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Chapter 2 - The Unmasking

A sharp, suffocating silence fell over the grand hall. The attendants holding the security details stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances.

Valeria stepped forward, her composure cracking at the edges. "Rafael, you are acting impulsively. You need to think carefully about what you are doing."

"I have thought about it for three years," Rafael replied, his voice flat, devoid of any room for argument. He turned his gaze toward the guards stationed by the mahogany doors. "Remove the sheet."

Nobody moved.

For the first time all evening, a thick, palpable current of fear rippled through the room. It wasn't the polite curiosity of high society, nor the shock of an unexpected match. It was genuine, cold-sweat terror.

"I said, remove the sheet," Rafael repeated, taking a menacing step forward.

One of the attendants swallowed hard, stepping toward the seventh woman with trembling hands. With a sharp pull, the white silk sheet was whisked away.

Rafael froze as if the past had walked straight into the room breathing.

It was Leila.

She looked thinner, her cheekbones sharper, and the vibrant warmth in her eyes had been replaced by a haunted, defensive exhaustion. But she was undeniably alive. The woman he had mourned, cursed, and loved with a burning fury for thirty-six months was sitting right in front of him.

Valeria let out a sharp gasp, stepping back as if facing a ghost. "This... this is an administrative error. She wasn't supposed to be among the candidates—"

"Silence, Valeria," Rafael commanded, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper.

The rest of the veiled women were quickly ushered out of the room by panicked security, leaving only Rafael, Leila, Valeria, and the heavy ghosts of history.

Rafael walked toward Leila, his light-blue suit jacket rustling in the quiet room. He reached down, his fingers gently brushing against her jawline. Her skin was real. Her pulse hammered frantically beneath her throat.

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"You're dead," Rafael breathed out, the words tasting like ash. "Valeria showed me the grave. She showed me the flight records out of the country."

Leila looked up, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce defiance that set his blood on fire. "I was never dead, Rafael. But I was buried alive."

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