Chapter 136 Identity Theft
Anthony walked in briskly, filled with excitement. But upon laying eyes on Sarah, he paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his mind.
Is she truly Angel?
The once soft black hair was now a brassy explosion, her clear eyes now cloudy with ambition. They didn't have the purity of the girl he'd seen in the car earlier.
To put it bluntly, she came off like a street-smart gal, the type of woman he'd never associate with before.
Meanwhile, Sarah felt completely different, electrified by his presence. Her heart thundered with infatuation, and she was so overjoyed, she began to fantasize about their wedding.
After a few seconds, Anthony continued forward and approached her. His throat quivered, and he softly called out, "Angel."
"Hmm?" Sarah blushed like a schoolgirl with a crush.
"I'm William; have you forgotten?" he asked gently.
"Of course not, how could I forget? I saved you as a child, from that fire. I was just so surprised earlier; that's why I seemed a bit off," Sarah said, quickly recovering her composure.
It was indeed her. That incident was their shared secret.
Anthony's doubts vanished, and he felt ashamed of his earlier suspicions. People change, especially over so many years. Angel, having suffered at the hands of her stepmother and surrounded by such a tough environment, could have easily strayed.
And even if her current style wasn't ideal, it didn't change who she was. He believed that deep down, she was still the pure and kind-hearted Angel.
Anthony felt even more remorseful. If only he'd appeared in her life sooner, perhaps she could have gone abroad to study, received a better education, and perhaps become a respected doctor or lawyer.
"This bracelet, you've been wearing it all this time?" Anthony asked as he gently took her hand.
It was a keepsake left to him by his late mother.
Sarah had only worn the jewelry a few times, but she insisted, "Of course I wear it every day. It was a gift from you. I've always believed you would come back." Her acting classes paid off; her gaze was brimming with emotion.
"I'm sorry," he confessed. "After the Eilish family took me back, my father sent me abroad for my safety. I didn't come to see you sooner, and I should have."
Sarah's response was soft, her head gently shaking. "I've never held it against you. It's your safety that matters."
"You saved me once, and because of that, I'm here today. Whatever you desire, I'll see it fulfilled."
Sarah was torn, turmoil raging within her.
She initially wanted two million dollars to cut ties entirely, so he'd never discover she was pretending to be Layla.
But a man like him was a poison to any woman, and she couldn't bear to let go; her greed was stirring. She wanted the money and him. She yearned for the life of a socialite, wrapped in luxury and opulence.
With the gambler's spirit driving her, Sarah took a gamble. Tears glistened in her eyes as she spoke with a touch of hurt, "I saved you because I cared about you, not for your money. What do you take me for?"
"I didn't mean it like that," he hurried to clarify. "I just want to show my gratitude, help you live a better life." She clearly wasn't thriving; she needed support.
"You owe me nothing. I don't need compensation. I just hope we can continue to be good friends."
Retreating to advance, Sarah's tactic deeply touched Anthony. She remained the same kind-hearted angel he remembered, unchanged.
Anthony nodded, "Of course."
But Sarah, ever perceptive, sensed Anthony's lingering dissatisfaction. Was it her hairstyle? Perhaps he preferred Layla's innocent look, deceptively sweet as she was.
She inquired on purpose, "Do you think my hair looks terrible?"
"If you like it, that's what matters."
"I hate it. My mom tried to marry me off to some guy, and I styled it like this to scare him off. I don't usually look like this."
He nodded in understanding, "I see."
His angel could never turn into a streetwise punk.
"Would you come with me to dye it back to black?"
"Let's do it."
"Okay!" Sarah excitedly linked her arm with Anthony's. At his glance, she blushed, hesitantly apologizing, "Sorry, I didn't mean to."
Anthony chuckled, "It's fine, hang on if it makes you happy."
Thrilled, Sarah clung tighter to his arm. With each step, she felt like she was walking on clouds, tail-waggingly proud.
Anthony took her to the most upscale salon in the city.
"Welcome!" The salesgirls greeted with beaming smiles. Their eyes discreetly roamed over the odd couple— the man exuded an air of dignified sophistication, while the woman was decked out in garish, street-style fashion. They seemed mismatched. Were wealthy bodyguards into this kind of eccentric look nowadays?
A thrill ran through Sarah; rubbing elbows with high society had always been a dream of hers.
The last time she had set foot in this boutique, the staff treated her with chilly indifference, but now, they were all obsequious smiles.
Her vanity swelled with satisfaction.
"I want it dyed black," announced Sarah, her chin held high with pride.
"Right this way, please."
"Are you going to wait for me?" Sarah's eyes fluttered toward Anthony, her voice tinged with hope.
"Mm-hm. I need to make a call," Anthony nodded. He had planned a family dinner for tonight but finding Sarah so soon meant he had to postpone it. After over a decade of searching, he longed to spend more time with her.
"Okay, I'll be quick. Don't go anywhere," Sarah said with a sweet smile.
Clutching a swatch book, the female manager bowed deeply and asked, "What kind of dyes would you be looking at, in terms of price?"
"Why would you ask such a stupid question? Are you brainless? Of course, the most expensive one!" Sarah snorted dismissively. "I remember you. A month ago, when I came here and forgot my money, you were the one who threw me out."
The manager's face turned pale. "You must be mistaken, ma'am. How could I treat a valued customer that way?"
"Because you were blind, mistaking me for someone penniless. Now open your eyes wide and see for yourself if I have money!" Sarah's eyes blazed, intimidating.
The manager became even more servile, quickly apologizing, "I am so sorry for my oversight. Please don't hold it against me."
"Go on, get the most expensive treatment ready. If I'm not satisfied, I'll trash this place."
"Yes, yes, we'll make sure you're pleased."
Three hours later.
Sarah looked up from her game and was startled by the reflection of a black-haired woman in the mirror.
Her blonde hair had turned raven-black, the heavy makeup softened to subtlety.
"Damn! Isn't this the same hair as Layla, that two-faced witch?" Sarah muttered with disgust. "I can't stand those pretentious types."
But she was slated to play "Layla," so she had to put on the act, and the closer to the truth, the better.
"That color suits you so well, you look stunning with that hairstyle."
"Yeah, it's so classy." Although the employees had been scolded, they kept their anger in check, complimenting her. Admittedly, her black hair was a vast improvement over the previous tousled blonde mess.
"Of course, I'm beautiful!"
Sarah couldn't wait and stepped outside. "So, what do you think?"
Anthony looked up from his emails, momentarily taken aback.
Black hair, indeed, looked better than blonde, lending her an air of newfound innocence.
But still...
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