Finding a Canary Double After My Death

Five years after my suicide, Jovan Thorne got himself a new canary.
Everyone said she was a lot like me, from her looks to her personality.
I disagreed. I would never tie Jovans tie. I certainly wouldn't celebrate his birthday.
The only thing I ever did was find new and inventive ways to make his life hell.
His misery was my happiness.

1
Everyone in Atheria Citys glittering, debauched social circle knew that Jovan Thorne despised me.
It was because my mother, before she moved into the Thorne family mansion, was a masseuse at an exclusive spa.
His mother, on the other hand, was the heiress to the Lancaster Group.
He was born into a world of privilege and power, draped in silk and accolades. We were worlds apart. From the moment he first laid eyes on me, he wanted me gone, ground into the dirt.
I couldn't change the affairs of our parents, but I didn't owe him a damn thing.
So, I made it my mission to antagonize him at every turn.
He was never good with words, always losing our verbal spars, and his precious gentlemans code kept him from getting physical. All he could do was storm off, jaw clenched tight.
While we were busy tearing each other apart, our parents slowly faded from the world, one after the other.
And just like that, my last shield was gone.
Jovan finally dropped the mask. Whenever I pissed him off, he'd lock me in the darkness of the old cellar.
But a kid who grew up on the streets isn't afraid of the dark.
Id scream insults at him through the heavy oak door, hurling every vile word I knew.
One night, I must have truly broken him. He threw the door open, pinned me against the cold stone, and the sound of my white dress tearing ripped through the silence.
I dragged myself up from the floor and slapped him across the face, the sound sharp and final.
He seized my wrist, his eyes burning with a vicious fire.
"You're just like your mother," he hissed. "A cheap whore."
I didn't cry. My face was a blank canvas. I stood tall, looking down on him.
"And you think you're so noble, Jovan? You're just a bastard. A filthy little secret." I spat on the floor near his expensive shoes.
Jovan wasn't a true Thorne. He was the product of his mother's affair. He had no idea how I knew, and the rage that flooded his face was terrifying. His eyes went bloodshot as his hands closed around my throat.
"Say that again," he growled, his voice dangerously low. "I'll kill you."
Air became a luxury. My vision started to swim in black spots. But I wasn't afraid. A part of me hoped he wouldn't let go. The veins on my neck pulsed, a stark contrast to my pale skin. A smirk played on my lips, sharp and defiant.
"Bas...tard..."
The sounds of a strugglethudding bodies, muffled groansechoed from behind the door. The housekeeper and the staff were used to it. No one ever interfered.
Only when the moon was high in the sky did Jovan finally shove me away and slam the door, leaving me in the suffocating silence.
I licked my lips, the coppery tang of his blood a small victory.
Once again, I pulled myself to my feet and walked barefoot back to my room.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, was waiting for me. She was in her fifties, with a kind face that was utterly wasted on her. Her loyalty belonged to Jovan. She handed me a pill and a glass of water.
Without a second glance, I tossed it into my mouth and swallowed it dry.
A flicker of something crossed her eyes before she turned and walked away, the untouched water still in her hand.
The next evening was the Thorne Corporation's annual gala. Jovan and I were both required to attend.
My body ached all over. Id slept the entire day and still felt like I'd been run over.
Jovan never knocked. He kicked my door open, leaning against the frame with his hands shoved in his pockets.
"If you don't want me to start making trouble for your little friends, you'll be downstairs in thirty minutes."
I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "Get out."
He dodged it easily. "Twenty-nine minutes," he said, his voice flat.

