The clock was our cruel master, because we had only two days remaining until the White Wedding, and in that impossibly short time, I had to completely erase Sienna Dale and replace her with the meticulous chaos of Sophia, which felt like trying to empty an ocean with a thimble. After the Richards and my father left, my mother immediately handed me over to Amelia, transforming my gentle maid into a stern, unforgiving drill sergeant, a necessary change that broke my heart a little more, yet I knew Amelia was doing this for my protection. My room became a war zone of fashion, makeup, and mannerisms, and there was no time for tears, no space for the quiet grief of losing myself, because every minute was dedicated to rehearsing the role that would save my family's contracts, and hopefully, my own fragile future.
"No, Sienna, you are too soft, too thoughtful; Sophia never thinks before she speaks, she simply reacts with the most outrageous thing that comes to mind, so try it again, and channel that reckless disregard that infuriates your mother," Amelia instructed me, her voice firm, as she forced me to walk across the room in Sophia's highest, most impractical stilettos. I stumbled, nearly twisting my ankle, but Amelia didn't let me stop, only urging me on, telling me that pain was irrelevant when the entire Dale empire was at stake, which was a bitter pill to swallow. I practiced Sophia's signature walk, a confident, hip-swaying strut that demanded attention, a stark contrast to my own quiet, shoulder-crunched manner of moving, because I had spent my entire life trying to be invisible, and now I had to become the very opposite.
The physical transformation was the easiest part of the process, because Amelia, with the help of a nervous fashion consultant, transformed my simple, elegant wardrobe into a riot of expensive, bold colors and daring silhouettes that Sophia favored, all skin-tight dresses and jewelry that was too large, too loud, too much. They styled my straight black hair into the wild, cascading waves Sophia often wore, spending hours with curling irons and expensive products, and Amelia meticulously applied Sophia's signature makeup, a dramatic smoky eye and a harsh, unforgiving red lipstick that made my own face look unrecognizable in the mirror. "You must not wear soft colors, Sienna, you must wear bright red or harsh black, because Sophia is never subtle, she is a vibrant disruption, and Adrian expects a woman who enters a room like an explosion, not a whisper," Amelia reminded me, emphasizing the non-verbal cues that were just as important as the dialogue.
The real difficulty, the mental struggle that left me exhausted, was the behavioral training, because Amelia made me watch hours of video footage of Sophia at parties and social events, forcing me to mimic her chaotic energy and her quick, cutting wit, which required me to discard my empathy and embrace a veneer of careless cruelty. Sophia had a distinct, high-pitched laugh that usually grated on my nerves, but now I had to practice it until it sounded natural, a sharp, dismissive sound that conveyed amusement and disdain in equal measure, and I had to learn her favorite phrases, the subtle ways she insulted people while pretending to compliment them. We spent an entire afternoon rehearsing my phone habits, because Sophia was constantly scrolling, constantly taking selfies, and constantly checking her designer bags, never allowing for a moment of silence or genuine presence, which was the opposite of my quiet, thoughtful nature, and I felt like an actor rehearsing a role I despised, preparing to take the stage in a tragedy.
Amelia even brought in a social etiquette tutor, who, unaware of the deception, only found me slightly quieter than expected, but Amelia pushed me beyond etiquette, forcing me to memorize every detail of Sophia's recent life: the names of her latest short-lived boyfriends, the extravagant gifts she had received, the specific details of the European trip she had taken with friends a month ago, the trip that was meant to explain her current absence from social circles. "You must know everything she knows, Sienna, because Adrian Richard will test you, and if you hesitate, if you stumble over a detail, he will see the lie, and he will understand you are not the reckless, airheaded woman he thinks he married," Amelia warned me, her eyes clouded with concern, which gave me the strength to push through the exhaustion and the mounting anxiety.
One evening, exhausted and overwhelmed, I nearly broke down, dropping the large, heavy clutch Sophia preferred, and the movement was too fast, too clumsy, not the elegant, dismissive way Sophia would have done it. "I can't do this, Amelia, I can't be her, because every time I look in the mirror, I see a stranger, and every word I speak is a lie, and if Adrian touches me, I will shatter, and he will know the truth," I choked out, running my hands through my freshly curled hair, wanting to tear the disguise right off my body, yet Amelia simply knelt before me, forcing me to look into her gentle, resolute eyes.
"Listen to me, my sweet girl, the stranger you see in the mirror, that woman is not Sienna, she is merely a shield, a beautiful, impenetrable armor that will protect the real you," Amelia whispered, her voice a comforting balm against my panic. "You are not becoming Sophia, you are acting as Sophia, and you must see this mansion, and Adrian Richard, as the biggest stage of your life, a place where you are safe from your mother, so you must focus on the prize: freedom." She reminded me that this temporary role was my only ticket out of my current prison, a difficult, terrifying path to a future where I could finally reclaim my life and my jewelry business, and that motivation, the desperate need for escape, was the only thing that kept me standing.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the woman in the mirror, the woman with the harsh red lips and the arrogant tilt to her chin, and I forced myself to see the impersonator, the soldier who would endure the mission, but I vowed that I would never lose the quiet heart of Sienna, which I kept locked away beneath the expensive layers. I practiced my most reckless smile, the one that showed too much teeth and promised too much trouble, because I knew the performance was almost ready, and the stage was set for the biggest lie of my life. I was ready to walk down that aisle, not as a bride, but as a temporary occupant of the warm seat, preparing to face the billionaire who already suspected I was a fraud.
The transformation is complete! Sienna has the look and the attitude of Sophia, though her fear and resolve are at an all-time high.