The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Mirabella meticulously wiped her computer clean of any traces, then stood up and strolled over to the printer. She neatly folded the documents that had been printed out and slid them into her coat pocket without a second thought.

After settling the bill, she swiftly exited the print shop.

The early winter dusk had settled in sooner than expected. She had left her home under a bright sky, but now, as she stepped out of the print shop, the outside world was considerably darker, and the streetlamps of the neighborhood were casting their glow.

In the hazy light, Mirabella’s figure was swathed in a sleek black trench coat, her slender legs moving with a graceful, leisurely stride along the sidewalk, hands tucked into her pockets, exuding a casual yet striking charm.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and, fishing it out, she saw it was James calling. She answered promptly.

“Busy?” came James‘ crisp voice.

Mirabella glanced ahead to where the neighborhood’s gate was in sight and replied, “Not particularly.” This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

James was leaning against the railing on the balcony of his two–storied villa, his gaze stretching into the distance, his chiseled features softened by gentle warmth. “I just dropped you a message. You didn’t respond, so I thought you might be tied up with something.”

At his words, Mirabella pulled the phone away from her ear to check the screen, and sure enough, there was an unread message from two minutes ago. She opened it, briefly scanned the contents, and after a moment’s pause, she responded, “Had my phone in my pocket, didn’t notice it.”

The sound of a car hom filtered through from the street, audible over the phone.

“You’re out and about?” James asked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

“Yeah, just taking a walk around the block,” Mirabella said truthfully, her voice light. After a brief pause, she inquired, “Did you need me for something?”

James‘ voice came back, casually nonchalant as he leaned on the balcony. “Knox’s birthday dinner is tomorrow. He’s asked you to join.” Upon hearing this, Mirabella’s gaze sharpened slightly. Knox had sent his grandson to deliver an invitation, and now James was extending it personally–she couldn’t very well refuse.

After a moment of contemplation, she answered, “Alright, I’ll be there.”

James could detect a hint of reluctance in her tone, and raising an eyebrow in amusement, he offered, “Don’t worry about a gift. I’ll sort something out on your behalf.”

Mirabella fell silent at that, her pride smarting a little at the implication. Still, she responded with genuine appreciation, “Thanks, James.

You’re too kind.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then James said, “I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow.”

As Mirabella stepped into the neighborhood, her pace quickened. “Isn’t that a bit out of your way?”

“Not at all,” James‘ voice was steady as he glanced down at the garden beneath his balcony, adding, “It’s on the way.”

Mirabella chuckled at that–Parkside High School was in the complete opposite direction from Mendoza Estate. “Well, then, I won’t argue. Thanks.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said.

“Sure thing,” Mirabella replied, ready to end the call when James added, “Head home early. It’s not safe for a young lady to be out alone.” Mirabella pulled her coat around her, her gaze deepening. Her delicate appearance seemed to invite such protective warnings. It was a bit tiresome, really.

After hanging up, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and continued towards home at an unhurried pace.

But after a short distance, Mirabella’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of intrigue crossing her fine features, and she slowed her step ever so slightly.

Was someone following her?