2
In the end, I got in the car with him.
The Thorne Corporation was a titan in Atheria, with its fingers in tourism, education, real estateyou name it. Jovan was a brilliant, ruthless businessman who knew how to command loyalty. As the primary heir, he'd been groomed for power, stepping in as Vice President while his father was still alive and sliding seamlessly into the CEO position.
Tonight's event was to launch their new entertainment company.
We entered the venue separately, a silent agreement.
Jovan was on stage, playing the part of the perfect gentleman in his tailored black suit and gold-rimmed glasses. The crowd below, a sea of glamorous celebrities and fawning socialites, watched him with pure adoration.
It made me sick. I rolled my eyes and slipped out the back.
The gala was held at a sprawling estate, rumored to have a private menagerie of exotic animals. I wandered for a while but couldn't find it.
"Miss Vance? Are you lost?"
I looked up. A man in a dark green suit was watching me with curious eyes. He was pale, almost ethereal in the moonlight.
I raised an eyebrow, a slow, playful smile spreading across my face. "You know who I am?"
"Jovan Thorne's sister? I don't think there's a soul in Atheria who doesn't."
"Are you married?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.
He blinked, clearly flustered. "No."
I crossed my arms and sauntered over to him, my gaze direct and sincere. "Marry me. Become Mr. Thorne's brother-in-law. So, what do you say?"
His face flushed a brilliant crimson. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. This guy was actually trying to play innocent. Sure, Jovan hated my guts, but the line of men willing to marry into the Thorne family, even through me, was endless. After all, I was his sister, and a minor shareholder in the company.
I reached out and brushed my fingers against his hot cheek. "We could be at the courthouse tomorrow morning. And I could move in with you."
"Aya!"
Speak of the devil. Jovan's voice cut through the air like a whip.
His security guard materialized and politely escorted the man in green away. Jovan stared at me, his face a mask of disgust.
"Are you that desperate? That was Donovan, the family disappointment. A spineless coward. You'd really stoop that low?"
I didn't bother to answer, turning to leave. He grabbed my arm, yanking me back so hard I stumbled. I ripped my arm from his grasp, glaring. Then, a wicked smile bloomed on my face. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my eyes locking with his.
"Don't tell me you're jealous, Jovan?"
He was furious. Again.
His fingers clamped down on my jaw, the pressure immense. For a second, I thought the bone might crack.
"Slut."
It was his favorite word for me. I was getting tired of it.
That night, he locked me in the cellar again. In the pitch black, he couldn't see the bleak emptiness in my eyes, or the way my spirit was slowly breaking. I left several deep bite marks on his shoulder. They must have hurt, because the next day, he could barely lift his arm.
That made me happy. I grabbed my purse, ready for a day out.
It's a small world. I ran into Donovan, the "spineless coward," at a high-end lounge. He had a young woman cornered in his booth, forcing drink after drink on her. She looked like a good kid, innocent, not one of us.
I strolled over and sat down, beaming at him.
"Honey, I thought we were getting our marriage license today. Why didn't you show up?"
The entire lounge went silent.
Donovan dropped his glass, which shattered on the floor like a thousand tiny stars.
The girl beside him stammered, "Miss Vance, you... you and him...?"
I nodded graciously. "We're engaged! You should all come to the wedding. You too, sweetie," I said, winking at her.
The girl fled. I later found out she was a 19-year-old student Donovan had lured from her university. When I heard, I made a call. He spent the next month in a hospital bed.
When Jovan found out, he looked at me, his expression unreadable.
"You even beat up your own fianc?"
"What's it to you? Jealous? You want a beating too?"
He seethed, calling me a whore again.
I picked up my glass of water and threw it in his face.
"My mother was married to your father, legally and properly. Do you understand me? Say it again, and I'll cut out your tongue."

