Prologue

August 24th

Disappointment, yet again—why does she continue to deny me? Not once in all these years has she kept her promise? I’ve kept mine. All have refused my terms even with the wedding preparations completed. This one’s like the rest of them—she cries all day and all night long. What more did she want? We have each other. That should be enough for her.

She lies, insists she’s not my Ciara. And I’m saddened. I can see it in her eyes. My lovely Ciara’s planning on running away again? Not this time, bitch. You made me a promise. A promise you will keep one way or another. Until death do us part. You will not humiliate me again. We’re mated for life. That’s what marriage means. If I can’t have you no one else will.

The fake must die. The simple truth of it struck hard. Though I’ve explained all this to her time after time, she doesn’t listen. Not one of them have kept their promise. Don’t they understand a promise is a commitment? Our wedding day has come and gone—five long years alone. And I haven’t one clue to your whereabouts. Each time I wind up with a cheap copy. No marriage, no children. I’ll give her one last chance though I understand deep in my heart it’s useless. She’s not Ciara—Ciara, never cries. Ciara, you’re independent, wild, strong and beautiful.

I will not…cannot live without Ciara. I must find you and end this charade with the imposter downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs he stood, listened to the low whimper, then shut down his emotions. As he studied her he moved closer, and for the first time in weeks the differences popped out. A charlatan—how did I miss it? Oh, how she made a fool of me. Not anymore—she’ll join the other pretenders.

Calmer, he walked over to her, unhooked the chains that bound her wrists and legs. With no fight left in her, he easily handled her. He dragged her up off the basement floor, spun her around, spooned her to his body and caressed the side of her face with his knife. He pressed the steel to her throat and drew a fine line until a trickle of blood appeared. He rested his head on hers and took a deep whiff, inhaling all the fragrances that bespoke of Ciara. Though her hair had been washed in Ciara’s shampoo, her neck drenched in Ciara’s perfume, this imposter was not his Ciara.

I’ve searched for you Ciara for five long years. How can anyone disappear off the face of the earth? Where are you? You bitch, you humiliated me in front of both our families and friends. You left me stranded at the altar on our wedding day. I waited hour after hour for you. You didn’t show. You left with no explanation. Why? What an idiot I’d been…worrying something bad had happened to you. God, how I wished it had. Not one word from you, no explanation, no apology. Not a whisper or trace of you in all these years.

Your parents moved away—left me no forwarding address. Ah, but I know where they live. I’ve traced them through the internet. It seems Ciara, you don’t live with them. My tracers on your social security number, your credit cards haven’t turned up one clue. Though I almost had you once. Your mother’s credit card was used in a different state and another one on the same day in the state where she lived. I jumped on a plane, searched the area where the purchases had been made, but I never sighted you. Aren’t you working Ciara? Are you using a different social security number and name. Damn it, where are you?

“What is your real name?” he demanded.

* * * *

“It’s…it’s Nadia. I keep telling you. My name is Nadia,” she screamed hoarsely. Broken, she almost was unable to remember her own name. Nadia knew deep in her heart she hated a woman named Ciara. A woman she had never met.

“It’s not Ciara?”

“No.” Nadia knew this was the end, and had even prayed for it.

She sent her prayers, her goodbyes and love to Donny, her parents, and her sister.

“Say goodbye, Nadia.” He pressed the knife deep into her skin as he ran it across her throat, left to right, ending her life.

After weeks of torture, she barely registered the final insult.