The Heiress' Revenge

Chapter 197: Take Off The Mask

Ariana’s POV

The word hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode, Ariana.

He had said my name, my real name, one that I had buried two years ago, the name that still belonged to him, no matter how far I ran.

I couldn’t do anything but stand there with my mask in Natasha’s hand and my face exposed to everyone in the room.

The other maids were staring; they had finally seen my face. They had all seen the woman behind the mask, and now Dante was looking at me like he had seen a ghost.

I reached out and grabbed my mask from Natasha’s hand. She was too shocked to stop me. I pulled it over my face. The fabric was cool against my skin.

"My name is not Ariana," I said, my voice shaking, but I forced the words out. "My name is Emily, don’t confuse me with someone else."

Dante stepped closer.

His eyes were wild as his hands were shaking. "Don’t! Don’t do that. Don’t stand there and lie to me. I know your face. I’ve been mourning that face for two years. I’ve been praying to see that face again for two years, and now you’re standing in front of me, and you expect me to believe you’re someone else?"

I stepped back, and my back hit the wall. There was nowhere to run. "I don’t know what you’re talking about.. ."

Dante grabbed my arm with his grip firm and desperate. "Take off the mask. Take it off and look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not her. Tell me you’re not Ariana. Tell me you didn’t die and leave me alone for two years. Tell me I didn’t bury an empty casket and cry over a grave that didn’t have your body in it."

I felt the tears come. I blinked them back. "Let go of me. You’re hurting my arm."

"I’ll let go when you tell me the truth." His voice cracked. "Please, Ariana. Please, if you ever loved me, if you ever cared about me, just tell me the truth."

Natasha stepped forward, confused and furious. "Dante, stop. You’re being ridiculous. This is my maid. She’s been working in this house for two years... she can’t be your dead wife, she’s just some woman who wears a mask because she’s ashamed of her face... she’s not worth it, the wedding is in a few hours’ time, let’s finish getting ready."

Dante didn’t look at her; his eyes never left mine. "I’m not moving or doing anything until she tells me the truth."

Natasha grabbed his arm. "Dante, listen to yourself... you’re just confused, get some rest before the wedding... I’m sorry, but you told me your wife is gone, she can’t be here now... You’ve been grieving for two years, and your mind is playing tricks on you. Now come away from her before you make a fool of yourself."

Dante shook her off; his hand was still on my arm. "I’m not making a fool of myself... I know what I saw, I know that this woman is my wife."

Natasha’s voice went cold. "Your wife is dead. You watched them lower her casket into the ground... You buried her. She’s gone. She’s never coming back, and this... this maid is not her."

Dante ignored her as he reached up. His fingers found the edge of my mask. "Take it off. Please. Just let me see your face one more time."

I shook my head. "No."

"Please."

"No."

He pulled the mask off.

The fabric slipped through his fingers.

My face was exposed again.

The air was cold on my skin.

The tears were falling down my cheeks.

I couldn’t hide anymore.

I couldn’t run anymore or pretend anymore.

Dante stared at me with his hands cupping my face. His thumbs brushed away my tears as his eyes searched mine. "Ariana.. It’s you, it’s really you."

I grabbed his wrists and tried to push him away. I tried to pull his hands off my face. "Let me go.. please, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just let me go."

"I can’t." His voice was broken. "Baby, please just tell me this is real, it’s you, that you never died."

Natasha grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away from Dante. Her nails dug into my skin. "Get your hands off him, you filthy, disgusting maid. How dare you touch him? How dare you stand there and let him believe you’re something you’re not?"

She yanked me backward.

Dante’s hands fell away from my face, causing me to stumble and almost fall. Natasha’s face was inches from mine, and her eyes were full of hate.

"I don’t know who you are," she hissed. "I don’t know where you came from, but I know you’re not Ariana. I know you’re not his dead wife. I know you’re just a pathetic, worthless, nobody maid who saw an opportunity to take advantage of a grieving man, and I will not let you destroy my wedding. I will not let you steal my fiancé. I will not let you ruin my life."

I looked at the woman who had made my life miserable for years. This woman was about to marry my husband. At this woman, who had no idea that she was standing in front of the ghost she had been trying to replace.

"I’m not trying to ruin anything," I said. "I’m not trying to steal anyone. I’m just trying to do my job. I told you, my name is Emily, not Ariana, just let go of me."

Natasha’s face twisted. Her hand flew up; she was going to slap me again.

But before her hand could connect, Dante grabbed her wrist, holding it in the air, and pushed her away. She stumbled backward with her dress tangled around her feet.

She almost fell but caught herself on the vanity. Her eyes were wide in shock and hurt.

"Dante," she whispered. "What are you doing? I’m your fiancée. I’m the woman you’re supposed to marry today, and you just pushed me away for a maid?"

Dante didn’t look at her.

His eyes were still on me. "I’m not marrying anyone today. I’m not marrying anyone ever, not until I find out the truth, not until I know who she is, and I understand why my dead wife is standing in front of me wearing a maid’s uniform and a mask."

Natasha screamed. "No! I won’t let you do this. I won’t let her take you away from me. I won’t let her win."

She lunged at me, her hands reached for my hair, but Dante grabbed her, holding her back. She struggled against him.

"Get off me! Let me go! She’s lying! She’s tricking you! She’s not your wife! Your wife is dead! Your wife is buried! Your wife is never coming back!"