03~ Two Faces, Two Lives

His face was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath, and the rough richness of his voice only heightened the frantic beating of my heart. I straightened up, trying to keep my composure. His eyes followed the movement, dark and unblinking as he stood over me, casting a shadow that felt heavier with every second. He cocked an eyebrow, silently urging me to respond to his question.

Was I hiding something? Why would he think that? Or was this just his style—breaking the ice with unsettling questions?

His lips curled into an amused smirk as he nodded, entertained by my silence. His gaze lazily traveled down my body, then back up to meet my eyes again. I knew what he was thinking—*I must look ridiculous in this outfit.*

If he was expecting some bombshell with killer curves, he was in for a disappointment. I wasn’t here to impress him, and yet, my entire body buzzed with self-consciousness under his stare.

I glanced around the room, searching for Mrs. Mills, but she was gone. *Perfect timing*, I thought bitterly. She was supposed to be my escape, my out. Now, I was stuck.

My gaze dropped to the half-finished glass of wine in front of me, desperate to avoid his eyes. “You know, you can look at me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I don’t bite.”

I nearly choked on my drink. His accent, thick and British, wrapped around each word like velvet. How had I not noticed it before? My nerves were already frayed, and now I felt like I was going to melt right into the floor.

“What’s your name?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if he hadn’t been staring at me the whole time.

“Camila,” I blurted out, regretting it immediately.

His smirk deepened, and I knew exactly what he was thinking—Camila, like the singer. Great.

“I mean… not that Camila,” I rambled, gesturing wildly with my hands. “Just… Camila. No ‘Cabello.’ Just plain old me.”

His chuckle was low and deep, and I felt my face burn hotter. “That’s the most I’ve heard you talk, Camila,” he said, biting his lip with a teasing smile. “I’m Luciano.”

“Hi, Luci,” I squeaked, my voice an embarrassing octave higher than usual. I could feel the tension tightening in my chest. His presence was suffocating, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this up.

“You seem nervous,” he noted, his voice smooth and almost playful.

Nervous? I thought bitterly. Of course, I’m nervous. You’re practically suffocating me with your presence.

****

That night turned out to be a complete disaster. Sure, Mrs. Mills might be thrilled with the club’s success, but for me? It was a nightmare. First, being stuck in an uncomfortable conversation with a billionaire—who just so happens to be my mom’s boss? What were the odds?

I never thought living a double life would feel like this—juggling two identities, two versions of myself. But the fantasy of it doesn’t compare to reality. Camila and Delilah. Two names, two lives, both demanding everything from me. They’ve made me strong, yes, but also divided—caught between the person I’m supposed to be and the person I’ve become.

My parents don’t know half of it. My mom’s Mr. Kimber’s personal assistant, and my dad’s a well-known doctor. They’re hardly ever around, and I don’t blame them. They’re working hard to keep our family afloat. But I’m not a kid anymore—I’m twenty-three. And for once, I’m becoming someone without them.

In just a few hours, I can flip from sweet Delilah to seductive Camila, like flipping a coin. One moment, I’m blending into the shadows, and the next, I’m commanding the room. It’s thrilling, yes, but exhausting.

I sipped from the small black cup in my hand, the liquid warming my throat as I thought back on my night with Luciano. I couldn’t shake the way he looked at me. Why would someone like him be so interested in me? Was it just curiosity? Or something else?

Lost in thought, I didn’t realize my mom was standing in the doorway, watching me.

“Is everything alright?” she asked softly.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I lied.

“You don’t look fine,” she said, walking closer. Her eyes were filled with concern as she sat down on the edge of my bed, slipping her hand into mine. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here for you, you know.”

I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. If she only knew the truth, she wouldn’t look at me the same way again. I wasn’t just the Delilah she thought she knew. But how could I possibly explain that?

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” she pleaded gently. “I’m all ears.”

The weight of her concern pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I could feel the truth clawing at my throat, begging to be let out, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. So, instead, I did what I’ve become so good at... lying. So I faked it. Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over in thick streams.

“I know you and dad are doing your best,” I began, my voice trembling. “But… it doesn’t feel like enough. I’m always alone. You’re never home. I wake up, and it’s just me. I come home, and it’s still just me.”

Her face stained with guilt, her eyes misting over. “Oh, sweetheart… I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to be like this.”

“But it is,” I continued, my voice breaking. “You both keep promising things will change, but they never do. I don’t want to complain, I know how hard you’re working, but… I just need you.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and for a moment, I regretted saying anything. “I wish I could make it up to you,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “I really do.”

“You can’t.” My voice was cold and hollow. “That’s what you always say. But it never changes. It’s fine, though. I’m used to it now.”

I turned away from her, burying myself in the blankets. “I have class tomorrow. I need some sleep.”

She sat for a moment before quietly leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her. I closed my eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop. My entire life had become one lie after another, and I was too deep in it to find my way out.