Chapter 8: A SECRET??
As dawn broke over the bustling Summer City, Aurora stirred in her room, her thoughts heavy with the task ahead. Her goal: to attend the prestigious auction at Tranquil City. Yet, preparation was paramount. Standing before the mirror, she examined her reflection critically. Aurora's reflection stared back at her—a frail, plump figure with rounded cheeks and a softness that seemed more vulnerable than resilient.
Luna, now inhabiting this body, couldn't suppress a sigh of exasperation. How did Aurora manage to carry herself like this? she thought.
The weight was a result of years of stress eating, an attempt to cope with the pain of abandonment when her mother left to marry into a wealthy family. A bitter smile played on Luna's lips. "She should have loved herself more," she murmured, her voice carrying both anger and sympathy. "Instead of sulking in corners and drowning in self-pity, Aurora should have fought back. But I suppose... she didn't know how."
Luna traced her fingers along her jawline, feeling the soft edges that contrasted so sharply with her original body's sharp and commanding presence. The thought made her jaw tighten. She pitied the original Aurora, but her choices had left a bitter legacy. "Still," Luna whispered, shaking her head, "weakness isn't a sin, but staying weak is. That's where she failed."
Snapping out of her thoughts, Luna focused on the task at hand. It was time to transform this body, and face that no one recognize. With practiced hands, she began applying makeup, her strokes deliberate and precise. A soft brush created contours along her cheeks and jaw, giving the illusion of a sharper, more defined face. The gentle curves of her face were subtly transformed into angles that demanded attention.
Her thick, chestnut hair was the next target. She styled it into loose waves, letting it frame her face in a way that drew attention to her now-enhanced features. Luna stepped back to assess her work, tilting her head as a faint smirk tugged at her lips.
"Not bad," she whispered, her voice tinged with irony. "For a body this... soft." Her eyes, however, betrayed something deeper—a mix of determination and regret. Her gaze lingered on her reflection. "Aurora," she said softly, "you had a good voice and such charming eyes. If only you had carried yourself with more pride, maybe the world wouldn't have treated you as weak."
For a fleeting moment, a wave of sympathy coursed through her again. Aurora had been dealt a cruel hand—abandoned by her mother, belittled by her family, and ultimately broken by betrayal. Luna could understand her pain, even if she couldn't excuse her failure to rise above it.
Taking a deep breath, Luna turned away from the mirror after completing her makeover; she slipped into a sleek black dress that hugged her fuller figure in just the right places, exuding sophistication without revealing too much. She knew this look was vital and no one could recognize her.
Unbeknownst to Luna, the world buzzed with whispers of Dr. Elena, the legendary Godly Doctor, attending the prestigious auction. It had been two years since the renowned healer disappeared, her name etched in history for saving lives from the brink of death. Dr. Elena's abrupt withdrawal from the public eye had left many speculating, but only Luna knew the truth—her retreat had been a calculated move to track down the culprit behind her master's tragic demise.
This identity, a closely guarded secret shared only with her late master, had been buried along with her past. Yet now, the mere hint of her return had sent ripples through powerful circles, drawing countless eyes to Tranquil City. Among the most desperate was Alexander, who had spent a year searching for the elusive doctor to save his gravely ill mother. Little did he know, the savior he sought was already in the crowd, whom he mercilessly tossed in the roadside that night.
In a skyscraper in Summer City at the top floor in the CEO office a soft knock echoed through the office. "Sir, Dr. Elena is confirmed to attend today's high-profile auction in Tranquil City," Derek, Alexander's assistant, announced.
Alexander's gaze sharpened. "Prepare the chopper," he ordered without hesitation. "I must meet her today."
At the same time somewhere in the world, amidst the chaos of gunfire and the metallic tang of blood hanging heavy in the air, a phone buzzed sharply. The man answered, his piercing gaze darkening as the voice on the other end relayed its message. A rare flicker of surprise crossed his face before his lips curled into a cold, calculating smile.
"Prepare the jet," he commanded, his voice smooth yet ominously melodic, like a predator toying with its prey. "I'll be in Tranquil City within six hours."
After makeup Aurora booked a cab and went to the place where auction was held. At the entrance, she handed over her invitation and was swiftly escorted to her private VIP booth. This exclusive seat came with privileges: a soundproofed space, snacks and drinks at her disposal, and, most importantly, anonymity. As the door closed behind her, Luna allowed herself a moment to observe the crowd below.
From her elevated perch, her sharp gaze scanned the room, lingering briefly on some familiar faces. Her lips curled into a smirk as she spotted her so-called sister, Veronica, and her ex-husband, Alexander, entering hand in hand. Alexander's tall, imposing frame and cold demeanor were a stark contrast to Veronica's soft, pitiful act. Luna's eyes narrowed. What are those two snakes doing here? She wondered, her calculating mind immediately piecing together possibilities. They're not smart enough to pursue rare herbs. Perhaps they're here for another scheme.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her booth door. A soft voice spoke, "Ma'am, the auction will begin shortly. Is there anything you require?"
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice calm but firm. The attendant left, and Luna turned her attention back to the stage.
Luna leaned back in her plush chair, her sharp eyes glinting as the event began. The first few items were of little interest to her -paintings, jewelry and artifacts that only the nouveau riche would bid on. She tapped her fingers on the armrest, waiting patiently for the main attraction.