Elisa has been monitored lately and she knows it. She knows her behaviour has been off, I mean she isn't the one who went to the hospital due to a situation she is not even aware of since no one wanted to talk about it. They must be feeling like they were going to open a wound of some sort, and it would be really weird to ask about it, because of the obvious.
SHE IS NOT ASHLEY!
Even though she has been having a good time there, everyone has been walking on their toes and she just couldn't help but feel out of place, and utterly useless.
Her sister was out there unscathed and only God knows what she was to. Squandering her money maybe? Or sleeping with Jake.
Oh Jake and Bella will pay for everything, but how would they when she was stuck in this wheelchair with a broken arm and with no connections whatsoever.
Thinking about the whole event, she wondered why she ended up in this body. Does this body have any connection to her life?
These were unanswered questions in her mind. As she thought hard and long about her move, she remembered that this was a digital world, and judging from the house and all, this family was quite prominent. With the right connections, she could dig up what she needed to know, right?
But the right connections are tied to her other life. Her phone. If only she had her phone. Or her manager, Anderson. Anderson has everything on her phone except personal pictures. Anderson was the key she needed to start her revenge plan.
But how does she even get to him?
Meanwhile, Ashley 's mum, Mrs Davis was on a call with her husband in the garden..
"When are you coming back?"
"I'm not sure. How is our daughter doing?"
Even though they had three daughters, Mrs Davis didn't need anyone to tell her who he was referring to.
"Ashley…", She paused to think, wondering how she was going to say it. "Well she is fine, but I can't help but feel like something is not right. She feels distant than usual, and she seem to have a lot on her mind"
He thought about what she said for a while before responding "it might be that you're overthinking due to stress. Remember that even before this accident she was always like that. You used to complain about her low interactions with you, and when she got married you said the same thing. You said she was more distant" he let out a small chuckle. "And they got this personality from you" He waited for her to say something, but she didn't, so he added "Don't worry okay, our girl is fine and safe. And that's what matters"
Even with the reassurance from her husband, Mrs Davis couldn't shake off that awry feeling.
…..
Later in the day, the low hum of an engine broke the quiet. A sleek black Lamborghini Urus rolled through the gates, its glossy surface catching the dying sun like liquid obsidian. The car came to a smooth stop, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause.
Then the backseat door opened.
Ethan stepped out.
Tall. Composed. Dangerous in the way silence could be. He adjusted the cuff of his charcoal shirt, not sparing a glance at anyone as he took long strides into the mansion.
Elisa was in her room, in front of the mirror doing nothing in particular when he came to meet her.
As she saw him, a proud smile appeared on her face as if saying 'Look at the beauty I got married to'. The smile still remained on her face as she said "You're back"
He gave her a curt nod in response.
When her eyes subconsciously moved to the mirror and she saw the reflection of herself, she quickly frowned, mentally scolding the owner of the body for having such emotions.
Ethan spared her a glance as he asked. "How are you?"
She didn't respond immediately, her eyes sweeping swiftly towards the door as she saw a shadow. They were being watched.
He followed her eyes, but not turning his face completely. Instead, he moved closer and raised his hand to pat her on the head, but she moved her head away, easing a question mark in his face, the first expression he had made except that stoic expression he always wore.
This was not a real marriage. She could tell. Having the feeling that they were still being watched, she moved her head in place and reached touch his hand slightly, her face almost cringing as she said "I missed you"
His phone rang just in time and he took long strides towards the window as he answered the call.
Elisa sat in the wheelchair feeling dispirited. Was that how it was going to be? Stuck in a wheelchair, playing perfect family?! She couldn't think of the next move. She had no one to help her. No one she could trust.
"Good. Send the contact information of her manager"
"No. Anderson Bryns"
Her eyes opened wide. She recognized that name anywhere. He was talking about her manager. She grinned in disbelief. Did the universe hear her out?
As she was lost on her train of thoughts, thinking like a fool, someone snapped a finger across her face and she snapped.
"I'll be taking my leave now" He broke the news to her.
"NO" she shouted without even realising it. Ethan's face had that questioning look again and she went further to explain "I want to go back with you "
Ethan didn't say anything for about a minute before he responded, "Very well then"
….
The drive was very quiet. Ethan didn't spare her a glance as he typed away in his system, while Elisa looked through the wind up glass, thinking about her past life and struggles.
Her eyes tested up and she felt sad. It hurts so much to be betrayed. As they passed by, she saw a billboard carrying stories of her death, and she didn't know when she started wailing, leaving Ethan in utter confusion..
"What's wrong??" He tapped on her shoulder.
"Huh?" She turned, her eyes flooded with tears and her nose running. It was then it dawned on her that she must have been crying out loud. "My… my head hurts"
Ethan's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. The car glided smoothly into a gated estate, the kind where the air itself felt expensive.
