Irena walked quickly down the long hallway. She reached her room and stepped inside. She pushed the door shut and turned the lock until it clicked.

The moment the lock engaged, she let out a long breath. Her shoulders dropped. The rigid posture she had held in the study finally relaxed. She walked over to the velvet sofa near the window and sat down heavily. She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. Her head was throbbing.

She needed to sort through the chaotic fragments of memory in her brain. She closed her eyes. The images played like a movie projected on the inside of her eyelids.

She saw the Hendricks family. It was the original owner's family. They lived in a massive stone house in the capital, but the inside was cold and rotting. She saw Eliot Hendricks, the father. He always had a glass of liquor in his hand. His eyes were always red and unfocused. He never looked at his daughter with love.

Then she saw her maternal uncle. Axel Love. He was the one who controlled the family money. The memories showed a dark, wood-paneled room. Axel was shouting about debts and empty bank accounts. He pointed a thick finger at the original Irena. He told her she was going to marry a man named Arthur Vance.

The memory shifted. Irena saw Arthur Vance. He was an old, fat merchant. His skin was sweaty. His eyes moved over the original Irena's body like she was a piece of meat. The memory brought a physical wave of nausea to Irena's stomach. She remembered the rumors. Arthur Vance had beaten his first two wives to death.

She saw the original Irena falling to her knees in front of her father. She felt the cold marble floor against her skin. She heard her own voice begging for help. Eliot Hendricks just took another drink and turned his back.

Despair filled the memory. Total, suffocating despair. The original Irena knew she would die if she married Vance. She needed a shield. She needed someone powerful enough to make the Hendricks family back off.

She chose Evertt Barton.

Irena opened her eyes. She dropped her hands to her lap. The lingering guilt she felt about taking over this body vanished. The original Irena was not a greedy woman trying to steal money. She was a terrified girl trying to survive.

Irena looked out the window at the elaborate water fountain in the courtyard. She felt a deep respect for the girl who used to own this body. "I will live a good life for both of us," she whispered to the empty room.

She stood up and walked over to the small writing desk. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a notebook with gold edges. She picked up a pencil. She needed a plan.

She pressed the pencil to the paper. First, she needed to take the massive divorce settlement and invest it. She needed to build her own businesses. Second, she had to cut all ties with the Hendricks family. They would not get a single penny from her. Third, she needed to stay quiet and invisible in the Barton estate until the two years were over.

She finished writing the last sentence. Suddenly, a loud, frantic knocking hit her bedroom door.

Irena stopped. She put the pencil down. She closed the notebook and shoved it back into the drawer. She took a deep breath, smoothing her facial expression into a blank mask.

She walked to the door and unlocked it. She pulled it open. A young maid in a black and white uniform stood there. The girl was breathing fast. Her eyes were wide with panic.

"Madam," the maid stuttered. "Miss Jada is downstairs in the main hall. She brought her daughter, Peggy. She is making a terrible scene."

Irena searched the memories in her head. Jada Wray. Evertt's cousin. A woman who loved drama and hated Irena.

"What is she doing?" Irena asked. Her voice was calm.

"She is crying to the head butler," the maid said, wringing her hands together. "She is saying that you bullied little Peggy yesterday."

Irena let out a short, cold laugh. Jada was trying to kick her while she was down. Jada thought Irena was still the weak, hated wife who would just take the abuse.

"Show me the way," Irena said. She did not hesitate. Hiding in her room would only make the servants lose respect for her.

Irena stepped out of the room. She walked down the hallway. Her low heels clicked steadily against the polished wood floor. She followed the maid to the top of the grand, sweeping staircase.

She stopped at the landing. She looked down into the massive entrance hall. The sound of a woman crying echoed off the high ceiling.

Irena stood perfectly still. She looked down at Jada Wray, who was putting on a terrible performance. Irena crossed her arms over her chest. She was ready for the fight.

Irena stood on the marble landing of the grand staircase. She looked down at the massive entrance hall. Jada Wray was standing in the center of the room. Jada held a white lace handkerchief pressed against the corner of her eye. She was sobbing loudly, complaining to the stiff-backed head butler.

