Anne-Marie took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the nearly empty room with unease. Despite having been there just a few hours earlier, something about the place felt off, sending a shiver down her spine. In the far corner, she noticed Oliver deep in conversation with another man. Their discussion seemed intense, with animated gestures underscoring the importance of whatever they were discussing.

It had taken all of her willpower to make that call, and now that she was here, doubt crept in like a shadow. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that this was the right thing to do, that it was what she and Abel needed, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered that this was a path she shouldn't be taking. But then, Abel's face flashed before her eyes, and she steeled herself, reminding her that it was for him—and their chance at a better life.

Oliver had assured her it would only be for a few months, just until Paris returned to reclaim her life. He seemed so confident that she was going to wake up eventually so Anne-Marie didn't want to imagine what would happen if she didn't. She puffed her cheeks, letting out a slow, shaky breath as she tried to calm her racing thoughts.

"I'm so sorry we have to meet here like this again, Miss Davis," Oliver's voice cut through her internal struggle, snapping her back to the present. She looked up to see him pulling out a chair across from her, his expression one of measured control.

"We can't risk anyone seeing you right now. I'm sure you know why it's important that no one knows about our agreement."

Anne-Marie nodded, certain that she did.

"And I didn't tell anyone." She assured him. "I only said what you told me to."

He leaned closer, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her squirm. It was as if he was still trying to process how someone could look so much like his daughter. The resemblance was uncanny, and it unsettled them both.

"Thank you so much for reaching out to me, Miss Davis," he began, his tone carefully polite.

"Anne-Marie," she corrected him quickly, her voice soft but firm. "Please, call me Anne-Marie, or just Anne, or Marie."

Oliver nodded, understanding that she didn't want the formality to create more awkwardness than there already was.
"Although I must admit, I was expecting your call a bit earlier," he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My offer isn't exactly one to be taken lightly."

"I needed time to think, to make sure I was making the right decision," Anne-Marie replied, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. "But I'm here now, and I'm ready."

Oliver exhaled, signaling for one of the men nearby to bring a file over. The man placed it on the table, and Oliver opened it, glancing through the contents before sliding it toward Anne-Marie.

"According to your records, you were born on the twenty-first of September—the day of the lunar eclipse, on the same day my daughter was born, at exactly the same time too."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air, as if he were still grappling with the eerie coincidence. Anne-Marie shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the weight of his gaze.

"We should go over the terms of the agreement again," she said, her voice more resolute now.
"I need to know exactly what's going to happen after I've done my part. I need your assurance that nothing would happen to me or my brother—that we'll be safe. And I need you to promise that you'll keep your word about getting Abel the treatment he needs and providing us with a place to stay."

Oliver leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he nodded.

"I'm a man of my word, Anne-Marie. I've never made a promise I didn't keep. The agreed Hospital is ready to start your brother's treatment as soon as we commence our agreement. We've also secured a furnished home for him near the hospital, complete with staff to attend to his needs and a steady supply of everything he could want, when he gets discharged of course."

Anne-Marie's heart raced as he spoke, the words both reassuring and terrifying at the same time.

"A deposit of four hundred thousand has already been transferred to the account detail you have provided," Oliver continued,
"and you'll receive an additional hundred thousand every month until the contract ends. At the end of our agreement, arrangements will be made for you and your brother to leave Breton, unharmed and unscathed."

Anne-Marie frowned, her stomach twisting in knots.
"Leave Breton?" she echoed, her voice trembling slightly. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"It is now," Oliver replied, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "What we're about to do Miss Davis, is one of the highest of all treasons. We can't afford any loose ends. Where there's suspicion, there's investigation, and where there's investigation, the truth would prevail, especially when the Royal family is concerned."

Anne-Marie swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to process the full implications of what he was saying.

"Where would you send us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Anywhere you want," Oliver said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Somewhere you can start a new life. There's nothing left for you here anyway, is there? This is the best offer you'll ever get, Miss Davis."

He slid the file closer to her, his gaze never leaving her face.

"Sign this if you agree to the terms."

Anne-Marie bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes flicked between Oliver and the intimidating man standing behind him, both of them watching her with expectant eyes. She looked down at the file, her gaze locking on the blank line that awaited her signature.

Just do it, Anne-Marie. For Abel.

The voice in her head urged her forward, reminding her of what was at stake. With trembling hands, she picked up the pen and scrawled her signature on the line, the weight of her decision settling heavily on her shoulders. She pushed the file back to Oliver, her heart pounding in her chest.

"When do I start?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of resolve and fear.

Oliver's lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as the man behind him leaned in to verify her signature.

"Right away," he replied. "But first, we need to make a few adjustments—your hair and eyes, of course."

Anne-Marie nodded, her heart sinking even further. She knew this was coming, but hearing it made everything feel all the more real. If she was going to become Paris Vurton, she would have to look the part.

"This is Ramsey," Oliver said, gesturing to the scarred man who had been standing silently beside him. "He'll help you settle in and oversee the changes."

Anne-Marie glanced at Ramsey, who nodded stiffly. His presence was imposing, and the coldness in his eyes sent another shiver down her spine.

"Can I stop by my friend's house first?" Anne-Marie asked, her voice small and uncertain. "That's where all our things are. I just need to grab a few personal items."

"Are they things Paris would own?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um... not exactly," she admitted, her voice trailing off.

"Then you don't need them," he stated flatly, leaning forward as he locked eyes with her. "You do realize how serious this is, don't you, Anne-Marie? We can't afford any mistakes. You can't say a word about this to anyone, and you certainly can't be seen with anything that might raise suspicion."

Anne-Marie exhaled shakily, her mind spinning. She was about to step into a world where she didn't belong—a world where one wrong move could mean disaster.

"Everything you need has already been provided at the house," Oliver continued, his tone softening slightly. "If there's anything else, Ramsey here will take care of it."

Anne-Marie glanced up at Ramsey again, his scarred face expressionless as he stared back at her. She swallowed hard, realizing there was no turning back now. She had signed away her old life, and what lay ahead was as terrifying as it was uncertain.

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. It was time for the transformation to begin—time to become Paris Vurton.

For Abel.

The thought echoed in her mind, strengthening her resolve as she prepared to step into the unknown.