The Thief of My Body

Lily's POV

Carnegie Hall blazed with lights, expensive perfume thick in the air. I stood center stage, my violin gleaming under the spotlight. All 2,800 seats packed, every pair of eyes locked on me.

My fingers danced across the strings, notes flowing like liquid mercury. But I knew it wasn't really me playing.

The real me was trapped in the deepest part of my own body, like being locked in a pitch-black basement, only able to peek out at the world through a tiny window. Ten years. A whole damn decade of being a prisoner in my own skin.

Isabella, that Austrian woman dead for two hundred years, was living her dream life using MY body. She'd made me a world-famous violinist, made me "fall in love" with that bastard down there.

Fuck, what would these people think if they knew the truth?

The last note faded, and thunderous applause erupted.

Philip rose from the front row in his custom black tux, hair slicked back perfectly, clutching a velvet box with a ten-million-dollar pink diamond ring.

He walked to the stage edge and dropped to one knee. "Lily, my goddess!" His voice carried through the mic across the entire hall. "You've been my everything for ten years. Marry me!"

The audience held its breath. Camera shutters clicked like machine guns.

But I wanted to puke. Really wanted to throw up.

This piece of shit claimed he'd loved me for ten years? Ten years ago he was using me as a fucking BET! Back then I was just some poor mountain girl, a joke to these rich brats at Juilliard.

I felt my lips curving into a smile, my expression growing tender. Damn Isabella controlling my face again!

"NO!" I screamed in my consciousness. "Don't say yes to this asshole! He doesn't love you!"

Isabella's smug voice echoed in my mind. "Shut up, you little bitch. Philip's the perfect husband - rich, powerful, obsessed with me."

"He's obsessed with MY body! Not you, you dead hag!" I struggled desperately, but Isabella's control remained iron-strong.

"Same difference. This body belongs to me now."

I watched my hand slowly reaching toward that diamond ring. NO! I couldn't let this happen! I couldn't betray Marcus!

"Philip, I..." I heard my lips moving as Isabella prepared to say "I do."

"STOP! You dead bitch!" I threw everything against my mental prison. "Let go of my body! I have someone I love!"

"That Marcus?" Isabella's laughter turned piercing. "That poor boy? He forgot you long ago. Ten years - he's probably dead."

"NO!" Pain stabbed through my heart like a knife. "Marcus would never forget me! He's waiting!"

Just when despair nearly consumed me, suddenly a strange, warm power flowed into my consciousness.

This power was gentle but firm, spreading slowly through my mind, giving me unprecedented courage.

"This... how is this possible?" For the first time, Isabella's voice carried panic. "Who's interfering with my control?"

I didn't know who, but this was my only chance!

I gritted my teeth and used this mysterious power to violently attack Isabella's mental shackles. Ten years of accumulated anger, pain, and despair exploded at once!

"You ruined my life!" I roared in my mind. "You stole my body! You made me watch myself betray the person I love most!"

Isabella's mental chains began trembling, tiny cracks appearing.

"NO!" Isabella shrieked frantically. "I spent ten years getting this perfect body! I deserve to live like nobility!"

"None of that belongs to you!" I continued my assault, the mysterious power giving endless support. "This is MY body! MY life!"

CRACK—

The mental shackles finally shattered.

Suddenly, I was back in control! The bound feeling vanished instantly. I could feel my fingers, toes, every inch of skin. For the first time in ten years, my consciousness was completely clear!

I blinked, and the world became incredibly vivid. Colors brighter, sounds clearer.

I looked down at kneeling Philip, at his expectant, smug face, and my stomach churned.

Philip still waited for my answer, that nauseating smile plastered across his face. The audience held their breath, cameras worldwide focused on us.

I reached out. Philip's eyebrows shot up, his grin stretching ear to ear, thinking he'd won.

I took the diamond ring.

The entire hall fell graveyard silent.

Then I raised this ten-million-dollar "token of love" high above my head and, under everyone's shocked gaze, hurled it onto the marble floor.

CRASH!

The sharp impact exploded through the silent hall. The ring bounced, the massive diamond breaking free from its deformed setting and rolling to my feet. I lifted my foot and stomped that twisted platinum band with my heel until completely mangled.

Dead silence.

"What the hell..." Philip gaped, mouth hanging open.

"SHUT UP!" I pointed at his nose and shouted. "Remember the bet at Juilliard ten years ago? Make the mountain girl fall in love in a week - stakes were your fucking Maserati!"

The entire hall was dead silent. I could hear my heart pounding like crazy.

"Lily, darling, what are you talking about..." Philip tried approaching.

"Don't call me darling!" I stepped back. "And don't call me Lily Brooks! I'm Lily Carter - that pathetic mountain girl you and your rich boy friends tortured for fun!"

Then I did what I'd wanted to do for ten years—

SLAP!

A resounding slap sent Philip staggering backward, his left cheek instantly swelling with a bright red handprint. He clutched his face, too shocked to speak.

"Game over, you piece of trash!"

Isabella let out one final furious scream in my mind: "NO! You fucking bitch—"

Then her voice disappeared. Completely gone.

I was free.

The hall erupted in chaos. Reporters went crazy with cameras, audience members jumped from seats, staff rushed toward the stage.

Time to run.

"Stop her! She's having a breakdown!" Philip roared, holding his cheek. "Security! Don't let her escape!"

I bolted. My heels clicked frantically across the stage, heart nearly bursting from my chest.

Three security guards charged from stage left, trying to surround me. I didn't stop - rushed straight at the skinniest one. As he reached to grab me, I shoved him hard. While he lost balance, I darted past.

I ran off stage toward backstage. This damn dress! I stopped to kick off my heels, carrying them as I continued running. The cold floor stung my feet, but I didn't care.

In the corridor, a burly guard spread his arms, blocking my path. I didn't slow down. Just as he expected me to stop, I suddenly accelerated, feinting right. The moment his weight shifted, I changed direction and squeezed past along the left wall.

More guards charged from ahead. Thinking fast, I pushed open a dressing room door, rushed inside, and immediately locked it.

Violent pounding came from outside. I looked around and spotted a window. Third floor... pretty high, but better than getting caught by these assholes.

I grabbed a work jacket from the vanity to cover this too-conspicuous evening gown.

Climbing onto the vanity, I forced the window open. November wind in New York howled in, stinging my cheeks raw. Below was an alley with trash cans and cardboard boxes.

Behind me came kicking at the door, wood splintering. The frame was loosening - they were almost through.

"Shit..." I swallowed hard, my mouth full of fear's bitter taste.

BANG! The door burst open, three guards rushing in.

"She's at the window! Don't let her jump!"

But I was already on the windowsill.

"Sorry, Marcus. If I die, I'll wait for you in heaven," I whispered in my heart, then leaped into the void.