Chapter 91: Stolen Life

Lila’s POV

As soon as I stepped into the almighty mansion where Aria had been living, I inhaled sharply. It was beyond magnificent. Every glistening surface, every polished detail screamed wealth, power, and privilege—things I had been denied my entire life. My fingers itched to touch everything, to claim it as my own.  

But I held back. I couldn't afford to let my excitement slip. I am Ivy now.  

A strong, reassuring hand squeezed my shoulder, and I turned to face the man who had unknowingly brought a viper into his home. "I'm sorry your uncle and I are late. I promise you that monster won’t ever come near you, okay?" Richard, Ivy’s so-called father, whispered before pulling me into a warm embrace.  

I nodded, allowing my body to relax against him. How ironic. He had no idea the real monster was right here in his arms.  

Ivy’s uncle, however, wasn’t as sentimental. He stormed off, his expression grim, disappearing down the hallway. Richard shot him a worried look before turning back to me.  

“Go to your room now, pumpkin. Your uncle and I need to talk,” he instructed before following after him.  

I remained still until they were both out of sight, and then—finally—I let go.  

“Finally!” I whispered, spinning on my heel, arms outstretched as I breathed in the sheer luxury around me.  

I had sworn to take her life, and now, it was mine. The sorceress had been too slow for my liking, always talking in riddles about destiny, darkness merging with something else to bring forth true power. I had no patience for that.  

When she warned me that the charm I had placed in Ivy’s jacket had been tampered with, I knew I had to act. I couldn't afford to wait anymore. So I made my own path. Hence Isabella.  

The sorceress could catch up later. For now, my dream has finally come true.  

I wrapped my arms around myself, reveling in the moment with my eyes closed. A lifetime of yearning, of waiting in the shadows, had led to this.  

A voice shattered my thoughts.  

“Miss Ivy?”  

I spun around sharply, my heart pounding, only to find a maid standing just a few feet away. She looked at me strangely, as if she had caught me in an act.  

I clenched my jaw. "What?" I snapped.  

The maid flinched.  

Stay in character, Lila. Ivy isn’t cruel to the help.  

I inhaled deeply, brushing a strand of hair from my face as I softened my tone. "What is it?"  

She hesitated before answering. “Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Your father expects you to join them. They need to discuss something urgent with you.”  

My stomach twisted. Urgent?  

What could they possibly want to discuss? Did something go wrong? I shook the thoughts off my mind. Nothing could go wrong. 

I need to change first. But how do I find Ivy’s room? How do I ask the maid without appearing suspicious?

I kept my face composed, but the flicker of hesitation must have shown because the maid studied me with concern. “Miss Ivy… are you alright?”  

I forced a small smile. “I just twisted my ankle earlier. Would you mind helping me to my room?”  

The maid nodded quickly, stepping forward to offer her shoulder. I draped my arm over her, pretending to lean on her for support as she led me upstairs.  

Soon, we stopped in front of a grand door, and she opened it for me before turning to leave.  

The moment I stepped inside, my breath caught in my throat.  

This wasn’t just a bedroom. It was a palace within a palace.  

The room was massive—easily three times the size of any space I had ever lived in back in the pack. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the floors covered in plush rugs that cushioned every step. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow that made everything shimmer.  

Then, my eyes landed on the bed.  

It was enormous, draped in silk sheets that looked softer than anything I had ever touched. I couldn't help myself. I launched onto it, my body sinking into its luxurious embrace.  

Giggling, I rolled onto my back, hugging myself as sheer joy bubbled up inside me.  

This was paradise.  

Aria had been living like this all along? While I had assumed she was either dead or suffering, she had been basking in wealth? The unfairness of it all ignited a fresh spark of satisfaction within me.  

No longer.  

I scrambled off the bed and headed toward the walk-in wardrobe.  

The moment I stepped inside, I let out a breathless laugh.  

The space was lined with rows upon rows of dresses, designer shoes, and dazzling jewelry. I ran my fingers over the delicate fabrics, the gold and silver accents glinting under the lights.  

A victorious opera played in my head as I grabbed a handful of necklaces, layering them over my neck as I twirled in front of the mirror.  

I am Ivy now. No—I am more than Ivy. 

I am a queen.  

Just as I was reveling in my victory, a sharp ringing cut through the air.  

I froze.  

Stepping out of the closet, I followed the sound until I spotted a landline phone on the nightstand.  

Cautiously, I picked it up.  

“Dinner is served, Miss Ivy,” the maid’s voice came through urgently before the line went dead.  

I placed the phone down, my pulse thrumming with excitement.  

This is it. This is my life now.  

This is the life I deserve.  

I hurried back to the wardrobe, selecting a simple yet elegant outfit. Slipping into a silk blouse and fitted pants, I examined myself in the mirror.  

I smoothed my hands down my front, tilting my chin slightly.  

Perfect.  

Lifting my lips into the same soft, composed expression Ivy would wear, I turned and exited the room.  

Descending the grand staircase, I managed to find my way into the dining hall.  

My breath caught for a third time that night.  

The table was overflowing with food. Dishes of every variety, steaming and rich with aroma, were laid out like a feast for a kingdom.  

But weren’t there only three of us?  

I masked my surprise and walked over, gracefully taking the seat beside Richard. He passed me a soft smile as I settled in.  

Silence filled the room as we ate, only the sound of cutlery scraping against fine china breaking the quiet.  

Then, Richard cleared his throat.  

“Pumpkin,” he began hesitantly, glancing at the man across from him. The uncle nodded, offering silent support.  

“You know how you were kidnapped weeks ago?”  

I stilled.  

“Yes, Father,” I replied smoothly, my voice carefully measured.  

Richard studied me for a second, something flickering behind his eyes—playful amusement, as if he had caught something but chose not to say it.  

“So, your uncle and I have decided that you should go away for a while,” he continued, his tone turning serious.  

My heart skipped.  

“I mean, it’s the right thing to do given what just happened with Leo Ashton and the fact that your kidnapper is still running free. We need you to go somewhere safe while we sort out this mess.”  

I barely held back my smirk.  

Oh, this just keeps getting better.