Watching Jada's fake tears, a different memory forced its way into Irena's mind. It was a memory of a much larger, much more dangerous performance.

It was the night of Eleanor Barton's seventieth birthday gala. The memory was vivid. Irena felt the tight, uncomfortable fabric of an outdated borrowed dress scratching her skin. She remembered hiding behind a large marble pillar in the crowded ballroom. The air smelled of expensive perfume and roasted meat.

She saw Evertt Barton across the room. He was surrounded by politicians and wealthy businessmen. He looked untouchable.

The memory shifted. She saw her own hands shaking as she handed a thick stack of cash to a young waiter. She watched the waiter pour a colorless, potent sedative into a glass of sweet fruit wine. She watched the waiter carry the tray through the crowd. She watched Evertt take the glass and drink it.

Minutes later, Evertt rubbed his temples. His face was pale. Two large security guards escorted him out of the ballroom and up the stairs to a private lounge.

The original Irena had waited in the shadows. She counted the minutes. Then, she slipped past the security cameras. She opened the door to the lounge.

Evertt was sitting on a leather sofa. His eyes were closed. His tie was pulled loose. He was fighting the effects of the chemical.

Irena remembered the physical terror. Her stomach was in knots. She walked toward him. She grabbed the collar of her own dress and ripped the fabric down, exposing her shoulder. She messed up her hair.

Then, the door burst open.

The memory was blinding. Flashbulbs from cameras exploded like lightning in the dark room. A crowd of reporters and socialites pushed into the doorway. Irena screamed and curled into a ball on the sofa.

Evertt's eyes snapped open. The flashbulbs lit up his face. He looked at Irena. His eyes were completely dead. He looked at her like she was a corpse.

That night destroyed the original Irena's reputation. She became the biggest joke in the capital. But the plan worked. Eleanor Barton forced Evertt to marry her to stop the scandal from ruining a massive military contract. Irena got her two-year protection deal.

The memory faded. Irena blinked. Her vision focused back on the present moment. She looked at Jada. Compared to the brutal, life-or-death trap the original Irena had set, Jada's little game with a crying child was pathetic.

Irena started walking down the stairs. Her heels hit the marble steps with a sharp, rhythmic sound. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The sound cut through Jada's fake crying. Jada looked up. When she saw Irena's cold, beautiful face, Jada's eyes widened. A flash of jealousy and panic crossed her features.

Jada quickly reached behind her and pulled a small, six-year-old girl forward. This was Peggy. Jada pointed a finger up at Irena.

"Why did you do it?" Jada yelled. Her voice was shrill and loud. "Why did you break Peggy's favorite doll yesterday? You are a monster!"

The maids and footmen in the hall stopped moving. They stood against the walls, holding their breath. They were waiting to see the hated wife get humiliated again.

Irena reached the bottom of the stairs. She walked straight toward Jada. She did not look at the angry mother. Instead, she bent her knees and crouched down so she was at eye level with the little girl.

"Peggy," Irena said. Her voice was soft but carried a heavy weight. "Where were you yesterday afternoon?"

Peggy bit her bottom lip. Her small hands shook. She looked up at her mother, terrified.

Jada stepped forward and tried to block Irena. "Do not speak to my child! You are scaring her!"

Irena stood up slowly. She smoothed the fabric of her sleeve. She looked Jada directly in the eyes. Her expression was full of mockery.

"I find it very interesting that I broke a doll in the garden yesterday," Irena said clearly, making sure every servant heard her. "Especially since I was lying in my bed with a high fever all day. Dr. Hudson, the family physician, was sitting next to my bed."

Jada's face froze. The color drained from her cheeks. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She had not checked Irena's schedule.

Before Jada could think of a lie, the heavy front doors of the mansion swung open.

A rush of cold wind blew into the hall. Evertt Barton walked in. He wore a heavy wool coat. His presence instantly sucked all the air out of the room. He stopped in his tracks, looking at the scene in front of him.

