Chapter Two
"Is this a punishment or a blessing in disguise?" Rachel said, her voice shaking with fascination and disbelief. She stood before the enormous gilt mirror, her fingers brushing over the smooth, perfect skin of her altered face.
The mirror reflected a face she had only seen on magazine covers and in gossip columns: Raven Craslow, the most famously beautiful and scandalous supermodel in the country.
Rachel tilted her head, tracing the high cheekbones, the beautifully arched brows, and the alluring eyes framed by impossibly long eyelashes. The deep crimson lips curled in an involuntary smile. "My God," she murmured, shaking her head from side to side, "this body…it's just stunning."
Her fingers traced the soft curve of her neck, and the silk robe slipped off one shoulder as she turned to examine herself further in the mirror. She admired the slim, athletic body she now inhabited. But wonder gave way to reality. This was not her body; this was not her life.
Before she could spiral into the gravity of her situation, a sharp sound pierced the air, startling her. A cell phone. She quickly searched the room, her heart racing. The sound grew louder with its muffled vibrations. She traced it to the plush king-sized bed and retrieved the device from under a pillow. The sleek design and diamond-studded case screamed luxury.
The screen showed the caller's name: Clarissa. Her thumb and finger hovered over the answer button. She hesitated, then pressed it, bringing the phone to her ear.
"Raven? Oh, thank God!" A panicked female voice burst through the line. "Are you alright? My goodness, Raven! Your death news has been all over the media! Why haven't you called? Didn't you check the news?"
Rachel froze, her mind reeling. News of her death? Impossible. Or was it? She cleared her throat, attempting to mimic the smooth, confident tone she imagined Raven would have. "I'll handle it," she said curtly, cutting the caller off.
"Wait—" Clarissa began, but Rachel ended the call, tossing the phone onto the bed.
She turned back to the mirror, gripping the edges of the vanity table until her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back, mocking her confusion. Her chest heaved as she fought to calm her racing heart. "This is my life now," she whispered, her voice steadying. "I may not have chosen it, but it's mine. And I'll make it count."
A faint laugh slipped from her lips, then it escalated into a rebellious snicker. This had given her a fresh burst of energy. The remote lay on the bedside table. She picked it up and pressed the button to turn on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from her bed.
The screen flickered to life with a breaking news banner: Raven Craslow—Death Shocks the Nation. The screen filled with a montage of glamorous images, each capturing the supermodel's timeless beauty and her opulent way of living.
Rachel slumped onto the bed, her gaze glued to the screen. The news anchor's voice droned on, detailing Raven's supposed death—drowned in a tragic yacht accident, the media claimed. But what stung the most was the stark realization that her previous life as Rachel, the discarded wife of Lucas, had barely caused a ripple.
Her chest tightened, the pain of her past life intertwining with the bitter irony of her new one. Even in death, Raven was revered, her name immortalized in headlines. Meanwhile, Rachel had been buried and forgotten, a footnote in Lucas's wretched story.
Her fingers clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Not anymore," she whispered, her voice resolute. "This time, I call the shots. This time, I'll turn the tables."
She pushed herself off the bed, striding to the wardrobe. Throwing open the doors, she was greeted by rows of designer dresses, neatly arranged in a spectrum of colors, their fabrics shimmering under the warm light. At the bottom, a sleek laptop sat on a shelf.
Pulling it out, she took a seat on a nearby chair and opened the device. The screen lit up, displaying a stunning background image of Raven on an exotic beach. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she searched for "Raven Craslow."
The results were overwhelming: articles, interviews, paparazzi photos. Piece by piece, Rachel reconstructed the life of the woman whose skin she now inhabited. Raven's scandals, her relationships, her fights with other stars-everything was there.
Rachel reclined in the chair, her head spinning with possibilities. If this was her life now, she had to take charge of it, master it. It wasn't just a second chance; it was a chance to reinvent her story completely.
Rising up from the chair, she took a stunning crimson dress off its hanger in the wardrobe and its silk fabric brushed against her skin as she slipped it on. The dress figure-hugged her with its deep neckline plunging daringly. She paired it with gold heels that clicked against the polished wooden floor.
Rachel retrieved the phone from the bed, scrolling through the contacts until she found one labeled Manager. She typed a quick message: I'm coming to the agency. Be ready.
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The world sparkled in the afternoon sun. A black luxury car parked in front of a tall glass edifice whose surface reflected the blue sky without a cloud. The driver exited and opened the door with a polite nod.
With grace, Rachel ascended the marble steps, her red heels clicking with each step. She put on her sunglasses, the sunlight reflecting off the gold frames as she looked around. Her confidence radiated, drawing the attention of those passing by.
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Now this," she murmured under her breath, "is my life. And I'll play it my way."
As she stepped through the agency's grand entrance, the air inside buzzed with whispers. Heads turned, eyes wide with disbelief. No one dared approach her, the sheer audacity of her presence rendering them speechless.
Rachel strode forward, her heels striking the marble floor with purpose. She reached the boardroom doors, pausing for a moment before pushing them open with a dramatic flair.
"Missed me, lovelies?" she announced, her voice light and teasing.
The room fell silent, yet a wave of shock and awe reflected on the faces present. Rachel's smile widened into a smirk as she leaned casually against the door frame, letting their astonished expressions sink in.
A new fire burned within her. This was her time— a chance to take control and live life on her terms. She wasn't going to let anyone stand in her way.