italy."

My jaw dropped. Just then, a news segment on the television caught my eye. It was a video of Richard and Jessica.

"Please, turn the volume up," I urged the nurse.

She did, and the headline on the screen made my chest tighten: "Businessman Richard Williams and his wife, Jessica Williams, have acquired a new private jet. Mr. Williams stated he wanted to celebrate his wife's birthday in style, so he fulfilled her wish. This couple makes falling in love look sweet. Following the untimely passing of his former wife, Aurora Cole, Richard has remarried; his wife is now the actress Jessica Williams."

Wife? Private jet? More hot tears fell. Those bastards had taken over my father's fortune now that they thought I was gone.

My mind snapped back to the white van. Had Richard orchestrated the whole thing? A huge lump formed in my throat as my thoughts spiraled.

Perhaps destiny was rewriting my fate. I swore then that I would make them pay. They would regret the day they chose to betray me.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

The door creaked open, and a tall, imposing man entered. He wore a hat and leaned on a walking stick. In his right hand, he held a beautiful bouquet of flowers. His aura was dangerously powerful, and his expensive clothes marked him as a wealthy man. His sharp Italian features were strikingly handsome.

"La Bonita, you're finally awake," the man said, his voice deep as he walked closer. He pulled me into a soft hug, his heavy cologne almost suffocating.

I pulled away and stared at him, bewildered.

"Who are you?"I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Confusion flashed across the man's face. He glanced at the nurse, then back at me.

"Sir,she has just woken up. I suggest we give her some time to rest," the nurse interjected gently.

"La Bonita, you don't remember me? Your godfather?" he said, ignoring the nurse's advice.

So this is my godfather.

I swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"Oh,godfather. I'm sorry for not remembering you. My mind is still a mess," I said.

He rubbed his temples lightly.

"It's okay,Bonita. See, I brought you your favorite flowers," he said, handing me the bouquet.

They weren't my favorite, but I figured they must have been his real goddaughter's.

"Thank you,"I said, genuinely.

Now, I had a new life, a new identity, and a new family. Maybe, just maybe... this was the first step toward my revenge.

Maybe...

Chapter 4: Elizabeth

A few days later, I was finally discharged from the hospital. The doctor confirmed I was in good health and fit to go home. My godfather handled my belongings, and we stepped out into the fresh air.

A sleek black Mercedes waited at the curb. A chauffeur stood attentively by the vehicle, a warm smile spreading across his face as he opened the rear door. "It's wonderful to see you, ma'am," he said.

"Thank you," I replied, sliding into the luxurious interior. My godfather settled in beside me.

"Everyone at the estate will be thrilled to have you back," he said reassuringly.

I swallowed hard, offering a small smile in return. I had no idea what to expect, and I sent a silent prayer that his household was free of the family dramas I dreaded.

The car eventually glided through imposing wrought-iron gates, sweeping up a long, manicured driveway lined with cypress trees. My eyes widened as the mansion came into view. It was a breathtaking palazzo of cream-colored stone, with grand arches and terracotta roofs that glowed in the afternoon sun. Even having been born with a silver spoon, this level of opulence was staggering.

As we stepped out of the car, a row of staff-security, maids, and housekeepers-stood assembled before the grand entrance, their faces beaming with genuine welcome. "We are so happy to see you, ma'am!" they chorused in unison.

The grand gesture touched a deep chord within me. "Thank you, all," I said, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. It had been so long since my father's passing that I had forgotten what such a heartfelt welcome felt like.

"Let's go inside, Bonita," my godfather said, guiding me forward. The name gave me pause. Bonita-was it his granddaughter's real name, or simply a Spanish term of endearment? I took a steadying breath and crossed the threshold.

The interior was even more magnificent. A colossal diamond chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering prisms of light across the marble floors. Ornate portraits adorned the walls. One featured my godfather, resplendent in a sharp black suit, with the name DON JULIO ALVAREZ inscribed boldly at the top. Another depicted him with a middle-aged woman and a young lady who shared my face, undoubtedly his late wife and the granddaughter whose life I now inhabited.

"Bonita, one of the staff will show you to your room. You must rest, my dear. I will check on you later," Don Julio said kindly.

I gave a faint nod, and a maid escorted me upstairs.

