Isabel wandered into Damien's study while he was out on a call, admiring the well-organized bookshelves and neatly stacked files. The warm scent of cedarwood and faint traces of his cologne lingered in the air, making the space feel undeniably his. As she trailed her fingers over the polished desk, something caught her eye—a small, framed picture partially hidden behind a stack of books.

Curious, she reached for it, her heart skipping a beat as she examined the photograph. Damien sat beside a young girl, their proximity suggesting a deep bond. Her dark eyes mirrored his, an uncanny resemblance that made Isabel pause. The photo was clearly old—Damien appeared much younger—but something about it unsettled her. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: was she his ex-girlfriend? But, Damien's mother mentioned that he never dated anyone. Yet, the way they looked at each other, the striking similarity in their features—it felt less like a romantic connection and more like something else. Something deeper. Something familial.

 She had never seen this picture before, nor had Damien ever mentioned a sister or any other close female relative.A strange feeling settled in her chest. Was she overthinking it? Or was there something Damien hadn't told her?

She hesitated before setting the picture back where she found it, deciding against asking him about it just yet. They were getting married soon. Shouldn't she trust him? Yet, the thought lingered in her mind even as she tried to brush it off.

Later that evening, while visiting Damien's family home for dinner, Isabel found herself in casual conversation with his mother, Victoria Sinclair. She was a graceful woman, her sharp eyes always brimming with warmth, but tonight, Isabel couldn't shake her curiosity.

Trying to sound casual, she asked, "Mom, I saw a picture of Damien with a girl today. I don't recall him mentioning her before. Is she a cousin?"

Victoria looked up from her tea with a small, knowing smile. "Oh, that must be Sara, his younger sister. She's studying abroad right now. Damien is very protective of her."

Isabel nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. Of course, it made sense. Why had she doubted him? But as she mulled over the information, something gnawed at the back of her mind. Sara looked familiar. Too familiar. As if she had seen her before, somewhere important. But no matter how hard she tried, the memory refused to surface.

Later that night, Isabel finally gathered the courage to ask Damien directly. As they sat in his car outside her home, she turned to him hesitantly. "Damien, why have you never mentioned Sara before? I saw her picture today."

Damien's body stiffened. His hands clenched around the steering wheel, and for a moment, an unreadable expression crossed his face. Then, without warning, his gaze turned sharp. "Why were you looking through my things, Isabel?" he asked coldly.

His sudden change in demeanor startled her. "I—I wasn't snooping. The picture was just there, and I got curious."

**Damien's POV**

Shit. What the hell am I doing?

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe. My pulse hammered against my skin, rage threatening to spill over, but I couldn't afford to lose control. Not now. Not when I was this close.

Isabel's wide eyes watched me, a flicker of unease in them. Had I already given too much away? Damn it. A single mistake, a single slip, and everything I've worked for—everything I've planned—could be ruined.

I forced my shoulders to relax, schooling my expression into something softer, something believable. Taking a step closer, I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head as if amused by my own outburst.

"I'm sorry, Isa. I didn't mean to snap. It's just... that picture brings back a lot of memories. My sister and I were really close before she left to study abroad."

The lie rolled off my tongue effortlessly, just as it always had.

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, as if searching for something—doubt, hesitation—but I met her eyes with practiced ease, offering a reassuring smile.

"You know I don't like people touching my things, but I guess I can make an exception for my soon-to-be wife," I added smoothly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

She smiled back, the tension in her shoulders easing.

Good. That was close. Too close.

I turned away, my jaw tightening. Isabel had no idea what she had just stumbled upon. And for her sake, I hoped she never would.

***AUTHOR'S POV***

Isabel nodded, convincing herself that she had made a mistake by doubting him. Yet, as she stepped out of the car and made her way inside, a lingering unease stayed with her.

She returned to her room and fell asleep, but deep in her subconscious, the image of Sara's face haunted her dreams. Little did she know, the truth was already closing in on her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.