Love In Disguise: Rebirth of the Heiress
Chapter 91

Chapter 91: Chapter 91

Kiara’s POV

Work was unusually quiet, except for the faint tapping of fingers against keyboards and the low hum of conversation in the background. I leaned back in my chair, my phone nestled in my hand as I fired off another text.

Me: I forgot to tell you about Lola.

Lucian’s response was almost immediate.

Lucian: Dead Lola?

I frowned. His bluntness was grating, but I couldn’t deny the accuracy.

Me: Yes, dead Lola. There’s something weird about her situation.

Lucian: Define weird.

I hesitated, glancing around the office. No one was paying me any attention. Safe.

Me: She experienced things I did in my past life. The nudes. The manager pouring drinks on her back. All of it.

I watched the little dots blink on the screen as Lucian typed.

Lucian: Coincidence.

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to throw my phone. Coincidence? I wasn’t buying that.

Me: Don’t give me that crap. There’s no way it’s just coincidence. Why would someone else live through my past?

Lucian: Time is tricky.

Me: Stop being cryptic, damn it. Explain.

The dots blinked, stopped, and then blinked again. I was seconds away from calling him when another text came through.

Lucian: If it bothers you so much, why not ask me directly?

I groaned, stabbing at the call button. Lucian picked up on the second ring.

"Kiara," he said, his voice smooth and unbothered, as if I hadn’t just been ranting through text.

"Why did Lola experience what I did?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries. "You said time is tricky, but what does that even mean? Stop dodging."

Lucian chuckled softly, and I could almost see his infuriating smirk. "Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it?"

"Not when I’m being haunted by someone else’s trauma that used to be mine!"

"You’re not haunted," he said. "Time is... repetitive, in a sense. Patterns emerge, people repeat the mistakes of others, and the universe finds it amusing to recycle misfortunes."

"That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" Lucian countered. "Think about it. In your past life, you were manipulated, betrayed, and left to suffer. Lola walked a similar path. Different players, same game."

"That doesn’t explain why it’s so... specific."

He paused, his voice quieter when he spoke again. "The closer you get to unlocking the truth, the more the past bleeds into the present."

"Unlocking the truth?" I echoed, leaning forward in my chair. "What truth?"

"That, my dear, is for you to figure out."

I groaned. "You’re infuriating, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are, calling me."

Before I could respond, the line went silent, and I realized he’d hung up. "Damn it, Lucian," I muttered, throwing my phone onto the desk.

I sat there, my mind racing. Patterns? The past bleeding into the present? None of it made sense. Was Lola just collateral damage in some cosmic joke?

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice someone approaching until a voice cut through the haze.

"Um... Kiara."

I looked up, startled, my heart skipping a beat.

I turned to face the door.

"Um... Lucian, I’ll call you back."

Before he could protest, I hung up the call and forced a smile. "Anaya... hi."

Anaya stood in the doorway, clutching a small folder to her chest. She had a delicate presence, her almond-shaped eyes always carrying a hint of shyness. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she wore a tailored navy dress that screamed professionalism. If you didn’t know her, you’d think she was all business—but Anaya had a softness to her that made her easy to talk to.

"Kiara," she said with a tentative smile. "I just wanted to say thank you."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Her cheeks flushed. "For recommending me for the senior position. I just got the news, and I—" She paused, blinking rapidly. "I really appreciate it."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Don’t thank me. You’ve worked hard for it. You deserve the promotion."

Anaya was someone I’d quietly admired for years. We weren’t exactly friends, but we’d worked together enough times to build mutual respect. She was one of the few people who didn’t buy into office politics or gossip. She came in, did her work exceptionally well, and left.

If I had to describe her, she was the type who always stayed under the radar but had the skill and discipline to outperform anyone when it mattered. I’d seen her get passed over for opportunities before, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again, especially when I was in a position to help now.

"Still, it means a lot. I didn’t think anyone noticed," she said softly, her voice breaking me out of my thoughts.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "I notice more than you think, Anaya. Sit down."

She hesitated but eventually took the seat across from me, setting her folder on the desk.

"By the way," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully, "I remember a while ago you used to complain about gastritis. How’s that going?"

Her face froze for a split second before she forced a small smile. "Oh... that. It’s better now. Thanks for asking."

I frowned. Something in her tone didn’t sit right. "Really? You seemed pretty miserable back then."

Anaya’s hands tightened around the folder. "Yeah. It was... a rough time."

I tilted my head, not buying it. "Rough how?"

She bit her lip, her eyes darting toward the door as if considering an escape. "It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have brought it up."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "Anaya, you’re a terrible liar. Spill it."

Her shoulders slumped as she sighed, her voice trembling. "It’s just... I started experiencing symptoms again a few months ago. I thought it was just stress, but I went to the doctor."

I stayed quiet, letting her gather her thoughts.

"They diagnosed me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "With stomach cancer."

My heart sank. Anaya wasn’t just a co-worker; she’d become one of the few people in the office I trusted. Unlike the others, she never tried to compete or play mind games. She simply did her job with quiet grace.

"Anaya..."

She wiped at her eyes quickly, trying to maintain composure. "It’s early stage," she added hastily. "They say it’s treatable. I just—I didn’t know how to tell anyone. That’s why I am happy this promotion came at such a great time. The money would be good enough."

I leaned back, my chest tightening. Memories of my past life flashed in my mind. The endless doctor visits. The pain. Gabriel’s indifference.

"Does anyone at work know?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Just my immediate family. I don’t want to be treated differently."

I nodded slowly. "Understandable...but um, if you need any advice. Feel free to ask me."

She chuckled, "How can you help? Have you experienced stomach cancer before?"

I laughed. I wished I could talk about the amount of times it had bothered me.

It’s crazy. But I just smiled, "I studied about it. Did a project on it a while back."