My new room was... peculiar. Eerie skeletal drawings and macabre portraits hung on the walls. The heavy curtains and bed linens were a stark combination of black and blood-red. The overall decor felt like it belonged to a cult initiate. It seemed Don Julio's real goddaughter had been quite the eccentric.

"So, ma'am, if you require anything, please don't hesitate to ask," the maid said.

"Uhm, actually, could you please help me change all of this?" I gestured around the room. "The curtains, the bedsheets, and especially these portraits. I'd like them removed."

Confusion flickered across her face. "But, ma'am... you were always so passionate about your dark aesthetic and music."

I heaved a long sigh. "Well, not anymore."

She nodded and began the task of dismantling the strange decor. Once she left, I slumped onto the bed, cradling my head in my hands. The reality of my situation was overwhelming. I walked to the full-length mirror and touched the unfamiliar face staring back. I was living in another person's body. Transmigration had been a fantastical concept until this very moment.

My gaze fell upon a laptop resting on an ottoman. I opened it to find a half-empty pack of cigarettes lying across the keyboard. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I immediately tossed them into the trash.

I powered on the laptop and began to research. A search for DON JULIO ALVAREZ yielded immediate results. Pictures of my godfather confirmed he was the owner of the largest conglomerate in Italy, with a vast empire spanning companies in Australia, Canada, Paris, Spain, and America-New York, to be precise. A faint smirk touched my lips at the mention of New York.

Delving into his personal life, I discovered his wife had passed away from cancer five years prior. They had no children of their own. His only goddaughter, the child of a former employee, who was also dead, had been adopted by him. The pieces were falling into place.

Further articles described his goddaughter- Elizabeth Alvarez,as notoriously reckless, known for her drinking, smoking, and string of questionable relationships. I rubbed my temples lightly. It appeared I had my work cut out for me in redeeming this young woman's reputation, now that I was irrevocably stuck in her skin.

Then, a strangely comforting idea began to form in my mind.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Bonita?May I come in?" It was Don Julio.

I quickly closed the laptop."Yes, of course."

He entered,carrying a small plate of cookies, a warm but weary smile on his face. "I hope you're feeling more settled," he said, his voice laced with genuine concern.

"I am,thank you," I replied, returning his smile. I took a steadying breath. "Actually, there's something important I'd like to discuss with you."

His expression shifted instantly,the smile fading into apprehension. "I hope there's no problem, Bonita."

"No,not at all," I assured him, shaking my head. "It's just... I've been thinking. I would like to go to New York to take charge of the company there."

Confusion etched deep lines onto his forehead."Are you serious?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

"Completely,"I said, nodding firmly.

He heaved a long,heavy sigh, the sound filled with a history of disappointment. "Bonita, I must confess, I'm shocked. You've never had any interest in the company. You actively hated the mere mention of responsibility, preferring... other pursuits." He paused, and his voice grew thick with pain. "Before your accident, you came home intoxicated. I had reached my limit with your lifestyle. We had a terrible argument, and in your anger, you tried to run out. You tripped and fell down the stairs." He lowered his head slightly, weighed down by guilt. "It was my fault. I never should have raised my voice at you."

My chest tightened. The real Elizabeth had put this kind man through so much.

I gently placed my hand over his."Godfather, that girl you're describing is gone. I am different now. I promise you, I will make you and the Alvarez name proud."

He looked at me,his eyes tired but searching. A flicker of cautious hope shone through the exhaustion. "It gladdens my heart to hear you say that, Bonita. So, when were you thinking of leaving for New York?"

"Tomorrow,"I stated.

"Tomorrow?"A flash of hurt crossed his face. "You don't wish to spend some time with your old godfather first?"

I offered him a reassuring smile."Please, don't worry. We will keep in constant touch, and I will visit often. It will only be for a year. You'll see."

He rubbed his temples,a gesture of surrender mixed with concern, before finally meeting my determined gaze. "Very well. You may leave for New York tomorrow."

"Thank you,Godfather." A calculated smile spread across my face.

Yes.I was going back to New York. I was going to find Richard.

And I was going to make him,and everyone who betrayed me, pay.

Chapter 5: I've heard a lot about you.

The next morning, my bags were packed and ready for the trip to New York. My heart thudded in my chest as I remembered my purpose: I was going back to face the people who had killed me and stolen my fortune. I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.

Don Julio was waiting for me outside, along with some of the staff.

"Take care,Elizabeth. Make the Alvarez name proud," he said, rubbing my hair affectionately before pulling me into a warm hug. The name Elizabeth sounded strangely comforting coming from him.