3
The Thorne's new entertainment company had a rising star.
An actor in his early twenties. I couldn't remember his name, but he was handsome. My friend mentioned he had a passing resemblance to me.
I nearly choked on my coffee. "That's great. Now that you've said that, you've probably just jinxed his entire career."
"Are you and Jovan still at each other's throats?"
"When have fire and water ever gotten along?" I shot back.
She sighed, a sound of pure exasperation.
That night, Mrs. Gable informed me that Jovan wouldn't be home for dinner. I was so delighted I ate two huge bowls of rice before floating upstairs.
In the dead of night, I felt a presence by my bed. Jovan. The stench of alcohol rolled off him in waves.
I pulled the covers tighter around me and told him to get lost.
A moment of silence passed. When I glanced over, he was actually gone.
Strange. He'd actually listened for once.
The next morning, Mrs. Gable told me Jovan was sick with a high fever. I was meticulously painting my nails.
"He's sick? Call a doctor. What's the point of telling me? I'm not a miracle worker."
His life or death was no concern of mine. I went out to have fun, same as always.
He came back from the hospital a week later. They say illness makes you look frail, but not him. He looked as healthy as ever, his eyes just as cold.
He found me painting and sneered.
"There isn't an artistic bone in your body. Don't pretend to be cultured. It's a waste of time."
"You're right," I said without looking up. "I am wasting time. It's a shame the bars aren't open during the day."
"You go to bars often?"
Now it was my turn to sneer. I put down my brush and turned to him.
"Don't you have people following me 24/7? How could you not know I go to bars? Your employees are slipping. You should fire them."
He was holding a coffee cup. With his free hand, he pulled out his phone and did just that.
Satisfied, I went back to my painting.
That night, I put on a scandalously short dress and went to the grimiest, most chaotic bar I could finda place where drugs, gambling, and prostitution were all on the menu.
I picked the most conspicuous table and sat down.
It didn't take long for a guy with bleached-blond hair to approach. His fashion sense was a train wreck, but I didn't care. We drank, glass after glass. Soon, the world was spinning, and I was leaning into him.
He was ecstatic, fumbling with a wad of crumpled bills to pay the tab as he wrapped an arm around me. He led me out the back, into a dark, narrow alley. My heels kept slipping on the slick pavement. I stumbled several times, and each time he roughly pulled me back up.
"Hey, handsome," I slurred. "Where are we going?"
"To the after-party, of course."
I giggled stupidly. "After-party! Yes! I love after-parties!"
He pushed me against a grimy brick wall. My vision blurred as I looked up at him. He started fumbling with his clothes, but the cheap zipper on his jacket was stuck. Frustrated, he just ripped it open.
I let out a soft "Oh," feigning sympathy. "Your jacket is broken."
"You're more important than a jacket!" he grunted, lunging at me.
I stared up at the single, flickering streetlamp overhead, my heart a placid lake.
Suddenly, the weight on top of me vanished. I glanced to the side.
What a shame.
Jovan strode into the alley, his face a thundercloud. His men were already dragging the unconscious blond away.
I remained on the ground, looking up at him. "Always the hero, aren't you, Mr. Thorne? Ruining everyone's fun."
My self-destructive performance sent him into a rage.
He yanked me to my feet, and I fought back, kicking and scratching. "Let go of me! I said let go, you bastard!"
My hair was a mess, and the strap of my dress had snapped, exposing my shoulder.
Jovan ripped off his suit jacket and threw it over me, his eyes sharp as shards of glass. "You're a Thorne, Aya. Stop acting like your mother!"
CRACK!
"Jovan, haven't I told you? You don't talk about my mother!"
I'd put all my strength into that slap. His head snapped to the side. He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, then, to my horror, he smiled.
His hand came back, fast and hard. The force of his slap sent me staggering backward. I crashed into a row of overflowing trash cans before crumpling to the ground.
What the hell did this bastard eat? The force of it left me stunned, unable to get up.

4
When I woke up, I was in a hospital.
A nurse told me I'd been unconscious for three days. No wonder I was starving.
Jovan walked in, dark circles under his eyes, looking worn out for the first time I could remember. The sight of him filled me with irritation. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. I was the patient now; I wouldn't win a fight.
He stood by the bed, his gaze fixed on my back.
"You did this on purpose."
Silence.
"Aya, did you do this on purpose? Answer me!"
Still silence.
"If you don't say something, I'll have your mother's ashes dug up and scattered to the wind."
I shot up in bed, my finger pointing straight at his nose, a torrent of curses erupting from my lipssoulless, inhuman, worse than an animal.
He didn't react, just repeated the question. "Was it on purpose?"
What the hell was he talking about?
"You're pregnant," he said, his voice flat. "Two months."
I wasn't surprised at all. "Oh, you found out?" I said, my voice deceptively calm. "You must be thrilled. You're going to be an uncle."
His expression was strained, his tone laced with an emotion I couldn't place. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"
I scoffed, then lay back down, pulling the covers up as if settling in for a long rest.
Jovan sat on the sofa across the room, his voice as cold as ice. "I've fired the entire staff. A new team is coming in. From now on, you'll stay here and rest. You are not to leave this house."
I sat up again, staring at him, fighting the urge to scream. "Are you insane? Who are you to make decisions for me? You really think you're the uncle?"
"You know exactly who I am to this child," he said, his gaze deep and unwavering, but still filled with that familiar contempt.
Jovan himself came to pick me up from the hospital. When he tried to open the car door for me, I shoved his hand away and got in on the other side.
When we arrived at the mansion, it was just as he'd said. Not a single familiar face remained, not even Mrs. Gable. He'd also posted several bodyguards around the property. I cursed him endlessly. He was treating me like a prisoner.
Time crawled by. The actress who looked like me officially announced she was dating Jovan. I watched her smiling face on the television and felt a pang of pity for her. That bastard didn't deserve anyone.
Soon after, Jovan had to relocate overseas for an extended period to deal with issues at a foreign branch.
I practically danced with joy.
One night, unable to sleep, I wrapped a coat around my shoulders and went into the garden to look at the stars. The ground was slick with dew. My foot slipped, and just as I braced myself to fall onto the soft grass, a gust of wind rushed past my ear. A strong arm caught me, holding me steady.
In the darkness, his eyes shone brightly.
He looked young, almost boyish.
I pulled my coat tighter and studied him. "What's your name? I haven't seen you during the day."
"Miss Vance. My name is Liam. I'm on the night shift."
I was genuinely surprised. The bodyguards had shifts? Did the night shift pay better?
Liam shook his head, his expression earnest. "I don't think so. I'm not sure."
He was much more interesting than the daytime guards, who walked around with permanent scowls as if I owed them money. At least Liam could hold a conversation.
From then on, I often sought him out to talk.
One evening, while we were chatting, Jovan's call came through. He'd threatened me with my mother again, forcing me to answer. I pressed the button, fighting back a wave of nausea.
Jovan's voice was tight with suppressed rage. "I've figured it out. You weren't taking the pills, were you?"
I instinctively didn't want Liam to hear this, so I stood up and walked a little further away. "What pills? I'm perfectly healthy."
"Aya! You know what I'm talking about."
I looked up at the moon. It was so bright, just like the first night I'd ever spent in this mansion.
A small smile touched my lips. "You're only figuring this out now, Jovan? Isn't it a little late?"
He must have been livid. He was the one who pulled the strings, not the other way around.
"Let's make a deal," I proposed. "You let me go, and I'll disappear from your life forever. You can go back to being Atheria's golden boy."
"And if I say no?"
"Then I'm sure there are plenty of media outlets that would be very interested in Mr. Thorne's private life."
"You really are a bitch, Aya."

