Della Jones stared at her new face. The flawless visage of Emily Adley, the sole heiress to the Adley family's fortune, radiating an undeniable sartorial elegance.
Della met her eyes in the pier glass, her trembling hands moving to her face, gently caressing her transformed skin. Her fingers trailed down her refined nose, her sculpted cheeks, and her perfectly shaped lips. The plastic surgery had been a resounding success, as the skilled surgeon had worked his magic, meticulously crafting her new appearance
Her face bore an expression of pure delight. She felt a profound sense of happiness as her features now appeared natural and alluring, her lips adorned with a shimmering nude hue, her golden curls mirroring Emily Adley's signature look. Yet, she couldn't help but think that her own captivating face still paled in comparison to the heiress's timeless beauty.
She had long struggled with her appearance, often being dismissed as unattractive and even eliciting fear in the neighborhood children. The cruel moniker "Miss Ugly" had become a painful reminder of the flaws that had once marred her face.
A few years after she lost her father to the ravages of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, her own health took a devastating turn. The constant pain in her chest, the dizziness, the abnormal heart rhythms, and the shortness of breath all confirmed that she too had succumbed to the same debilitating condition. To make matters worse, the doctor also delivered the harrowing news that she faced a high likelihood of developing cancer. She was slowly, but surely, slipping away.
She watched as Emily's personal maid carefully filled the tub with comfortably warm water. Once she was settled into the soothing waters, the attentive maid began to gently lather her body with soap, using a soft washcloth. The maid started at her neck and shoulders, methodically working her way down the full length of the heiress's body.
The occasion was Emily Adley's highly anticipated betrothal party, a celebration of her impending nuptials.
Tears stung Della's eyes, and she began to sob uncontrollably. She hadn't intended to usurp Emily's place; the heiress was the kindest, most compassionate individual she had ever encountered. Emily was truly lovely, and she had graciously offered to let her try on her engagement ring that very evening. It was a ring that she could never have afforded on her own.
"This is one of the most precious treasures in the Hardecker household," Emily had explained, her gaze fixed lovingly upon the ring. "It has been passed down through generations, given to the lady of the house as a symbol of her beloved's unwavering devotion." Emily paused, carefully slipping the ring off her finger. "Here, Della, try it on."
"My dear, you don't seem quite as joyful as one might expect," Mrs. Grace, the head maid, remarked, drawing her back to the present moment.
"It's nothing, Mrs. Grace," she murmured, mustering a faint smile. "I'm simply overjoyed to be marrying the man of my dreams."
Those were all lies - this was not her dream, but rather Emily's. Emily was the one who truly loved the man she was set to marry.
"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Grace said, pausing her ministrations and gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. "I understand how you feel. I too experienced those emotions when I married Pablo. It was the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to me."
The sincerity in the maid's voice and words only served to intensify Della's tears, and she continued to sob, her sorrow robbing her of the ability to speak or even draw a full breath.
She knew she would not be genuinely excited, nor would this marriage be the most joyous event of her life. It was all a deception - she would be living in a fraudulent union, one that she feared would cause her immense anguish.
The Hardecker and Adley families were incredibly persuasive people, and even though Diego had assured her of her safety, she could not help but worry.
Her thoughts drifted back to the heated argument she had with her closest confidante, the one person who had not looked upon her with revulsion.
"You accepted?! Della, this is going to get you into serious trouble. Don't do this - he's a drug dealer, a mafioso, a brutal killer," her friend had pleaded.
" I have to." She'd replied back.
Diego was widely known to be a ruthless drug dealer and mafia boss. He was infamous for his acts of brutal violence, his devilish smirk, and his seemingly charming demeanor - in reality, he was one of the most deranged serial killers.
He was convicted of torturing anyone who messes around with him and not even the police could stop him.
He guaranteed to pay her enough money if she did his biding. "All you have to do is pretend to be Emily and the money for you transplant will be settled." He had told her and she didn't dross, didn't resist Such an offer was too tempting to refuse, when she fraternizes her days on earth were numbered.
"I'm afraid they will know something is different about me and ask a lot of questions."
"Tell them you lost your memories. Their heiress has been gone for five years."
"you can't pretend to be something you're not, you are going to get your self killed, your, i mean Diego is not someone you mess around with." Cara explained.
"I know Cara, but i will do anything, anything feasible to get out of that purposed marriage of mine, anything possible to avoid death." She'd replied back.
"And what about James, Della? That man truly loves you, for goodness sake - your wedding is next week!"
James truly loved her she knew, but that was before she had her hideous scars.
"I think you misunderstand me, Cara," she said, not intending to sound rude, but wanting her best friend to truly comprehend the reasons why she would not be altering her decision.
"I do not want this wedding, Cara. I never asked for it, never requested to be betrothed to someone I do not love, someone who instantly disliked me after I sustained my scars. As much as it pains me to admit, this entire marriage makes me ill. You know James will make my life miserable, and to top it off, his mother loathes me as well. She is only orchestrating this whole affair because no one wants their son to marry someone with a fragile heart, covered in scars, someone deemed 'ugly.' Someone with cancer," she replied, her chest heaving.
She could follow her heart and marry the man she did try to love, but she would never be truly fulfilled. The marriage would be a disaster.
"I need a transplant, Cara. The money is the only way I would know I have a chance at survival before the cancer takes hold. The doctor said I have a high likelihood of developing it, given my father's previous battle with the illness."
Cara folded her arms across her chest, her heart burning with emotion. "Have you considered your mother, Della? How she would react to learn you've made a deal with your_a serial killer? She is already in so much anguish, knowing you may not live much longer."
Tears welled up in her eyes, desperate and unrelenting. Her mother would be devastated if she found out. It was just the two of them, ever since her father passed away from the same illness a few years prior, due to their inability to afford his treatment. And she knows her mother still yearned for his companionship.
The tears continued to stream down her cheeks, but she did not allow herself sob. Diego was dangerous, but he was her only option - no one else would provide the amount she needed for the transplant. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and replied, "She will understand."
"You know this isn't right. If the Hardecker or Adler families find out..."
"I will do my best not to get caught, Cara," she interrupted, seeing the frustration in her friend's eyes.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Della. You're playing a very dangerous game."
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