"Yes,Godfather," I replied.

The chauffeur opened the rear door for me.I waved goodbye to everyone, feeling a wave of emotion. Don Julio reminded me so much of my father.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at the airport, and I was boarding the plane to New York.

My mind raced with a torrent of thoughts.There was no doubt in my mind that Richard and Jessica had turned the company into their personal bank. I was going to make sure I put an end to their bastardly shenanigans.

---

The flight was smooth, and soon the plane touched down in New York. My private driver was waiting, and he swiftly took my bags. We drove straight to the company headquarters.

As I walked through the familiar glass doors, a hush fell over the main office. One by one, employees rose from their desks, greeting me with respectful nods and smiles. Their deference to the Alvarez name was clear.

Yet, I couldn't miss the subtle glances and whispered exchanges. Some employees studied me with unveiled surprise. The real Elizabeth had been wild and wayward; the woman standing before them now carried herself with a new air of authority and purpose.

I overheard their gossiping whispers. "She's so... different," one murmured. "Is that really Elizabeth?" asked another.

I didn't acknowledge them. I kept walking, my expression neutral and my gaze fixed ahead. I wasn't here for gossip. I was here for revenge.

I settled into the overwhelming grandeur of my new office. It was a corner suite on the top floor, a sweeping space that screamed of power. Sunlight flooded the room through immense floor-to-ceiling windows, framing a breathtaking view of the New York skyline. The floor was polished dark marble that reflected the light, and my desk was a vast, monolithic piece of gleaming ebony. Behind it stood a tall leather chair that felt less like furniture and more like a throne.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Enter," I said.

The door opened to reveal a young, efficient-looking woman. "Ms. Alvarez? I'm Maya, your new personal assistant. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Maya," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "Please, bring me the company's financial files and all major transaction records for the last five years."

She gave a quick, professional nod and returned shortly with a heavy stack of folders. I spent the next hour poring over them, my fingers tracing the lines of numbers that told a story of betrayal. With each page, my suspicions hardened into cold, hard certainty. The discrepancies were glaring, the transfers bold and arrogant.

Finally, I closed the last folder and looked up at my assistant, my expression a carefully crafted mask of calm. "Maya, please schedule an immediate meeting with Mr. Richard Williams, the CEO of William's enterprises."

It was time to face the man who had stolen my life.

Maya looked slightly confused. "Of course, Ms. Alvarez. I'll reach out to Mr. Williams' secretary immediately. However, I should mention his schedule is extremely demanding."

"I understand," I said, my tone leaving no room for negotiation. "But this meeting is not optional. Ensure it is scheduled for tomorrow. Unfailingly. Tell his secretary it is a matter of utmost importance regarding the company's future."

Maya nodded, though her expression was still uncertain. "I'll try my best, Ms. Alvarez."

"Don't try," I said, a sharp edge to my voice. "Make it happen."

After she left, I leaned back in my chair, the soft leather groaning in protest. The rest of the day was spent plotting, my mind a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies. I would be ready for him.

---

The next morning, I dressed like a queen going to war. My suit was exquisitely tailored, a sharp, powerful shade of crimson, and my hair was pulled back into a severe, elegant chignon. Every detail was calculated to project an image of unshakeable authority. I was bringing my A-game.

A flustered but relieved Maya met me at the office door. "Mr. Williams has agreed to the meeting. He'll be here in half an hour."

A cold smile touched my lips. "Perfect."

When Richard finally walked into my office, I remained seated behind my desk, letting him approach me. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly as he took me in, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. He was completely smitten, just as I had intended. I maintained my perfect poise, offering him a cool, calculated smile in return.

This was the man to whom I had been married for five years. The man who had murdered me, stolen my entire fortune, and replaced me with his mistress. A wave of visceral disgust washed over me, but I fixed a steely smile on my face.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Alvarez," he said, his voice slick. He stared at me like I was a prize to be won, his gaze that of a horny beast. "I've heard a great deal about your godfather. He's a very successful businessman."

I rose slowly, extending my hand for a brief, firm handshake. "Well, it's nice to meet you too, Mr. Richard," I said, my voice sweet yet laced with steel. My eyes locked with his, and for a single, electric moment, I let the mask slip just enough for me to see the man I once loved-and the man who killed me-staring back. "I've heard a lot about you, too."