When they stopped in front of his house, Elisa's mouth fell open. It wasn't a home—it was a statement. The mansion towered over her like something out of a magazine spread, its walls gleaming ivory beneath soft golden lights. Long glass panels reflected the evening sky, and the massive black iron gates behind them sealed the property like a fortress.
She thought she knew wealth, but standing there made her realize riches had levels—and Ethan Walker was perched comfortably at the very top.
Marble steps led to tall double doors framed by perfectly trimmed hedges. Beyond the doors, she caught glimpses of a grand chandelier spilling warm light over an open, polished foyer. Even the driveway looked expensive, paved in smooth dark stone that could double as a runway.
She swallowed hard. Whatever life she had stepped into, it was bigger than anything she'd ever imagined.
Ethan stepped out first, striding up the marble stairs without so much as a backward glance, forcing her to stay put until she was wheeled by her nurse since her chair wasn't charged. The double doors swung open soundlessly—no creak, no resistance—revealing a foyer that made her feel as though she'd walked straight into a palace.
The floor was pure white marble veined with silver, polished so perfectly she could see her own blurred reflection. Above, the chandelier she had glimpsed outside came fully into view—a sprawling cascade of crystal drops, each one catching the light and scattering it like stars across the room.
To the right, a curved staircase swept upward in an elegant spiral, its black iron railings curling in intricate designs. On the left stretched a living area so large it could easily fit her half her entire apartment inside. Plush cream sofas sat arranged around a low glass table, and a fireplace of pale stone dominated the far wall, its mantel adorned with minimalist sculptures that looked like they belonged in a museum.
Her gaze wandered further. Tall glass walls replaced ordinary windows, revealing a backyard with a shimmering infinity pool that seemed to melt into the skyline. Beyond it, city lights sparkled in the fading dusk.
Everywhere she looked, the air smelled faintly of expensive leather and fresh lilies. Even the silence here was different—thick, insulated, the kind of quiet that came only with money and power.
Ethan didn't pause to admire it; he walked like a man used to such grandeur, his shoes clicking softly on the marble. Elisa followed, feeling out of place, her heart thudding.
Ethan paused at the foot of the stairs. "Since you're injured, it's best you stay in one of the rooms downstairs. I'll have one furnished to your taste"
From the way he spoke, Elisa could tell that no one really argues with this man, but she begged to differ.
"I want to stay upstairs" She says, making sure he'd tone sounded firm. "In my room"
His brows drew together ever so lightly. "You're not in the right shape for that"
"I can be lifted. I'm sure I don't weigh that much" she insisted.
"There is no one for that at the moment"
"Then you can just lift me" She said without thinking, but didn't bother to take back her words.
His jaw worked silently for a moment before he finally stepped forward. Without another word, he bent and lifted her as though she weighed nothing. The sudden closeness stole her breath. She caught the faint, heady scent of his cologne. She stayed awkwardly until she was put down.
---
It was past midnight when Elisa lay wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that made her skin itch. With her nurse's help, she was back in her wheelchair, moving soundlessly through the dim hallway.
She had a plan—get the number from his phone. She knew his number, she just needed to book at it to be reminded.
Her hands wheeled her forward until she stopped outside his door. She pushed it open just enough to see he wasn't there.
Her heart thudded. She slipped inside.
If she was quick, she could find what she needed. She spotted his phone on the dresser, grabbed it, and it was locked.
Elisa bit her lip, scanning the device. Then she noticed them — faint, oily marks streaked across the glass in an almost invisible arc. Her pulse jumped.
Smudges.
She turned the phone in the dim light, angling it until the faint prints caught a glint. The same spots over and over… a pattern. Four digits, maybe six. Her mind raced, tracing the sequence with her eyes, committing the order to memory.
She pressed in the numbers. Wrong.
She exhaled, wiped her damp palms on her thighs, and tried again — reversing the middle two digits. Still wrong.
Elisa didn't know anything about this man to be able to guess it right. She wondered if the number would be any random number or it was of significance, like an anniversary or something
She wanted to try again, but as she was about punching them in, the sound of rushing water stopped in the bathroom.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Heart in her throat, she set the phone down exactly where it had been and backed away from the dresser, forcing her breathing to slow.
Just then, he emerged from the bathroom, a towel hanging low around his hips, steam curling behind him.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"
"I… couldn't sleep," she blurted, gripping the armrest of her chair a little too tightly.
"Elisa," he said slowly, her name heavy in the air—almost like he was about to remind her of something she might not want to be reminded of.
She cut in quickly. "I'm sorry."
Without giving him a chance to respond, she wheeled past him and left, her pulse still pounding in her ears.