Transmigrated: I Became My Nemesis's Woman

The next morning, Ivy woke before Xander, a dull ache lingering through her body from the intensity of the previous night. She let out a quiet groan as she pushed herself upright and reached for her phone on the bedside table.

She had received a message from Sal the night before, but exhaustion had overtaken her before she could read it. Now that she was awake, she unlocked her phone and opened the attachment.

The file contained detailed information on Logan Mortini, just as Xander had mentioned. Alongside the documents was an old photograph.

Ivy frowned.

She immediately recognized Logan and Lucas Emerson—Xander’s father—but the third man standing beside them was unfamiliar.

Scrolling further, she opened his profile and read the heading aloud.

"Officer Frederick William," she murmured.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the report before suddenly stopping on a single line.

"Dead?"

Her brows knitted together as she stared at the screen, a growing sense of unease settling in her chest.

"What about his family?" Ivy muttered to herself.

She scrolled through the file again, carefully reviewing every section, but there was no mention of any relatives.

*Did Sal overlook something?* she wondered.

The thought vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. Sal was meticulous in his work. If he hadn’t included any information about Frederick’s family, it was probably because he hadn’t found any trace of them.

Lost in thought, Ivy nearly jumped when a voice broke the silence.

"Where did you get that photo?"

She looked up to find Xander awake, his eyes fixed on the screen in her hands with unmistakable curiosity.

For a brief moment, her mind went blank. *When did he wake up?* Then she realized he wasn’t watching her—he was staring at the photograph.

"I asked someone to look into Logan," she replied.

Xander’s brows drew together.

"Someone?" he repeated.

"I’ll explain that another time," Ivy said, smoothly sidestepping the question. She turned the phone toward him instead. "First, tell me this. Do you know who this man is?"

Xander studied her for a moment before shifting his gaze to the image. His expression changed almost instantly, and he gave a slow nod.

"Yes," he said. "That’s Frederick William—a respected police officer and one of my father’s closest friends."

Ivy’s eyes narrowed slightly at his answer.

"A friend..." she echoed under her breath, her thoughts beginning to race.

Something about the man unsettled Ivy, but Xander’s voice pulled her away from the thought before she could dwell on it.

"What’s going through your mind?" he asked, studying her expression.

Ivy met his gaze but kept her suspicion to herself. She had the strange feeling that she had seen Frederick somewhere before, yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember where.

Instead, she asked, "Where is he now? And what about his family?" 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Although Sal’s report listed Frederick as deceased, she wanted to hear Xander’s perspective.

Xander was silent for a moment before answering.

"We don’t know where Frederick is," he said. "Officially, he’s presumed dead, but I’ve never been convinced."

Ivy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The records state that Frederick died," Xander explained, leaning back against the headboard. "But when I had the case investigated years later, I found inconsistencies. The body recovered by the police didn’t appear to be his. It belonged to someone else."

Ivy’s expression grew serious.

"When my parents died, I was too young to understand what had happened," Xander continued quietly. "But once I was old enough to uncover the truth, I started looking into everyone who had been close to them."

"The first was Logan Mortini. By then, he had already left the country and cut off all contact, leaving no trace behind."

He paused before continuing.

"The second was Frederick. Learning of his supposed death shocked me, but what troubled me even more was the timing. According to the records, he died on the very same day as my parents."

Xander’s eyes darkened as he recalled the details.

"Grandpa told me that Frederick’s house caught fire. The authorities claimed his entire family perished in the blaze—his wife and his two daughters included. Their bodies were reportedly burned beyond recognition."

The room fell silent.

Ivy lowered her gaze to the photograph on her phone once more, an uneasy feeling settling deep in her chest. The more she looked at it, the more convinced she became that there was far more to the story than either of them understood.

"I have a picture of Frederick’s family," Xander said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ivy looked up at him immediately.

"Show me."

The urgency in her voice caught Xander off guard, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he got out of bed and gestured for her to follow him.

***

Inside his study, Xander walked to his desk and unlocked the bottom drawer. From it, he retrieved a thick file containing every piece of confidential information he had gathered over the years while investigating his parents’ deaths.

After flipping through a few pages, he pulled out an old family photograph and handed it to Ivy.

"Here."

Ivy took the picture without hesitation.

The moment her eyes landed on it, the color drained from her face.

It felt as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet.

The photograph showed Frederick standing beside his wife and two young daughters, all smiling at the camera.

But Ivy barely noticed the others.

Her eyes were fixed on one of the girls.

The resemblance was uncanny.

The child looked so much like her that, for a terrifying second, it was as though she were staring at a photograph of herself.

Ivy’s breath caught in her throat.

Her fingers tightened around the photograph as her gaze slowly shifted from the young girl to the woman standing beside her.

The moment she saw her face clearly, all the color drained from Ivy’s own.

A wave of realization crashed over her with such force that her knees nearly gave out. Her mind went blank, and her heart sank as memories she couldn’t fully explain flashed through her head.

The woman in the photograph...

She was the same woman who had appeared in her dreams over and over again.

Tears welled in Ivy’s eyes as the truth she had never dared imagine settled heavily in her chest.

"Mom..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Then her gaze drifted to the man standing protectively beside the woman.

She recognized him too.

The photograph Hardy had once given her—the face she had spent countless nights trying to place—belonged to the very same man.

Her father.

For several long seconds, Ivy stood frozen, staring at the smiling family in the picture as shock and disbelief warred within her. The answers she had been searching for all this time had been right in front of her, hidden inside a single photograph, and yet before she could find them, they were all gone.