Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress

The loud blaring of an alarm shattered the silence of the dark room, pulling Jamal Jonas from the depths of sleep.

"I'm done with college, for fuck's sake; why is the damned alarm still ringing?" Twenty-two-year-old Jamal groaned as he buried his face in the pillow and fumbled for his phone on the nightstand.

His hand smacked against the screen, silencing the sound.

With a low curse under his breath, Jamal picked up the phone and squinted at the glowing display to see what the alarm was meant for.

His brows furrowed as he stared at the reminder on the screen. [Dawn's 18th Birthday.]

His heart skipped a beat as the last traces of sleep vanished from his eyes. He sat upright in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist.

He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, his chest tightening.

Eighteen. She was eighteen today.

He couldn't believe it had been fifteen years since he last saw her.

Jamal's gaze shifted to the small white and pink stuffed panda resting beside his pillow. Its button eyes stared back at him, unblinking and unchanged after all these years.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "I think it's time to go back to your owner," he muttered, his voice low and rough in the quiet room. "I hope I'll finally get to meet her now. And I hope she remembers us."

As much as they had been childhood best friends, approaching a girl of seventeen would have been considered an offense for a guy his age; hence, he had waited until now.

Now that she was officially an adult, he believed that he could get close to her.

With a sigh he set aside the stuffed panda and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed as he reached for his phone again.

He dialed his assistant's number, which was on his speed dial, and the call connected after the second ring.

"Good morning, Jamal," came the crisp voice on the other end.

"I need you to book me the next available flight to Westend," Jamal said, his voice hoarse from sleep. "I have to be there by tomorrow."

There was a pause. "What's happening at Westend, Jamal?" the assistant asked cautiously.

Jamal's jaw tightened. "Are you asking because you're curious or because you want to inform my grandfather?"

"I'm asking so I can make the right arrangements," the assistant replied smoothly. "Should I contact the pilot and have him fly you there directly?"

Jamal sighed heavily, leaning back against the headboard. "No, I don't need the pilot."

"What about your accommodation…"

"Just book a regular flight. I'll handle the rest," Jamal cut in impatiently.

"Understood," the assistant said, his voice as neutral as ever.

Jamal ended the call and set the phone down on the nightstand. He contemplated giving Lucy a call to tell her about his plans since he knew that she was the only other person who cared for Dawn as much as he did, but he didn't.

His mentor, Tom, would kill him if he dared to call his wife and raise her hopes over meeting Dawn, only to be disappointed.

He was just going to do this without informing anyone, and if he were able to get past her stepfather and meet her, he would figure out a way to convince her to meet the rest of the family.

Now that she was eighteen, she could make decisions for herself. Everyone had been waiting for this moment, and he wanted to be the first to contact her.

He wanted Dawn to know that he had not forgotten her once this whole time.

Before he could move, a message notification flashed on the screen. It was from his cousin, Mari.

[Have you seen this? Dawn is resuming college at Blue York tomorrow. You can now see her.]

Attached to the message was a link to a TikTok post. Immediately, Jamal clicked on it, and there on the screen was a video of Genevieve dancing with a caption:

[POV: It's your eighteenth birthday today, and you're resuming college tomorrow at Blue York]

Jamal sighed deeply as he stared at the video. His stomach twisted. Westend wasn't the right destination anymore. It would take over twenty-four hours to get there, and she would already be gone by then.

Blue York was closest to him here, and it would only take him some hours to get there from Sogal. If he left today, he would get there before she did.

He picked up his phone again and redialed his assistant. "Change of plans," he said as soon as the call connected. "Book me a flight to Blue York instead."

The assistant didn't question him this time. "I will take care of it."

As Jamal stepped out of his penthouse an hour later with his backpack slung over one shoulder, he saw his assistant waiting patiently by his car.

Without a word, Jamal tossed the car keys to him. The assistant caught them with ease, though his expression betrayed his curiosity. "You're really making me drive you to the airport without telling me why you're going there?"

"Just get in," Jamal muttered as he climbed into the passenger seat.

As the assistant pulled the car out onto the quiet streets, he glanced at Jamal out of the corner of his eye.

"Now that you have graduated college and, you're set to start working at the company full-time. Everyone's expecting you to at least grant an interview. People are curious about you, you know— especially about the face of Jamal Jonas. The youngest CEO of HAJ studios," he said, breaking the silence.

Jamal didn't respond. He wasn't listening. His attention was on his phone, where the video of Genevieve dancing was still playing.

Each time he saw a picture or video of her, he couldn't help feeling bad about how much her face had changed. The face on the screen and even her behavior were strange to him.

"I hate that name," he muttered under his breath.

The assistant frowned. "What name?" He asked, wondering if he was referring to his own name since that was the last name he mentioned.

"Genevieve," Jamal said, his voice laced with bitterness. "It doesn't suit her. I don't know why they had to change her name from Dawn. Dawn was perfect for her."

The assistant sighed inwardly, wondering when Jamal was going to stop obsessing over Dawn.

Jamal stayed silent, his focus still on the video for the rest of the drive. When they arrived at the airport, the assistant parked and turned to him. "Back to what I was saying, you can't avoid the spotlight forever, you know. People will keep asking questions."

Jamal finally looked up, his brown eyes sharp. "I have no interest in revealing my identity," he said with a scowl. "Stop bringing it up."

Before the assistant could respond, Jamal stepped out of the car, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

He didn't look back as he walked toward the terminal, the stuffed panda tucked safely inside his bag alongside his debit card.

All he could think about was Dawn. Genevieve. Whatever name she went by now. He was going to find her. And this time, he wouldn't let anything keep them apart.