Chapter 54
Amara curled herself into a ball on the bed, her body shaking. It was a strange, sickening pain. Part of her felt a twisted pity seeing the once-proud Seb Creed reduced to a man scavenging fruit off the floor, but the larger part of her felt a cold, sharp knot of hatred.
She began to sob, not a quiet cry, but a broken, gasping sound.
Seb froze. He dropped the fruit, his face contorting in panic.
“No, no, no! Please don’t cry, baby. Please… anything but that.” He reached out as if to touch her, then pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned.
“If you don’t want to see me, it’s fine. I’ll step out. Just… come out when you’re ready. But don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart p>
“Please stop this,” Amara choked out. “I want to go home p>
Seb stood at the doorway, his silhouette dark against the bright hallway. “We’ll go,” he whispered, his grip on the doorknob tightening.
“But not now. Not until you realize that I’m the only one who can truly love you p>
He stepped out and locked the door with a soft click.
While Amara was trapped in Seb’s fantasy, Julian was standing in the pouring rain at the Pedro mansion gates. He had finished his business early, his gut telling him something was wrong.
He looked down at the pavement. There, half-hidden under a bush near the gate, was an earring, a small, silver earring that he had given Amara, his first gift to her.
He picked it up, his heart sinking. How did this fall here, he thought.
He looked toward the mansion windows. He had just received a text from “Amara” saying she was asleep and didn’t want to be disturbed.
Julian stood in the shadows of the hallway, the silver earring biting into his palm. The muffled thumping of bass and the screech of laughter coming from Amara’s bedroom didn’t match the woman who had shared that quiet weekend with him.
He pulled out his phone, his face a mask of stone. “It’s me,” he whispered to his assistant. “I want you to look into something immediately. Find out if the Pedro family has another daughter. A twin, a secret sister, anything. I want her name, her history, and her current location by tonight p>
“Yes, sir,” the assistant replied.
Julian pushed the door to the master suite open just an inch. The room was a wreck. Expensive wine was spilled on the rug, and the air smelled of cigarettes and sweat. In the center of the chaos, Amara was tangled with a man he didn’t recognize, her head thrown back in a vulgar display of pleasure that the real
Amara would never exhibit.
Julian didn’t roar in anger. He didn’t burst in to save her honor. He stood there, watching with a clinical, icy detachment. He saw the way this woman moved, the lack of grace, the sheer desperation for attention.
“You aren’t her,” he breathed to himself.
He pulled out his phone and typed a message: I’ll be back tonight. See you, my love.
He watched through the crack of the door as the phone on the nightstand lit up.
Amira glanced at the screen, saw his name, and let out a mocking laugh.
She didn’t reply. Instead, she threw the phone aside and screamed louder, intentionally trying to drown out the world.
Julian turned and walked away, his footsteps silent on the marble floor. He didn’t need to confront her yet. If this was the sister, then where was the real Amara?
As he reached his car, his assistant called back.
“Sir, you were right. There is an elder sister, Amira Pedro. She has a history of substance abuse and was recently seen near the Creed mansion. And sir… there’s more. A car matching Seb Creed’s registration was seen leaving the Pedro estate the night you dropped the CEO off p>
Julian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. He finally saw the whole picture. One sister stole her life, while the ex-husband stole her body.
“You’ve all made a grave mistake,” Julian hissed, starting the engine. “I’m going to burn both of your worlds down to find her p>
The next morning, the villa was filled with the aroma of gourmet cooking. Seb had spent hours in the kitchen, meticulously preparing a meal as if they were celebrating an anniversary rather than a kidnapping.
Amara treated him with nothing but pure disdain. Every time he spoke, she looked at him as if he were a stain on the floor. When he tried to play her favorite classical music to “soften the mood,” she simply turned her back and walked to the window, staring out at the unreachable horizon.
But Seb didn’t snap. He didn’t yell. He just wore a patient, hauntingly calm smile.
He was convinced that if he showed enough “devotion,” she would eventually break and come back to him.
“Will you please eat something?” Seb begged softly, holding out a plate. “You’re getting pale, Amara. I can’t have you falling ill p>
“What do you care?” Amara spat, turning to face him. “You plan to keep me here forever? I’m telling you now, Seb, nothing you do will change the truth. I don’t love you. I don’t even recognize you p>
She stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. “Julian is waiting for me. He loves me for who I am, not for some debt. He is a better man than you could ever hope to be. He’s kind, he’s honest, and he’s actually sane p>
Any other man, the old Seb would have smashed the plate in a jealous rage. But this Seb just blinked, his smile never wavering, though a small muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Julian is a passing fancy,” Seb said smoothly, as if talking to a confused child. “He doesn’t know our history. He wasn’t there for the last ten years. He doesn’t deserve you as I do. I’m going to go make your favorite pasta now. The one with the white wine sauce you used to love p>
He turned and walked away, leaving Amara shivering in the middle of the room.
Back in the city, the “wild party” at the Pedro mansion was finally dying down. Amira lay sprawled on the sofa, her hair a mess, surrounded by empty bottles and strangers. She felt untouchable, wearing her sister’s name like a suit of armor.
She didn’t hear the front door open. She didn’t hear the security guards being silenced.
Suddenly, the heavy curtains were ripped open, letting in the harsh morning light. Amira groaned, covering her eyes. “Close them! I’m sleeping p>
“The party’s over, Amira p>
The voice wasn’t Seb’s. It was deeper, colder, and filled with a lethal promise.
Amira froze. She peeked through her fingers to see Jullian standing at the foot of the sofa. He wasn’t the “Golden Retriever” boyfriend she had mocked. He looked like a man who had just come from a war zone, and his eyes were fixed on her with terrifying clarity.
“Who… who are you talking to?” Amira stammered, trying to sit up and pull her robe together. “I’m Amara p>
Julian reached down, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her to her feet with one hand.
“Don’t lie to me again,” Julian hissed, his face inches from hers. “I know who you are. And more importantly, I know you know where Sebastian took your sister. You have exactly ten seconds to tell me, or I’ll make sure the police find all the ’substances’ I just found in your bedroom p>