Chapter 12 - THE TWIN PARADOX
"You are out of your mind," Isabella said, taking a step back.
"They will know!"
"They know every single detail of my face! They know my voice!"
"They know your face, Isabella," Seraphina said, walking over to a large wardrobe.
"But they don't expect you to act like me."
"And they certainly don't expect me to act like you."
Seraphina pulled out two sets of clothes.
One was an ultra-expensive, custom-tailored red silk suit—Isabella's signature style.
The other was a sharp, dark grey corporate suit with minimal accessories—Seraphina's style.
"Think about it," Seraphina said, turning around.
"Victoria thinks you are currently dead or captured by Julian's men."
"Julian thinks we are both on the run."
"If you walk into that boardroom wearing my dark suit, holding my evidence, claiming to be Seraphina..."
"The board will listen to you because they are terrified of me."
"And when I walk in five minutes later as Isabella, claiming that Mother tried to have me murdered..."
"The board will completely collapse."
Isabella stared at the red suit in Seraphina's hands.
The strategy was brilliant.
It was chaotic, utterly unpredictable, and completely lethal to Victoria's control.
"What if I mess up?" Isabella whispered.
"What if I sound like a spoiled brat?"
Seraphina walked up to Isabella and grabbed her shoulders firmly.
"You are a Vance," Seraphina said, looking directly into her identical eyes.
"You were trained from birth to command a room."
"You just need to channel your arrogance into anger."
"And I will channel my anger into your arrogance."
Isabella looked into the mirror on the wall.
She stood side by side with Seraphina.
Without the makeup, without the expensive jewelry, they were truly mirror images.
"Teach me," Isabella said, her voice firming up.
"Teach me how to be you."
For the next five hours, the two sisters engaged in a ruthless transformation.
Seraphina taught Isabella how to lower her voice, how to stand with absolute stillness, and how to glare with cold, unyielding precision.
Isabella taught Seraphina how to walk with exaggerated high-society grace, how to toss her hair with dismissive superiority, and how to fake an expression of delicate victimhood.
By 5:00 AM, the transformation was complete.
Isabella stood in the dark grey suit, her hair tied back tightly, her expression like carved stone.
Seraphina stood in the red silk suit, her hair flowing in soft curls, a look of haughty elegance on her face.
Marcus walked into the room, holding two cups of black coffee.
He stopped in his tracks.
He looked at the woman in red, then at the woman in grey.
His eyes darted back and forth in total confusion.
"Which one..." Marcus stammered, "Which one of you is Seraphina?"
Isabella lowered her chin and looked at him with an icy glare.
"Does it matter, Marcus?" Isabella said in a low, flat tone.
"Or are you going to stand there staring like an idiot?"
Marcus blinked, stunned.
Seraphina laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder with flawless aristocratic arrogance.
"Oh, sweetie, don't mind her," Seraphina sneered in Isabella's exact voice.
"She's just stressed because her little kingdom is about to burn."
Marcus took a slow step backward.
"This is terrifying," Marcus muttered.
"Good," Isabella said, checking her watch.
May you like
"The boardroom opens in two hours."
"Let's go take back our family."