5
A bitch? I just wanted to be free.
Was my mother a whore? She was just trying to survive.
I was only seven when my mother was still a masseuse. Her life wasn't pristine, but she earned her living with her own two hands. Jovan's father saw her, claimed she looked just like his first love, and dragged her into the Thorne mansion, whether she wanted it or not.
When my own father came looking for me, he died in a car crash on his way home.
Suddenly, I was an orphan, lost on the streets without a mother or a father.
It was only then that my mother agreed to all of Jovan's father's demands, on one condition: that they bring me to the mansion. He was so happy he sent his men to find me that very day.
I lay back in the garden's rocking chair, searching for my parents among the stars.
The night air was cold. So cold it brought tears to my eyes.
Liam stood nearby, silent. He handed me a handkerchief.
I looked at it and let out a small laugh. Who even used handkerchiefs anymore? I took it and wiped my tears away. Then I rememberedmy mother used to love them. She said they were convenient and clean.
I looked up at Liam. He was still standing at attention, not looking at me, his face still holding that boyish innocence.
A month after Jovan left, the new housekeeper took me to the hospital for a check-up.
I insisted Liam come with us. He hesitated, clearly worried about breaking protocol.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Dude, I'm the one you're guarding. Do you listen to me or a schedule?"
He thought for a moment, then got in the car. Honestly, I'd never met someone so straight-laced.
The check-up went fine. While we were there, a friend called and invited me out. I lied and said I was out of the country. She yelled at me for not inviting her along. I didn't know how to explain, so I just hung up.
It had been so long since I'd been out. The world outside seemed to have gotten even more vibrant.
A new coffee shop had opened next to the hospital. Ignoring the housekeeper's protests, I decided I needed a cup.
As fate would have it, Jovan's actress girlfriend was there. She recognized me immediately and greeted me with a wide, bright smile.
"Miss Vance! What a surprise to see you here."
I was thin, and my clothes were loose, so my pregnancy wasn't obvious. I gave her a curt nod, wanting nothing to do with her.
She seemed oblivious to my coldness and followed me. Liam stepped between us, and she looked at me with a confused, almost pitiful expression.
"Miss Vance, could I just have a word with you?"
With a sigh, I let her sit down.
She was a chatterbox. Her endless stream of words made my head spin. I escaped to the restroom for a moment of peace. When I returned, she looked embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Vance. I talk way too much, don't I?"
I shook my head politely.
Her face was a little pale, and she seemed nervous. "I was worried you'd find me annoying."
I drained my coffee in one gulp and stood up to leave.
The moment I got back in the car, a dull ache started in my lower abdomen. At first, it was just a throb, but then it intensified, feeling like a heavy weight was pressing down, pulling my entire body toward the ground.
The pain was excruciating. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
"Liam..." I whispered.
No response.
Of course. He was a bodyguard. He wouldn't be in the main cabin with me. A soundproof partition separated me from the driver.
I curled into a ball on the leather seat, then tumbled onto the floor. My hands clutched my stomach, trembling so violently I couldn't form a single word. Then I felt something warm and sticky seeping out from under me. I reached down. Blood. So much blood.
I never knew a person could bleed this much. I didn't know how much longer I could keep bleeding before... before I died.
Maybe it was for the best. I'd been tired of living for a long time anyway.

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