Chapter 167: The Stolen Face

"What took you so long?" Gideon asked, standing up from his chair.

He kept his voice smooth, but his pulse hammered against his ribs. The resemblance caught him completely off guard. Every curve of her jaw, the dark eyes, and the slight tilt of her chin matched his sister down to the millimeter.

Near the broken doorway, the head house guard struggled to his feet. He wiped blood from his mouth, squinting at the woman in the silk dress with a deep frown. Something about the way she held her shoulders felt off, but the face belonged entirely to the young mistress.

"I had to fix my hair, brother," the woman replied, her voice ringing out in clear tones.

Lord Morris let out a low grunt, stepping past the long table. "That's enough chatter."

He reached out, his gloved fingers clamping around the woman's forearm. She didn't pull away. She lowered her head, playing the role of a defeated bride with quiet obedience.

"Get to the trucks," Morris commanded, dragging her toward the shattered entrance.

The six armed guards turned on their boots, falling into formation around their master. Heavy combat boots stomped through the foyer, crunching broken glass and wood chips before fading out onto the front driveway.

Engines roared to life in the courtyard. Tires screeched against the wet gravel, the noise quickly trailing down the mountain road until silence settled over the estate.

Gideon dropped back into his chair. He let out a long, ragged breath, the rigid composure draining from his frame all at once.

He didn't turn his head toward the entrance.

"You can come out now, Isabella," Gideon said into the empty room.

Behind the carved wooden screen near the archway, wood scraped lightly against the baseboards.

Isabella stepped into the open dining hall, her fingers still clutching the brass vault key. Her face was pale, her knuckles white as she stared at the empty doorway.

"How did you know I was there?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I saw your shadow cross the runner rug when Morris kicked the door in," Gideon said, rising to his feet.

His exhaustion vanished, replaced by sudden, blistering anger.

"Are you completely out of your mind?" Gideon barked, closing the distance between them. "I gave you the vault key. I told you to lock yourself in the steel room."

"I couldn't just hide while armed men invaded our house," Isabella said, holding her ground.

"If Morris looked behind that screen, both of us would be dead on this floor right now," Gideon snapped. "You don't get to play hero when six rifles are pointed at my chest."

He grabbed her shoulder, turning her toward the grand staircase.

"Go upstairs and pack your bags," Gideon ordered. "You're leaving the country before the sun goes down."

Isabella pulled her shoulder out of his grip. "Who was that woman, Gideon?"

"That doesn't matter," Gideon said, waving his hand toward the stairs. "Move."

"It matters to me!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the high ceiling. "She has my face. She has my voice. She walked in here wearing my clothes, and Morris didn't even notice the difference."

Gideon clamped his jaw shut, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Why did you hire an impostor?" Isabella demanded, stepping closer. "You told me yesterday that we had to honor the contract. You told me the family would fall apart if I didn't marry him."

"I changed my plan," Gideon muttered, staring at the floor tiles.

"You didn't just change your plan," Isabella pressed, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You set this up yesterday afternoon. You hired a body double while I was asleep in bed. What are you hiding from me?"

Gideon let out a harsh, bitter breath, running his hand through his hair.

"The contract was a death sentence," Gideon confessed, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper.

Isabella went still. "What kind of death sentence?"

"The Morris legal team buried an asset clause on page twenty-four," Gideon said, looking straight into her eyes. "You had to deliver a male heir within twelve months. If you failed, they'd hit us with a hundred-million-dollar penalty and send you to prison for fraud."

The breath left Isabella's chest in a sharp gasp.

"They built a legal cage to destroy you," Gideon said, his fists tightening at his sides. "I couldn't let you sign that paper. So I found a professional double through our private security channels yesterday."

"What if Morris figures it out?" Isabella asked, terror creeping into her voice. "He's a ruthless loan shark, Gideon. If he finds out she's a fake, he'll bring his army back here and burn this house down."

"He won't figure it out," Gideon stated. "You spent your whole life locked away in private academies and family estates. High society knows your name, but nobody in the Capital actually knows your habits."

He looked at the empty doorway, his jaw setting hard.

"The agency trained her on your speech patterns, your posture, and your background," Gideon added. "It's her job to survive. She knows the risks, and she took the money."

He pointed toward the stairs again. "Now go pack. A car will take you across the southern border tonight."

\---

Miles away, a convoy of black armored trucks sped down the Capital highway.

Inside the rear cabin of the lead luxury sedan, the hum of the engine filled the quiet space.

The woman in the dark silk dress sat rigid against the leather seat, staring down at her lap. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the fabric over her knees as her shoulders shook with quiet, ragged sobs.

"He traded me like dirt," the woman wept, her voice trembling in perfect imitation of Isabella's pitch. "My own brother threw me to your family just to save his broken warehouses."

Lord Morris sat beside her, resting his arm along the leather cushions. The tension in his face had relaxed, replaced by a smug grin.

"Gideon is a businessman," Morris said, his voice flat. "He knows when to cut his losses."

"I hate him," the woman choked out, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I'll make him regret the day he sold me."

Morris chuckled, reaching out with his thick hand. His fingers brushed across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.

"Don't worry about Gideon anymore," Morris murmured, his tone turning smooth. "You belong to the Morris estate now. As long as you stay obedient and give me what I paid for, you'll live like a queen."

The woman forced a weak, submissive nod, leaning slightly into his touch to play her part.

Suddenly, Morris's fingers stopped moving against her skin.

His thumb hovered over her jawline. His smile vanished.

Morris narrowed his cold eyes, leaning his face inches from hers as he studied the curve of her neck.

"Wait," Morris muttered, his voice dropping into a low, raspy growl.

The woman's breath hitched. Her muscles locked tight beneath the silk fabric, cold sweat breaking out across her spine.

"Why do you feel different today?" Morris asked, staring straight into her eyes.

The woman forced her voice to stay steady, swallowing the dry lump in her throat. "What do you mean, Lord Morris?"