Evertt stood just inside the massive front doors. He pulled off his heavy wool coat and handed it to the butler without looking at him. His dark eyes scanned the entrance hall. He saw Irena standing tall and relaxed. He saw Jada looking panicked. He saw the little girl hiding behind her mother's legs.

Jada saw Evertt. It was like someone flipped a switch. Tears instantly flooded her eyes. She grabbed Peggy's hand and practically ran across the marble floor toward him.

"Evertt!" Jada cried out. Her voice shook with fake emotion. "Thank God you are home. Irena is out of control. She broke Peggy's favorite doll yesterday, and just now, she was threatening the poor child right in front of me!"

Evertt looked down at Peggy. The little girl's eyes were red. She looked genuinely scared. The hard lines around Evertt's mouth softened for a fraction of a second.

He lifted his head. His gaze locked onto Irena. The softness vanished. His eyes turned into sharp blades. He always assumed the worst about her. It was his default setting.

"Is your frustration with this marriage so deep that you need to take it out on a six-year-old?" Evertt's voice was low, but it carried across the silent hall. It was an accusation, not a question.

The servants standing near the walls exchanged quick, nervous glances. They all thought the young madam was finished.

Irena did not flinch. Her heart rate stayed perfectly steady. She did not cross her arms defensively. She just stood there, looking back at him.

"Yesterday afternoon," Irena said. Her voice was completely flat. It sounded like she was reading a weather report. "From two o'clock until five o'clock, I was unconscious in my bed with an acute fever."

She paused for one second. She let the words hang in the air.

"Dr. Hudson was in my room the entire time. He administered an IV drip. His medical log will confirm this." Irena shifted her gaze to Jada. A cold smile touched the corners of her mouth. "So, Jada, please explain to me how my unconscious body floated out to the garden to break a toy."

The silence in the hall was absolute.

Jada's fake crying stopped instantly. Her face turned chalk white. She took a step back, her high heels scraping against the floor. "I... I must have mixed up the days," Jada stammered. Her hands shook violently. "Or... or one of the maids saw the wrong person."

Evertt was not stupid. He heard the panic in Jada's voice. He saw the physical signs of a liar caught in a trap. The realization hit him like a cold splash of water.

He slowly turned his head to look at Jada. The pressure radiating from his body was terrifying. Jada shrank back, pulling Peggy tighter against her legs.

"This estate is not a stage for your pathetic dramas, Jada," Evertt said. His voice was dangerously quiet. "If you cannot teach your daughter to tell the truth, I have no problem cutting off your monthly family allowance."

Jada gasped. She started shaking from head to toe. "Evertt, please, I am sorry. I was just upset. I lost my mind for a second."

Irena watched the scene for another moment. She felt completely bored. She had no interest in watching Evertt discipline his cousin.

"Take your time," Irena said lightly. She turned her back on both of them. Her heels clicked against the marble as she walked toward the stairs. She did not look back once.

Evertt watched her walk away. The muscles in his jaw tightened. A hot, uncomfortable feeling flared in his chest. He expected her to gloat. He expected her to look at him and demand an apology. Instead, she threw the mess at his feet and walked away like he did not matter at all.

Irena disappeared around the corner of the second floor. The only sound left in the hall was Jada's quiet, terrified sniffling.

Evertt reached up and grabbed the knot of his tie. He yanked it down roughly. He turned to the head butler. "Have security escort Jada and her daughter back to the side wing. They are banned from the main house until I say otherwise."

The servants quickly lowered their heads. They suddenly realized the young madam was not someone to mess with.

Evertt stood alone in the center of the hall. He thought about the look in Irena's eyes. It was cold. It was clear. It was entirely indifferent.

The woman who had drugged him, the woman who had cried and begged to stay in this house, had vanished. This new version of her made him feel something he hated: out of control.

He walked toward his study with heavy, angry steps. He needed to understand what had changed. The woman he thought he knew was suddenly a stranger. Something was wrong.